The Royal Library

Review: "The Magicians" by Lev Grossman

noreply@blogger.com (Fred Phillips) — Tue, 31 Jan 2012 23:20:00 +0000

What fantasy fan hasn’t read their favorite book or series and wished they could use magic or visit the world where it takes place? That’s just what happens to the main character in Lev Grossman’s “The Magicians” ($16, Plume).

Quentin Coldwater is a bored overachiever in school, obsessed by a series of books by Christopher Plover about the magical land of Fillory, which bears a striking resemblance to C.S. Lewis’ Narnia. Quentin is preparing to take an alumni interview for an Ivy League college, but when he arrives, he finds the man who was supposed to interview him has died. A paramedic on the scene gives him a strange envelope that she says she found in the deceased man’s possession. Inside is a notebook that claims to contain a new volume of the Fillory series and a note which flies away. As Quentin chases it through a city park, he ends up on the lawn of Brakebills, a college for magic.

Quentin, of course, passes the entrance exam and enters Brakebills, where even greater adventures await.

I’ve read mixed reviews on this book, and most of the negatives seem to come from people who were expecting another Harry Potter. In fact, I’ve seen the phrase “Harry Potter for adults” thrown around all over the place about this book, and that’s kind of misleading. Yes, Quentin is a fairly normal kid who discovers that he is a wizard, though that was a convention of the genre well before Potter. And, yes, there is a magical school. Brakebills, however, serves more as a way to bring the characters together and introduce them in “The Magicians” than a main focus as Hogwarts does in the Potter series. The full five years of schooling at Brakebills is covered here in about half the book. Grossman, to his credit, seems to have understood that the Potter comparisons were going to fly, and he plays with the idea, making it the basis of a couple of chuckles throughout the story.

The students in “The Magicians” are also not the heroic, altruistic youths of J.K. Rowling’s books. They’re teenagers, and they act like teenagers. They drink, they smoke, they swear, and occasionally, they have sex, though never graphically. They’re often self-centered and self-absorbed and unduly miserable when there are fantastic marvels surrounding them. Again, just like teenagers.

The study of magic at Brakebills also offers few of the wonders that Hogwarts does. It’s a complicated, tedious subject, much like I imagine the study of magic at an exclusive college would be if it were real.

So, if you’re looking for “Harry Potter for adults,” look elsewhere. It’s not here.

What drew me into the book was the fact that I remember being Quentin – the smart kid in school who was bored and unsatisfied. Unlike the character in the book, I was more of an underachiever, but I always dreamed of something more out there, of delving into these magical worlds that I read about. It’s one of the reasons I became a writer, because that’s the closest I’m likely to get to it. But I can always dream of that mysterious paramedic that hands me an envelope that takes me to another world.

Quentin himself is not always the most likeable sort – another criticism I’ve often heard about the book – but I don’t think he’s a bad guy, either. He’s kind of lost and doesn’t know what to do with his life, even when the path is put right in front of him. It’s a different approach than the usual fantasy where the kid who didn’t know he was a wizard grabs his life by the reins and does great things. It’s probably a more realistic take on what would happen in the real world of today.

Grossman borrows from many sources and sprinkles some references throughout the book. Readers will see shades of Lewis, Tolkien, Ursula Le Guin and, yes, Rowling, among others, in both his style and inside jokes in the books. In some ways, the story reads like an homage to fantasy.

“The Magicians” is not the happy, upbeat sort of fantasy where everything turns out OK in the end. It’s a bit more complicated, and a bit more real. It won’t be to everyone’s taste, but if you get it, it’s a great read.

Review: "The Night Strangers" by Chris Bohjalian

noreply@blogger.com (Fred Phillips) — Tue, 24 Jan 2012 23:27:00 +0000

I’ve been on a quest for the last year or so for that spooky, creepy, disturbing horror novel that just doesn’t seem to be out there anymore. After finding Chris Bohjalian’s “The Night Strangers” ($25, Crown) on a few end-of-year best horror lists and seeing that my local library had an electronic copy, I decided I’d give it a shot.

Chip Linton is an airline pilot forced to try to land his plane on Lake Champlain, a la Sully Sullenburger (who is mentioned ad nauseum in the book), after a flock of geese strike his engines and take them out. He almost pulls it off, too, but the wake of a ferry turning to come back and help the plane throws things off balance, causing the plane to break apart and dooming 39 of the passengers on board.

Now, the Linton family has moved to the country to try to get away from the attention and help Chip get his life back on track. They find a house that has been empty for a while because of the history of the family that once lived there, but it seems perfect for them. There is one strange feature, though. In the basement is a door that seems to go nowhere. It’s sealed with exactly 39 heavy carriage bolts, and Chip becomes obsessed with it, eventually tearing it down, at which point ghosts of people killed on the flight start appearing to him, including a sad little girl and her father who insists that she needs a friend and one of Linton’s twin daughters would be perfect.

It’s the setup for a nice creepy haunted house/ghost story. That’s where things begin to go wrong. There’s also a coven of witches in town, and seemingly everyone that the Lintons encounter is part of it. All of the women are named after herbs and have huge greenhouses where they grow exotic and often dangerous plants. At least some of the witches are after the blood of the Linton twins to put into a potion that they’ve made before that requires the blood of a traumatized twin, and it just gets sillier from there.

After the setup, I was hoping for a nice, dark psychological thriller, but what we ended up with was just a mess of too many ideas trying to be crammed into one story. “The Night Strangers” reminds me of a cheap Hollywood horror film where the writers were trying to force storylines from three or four other popular movies into theirs regardless of whether it makes sense or not. The witches (“herbalists” for the purposes of the book) seem pretty inept as villains go, and throughout the book, I found myself wondering how stupid the Lintons were that they couldn’t see right through them.

It’s doubly frustrating because there are moments where Bohjalian shines. There are compelling scenes and passages throughout the book, and he even managed to overcome my hatred of second person narrative, which he uses in scenes from Chip’s perspective. Normally, I don’t finish or review books that I don’t really like, but there was enough good stuff here to keep me reading to the fairly unsatisfying end. Ultimately, I couldn’t suspend my disbelief for most of it, though.

From all I can see, the horror genre seems to be in sad shape these days, and if “The Night Strangers” is truly one of the best horror novels of 2011, perhaps it’s worse than I thought. There is promise here in the early going, but it’s a promise that’s not kept. While I didn’t hate the book, I certainly wouldn’t recommend it either.

Review: "I Shall Wear Midnight" by Terry Pratchett

noreply@blogger.com (Fred Phillips) — Sat, 21 Jan 2012 23:28:00 +0000

It was with some sadness that I read the blurb on the back of Terry Pratchett’s “I Shall Wear Midnight” ($16.99, HarperCollins) announcing that this was to be the last tale of Tiffany Aching and the Wee Free Men. Though the Discworld series was aimed more at the teen audience, I found the books quite entertaining. At least Tiffany and the Nac Mac Feegle go out on a strong note, though.

As the story opens, Tiffany is still struggling to make her way as a young witch on the Chalk, a place where having a witch is a fairly new idea. She’s constantly working at her witch duties, which include tending to the sick, childbirth and just generally helping people who need help. Despite the fact that everything she does aids someone and the people there have known her since she was born, she’s noticing a growing anti-witch sentiment. The old storybook tales of witches stealing children and doing all sorts of other nasty things are starting to swirl around again.

Things come to a head when Tiffany rescues a 13-year-old girl from an abusive father and takes her, temporarily, to the safety of the Feegles’ mound to recover from her injuries. Around the same time, the old Baron, who Tiffany has been caring for, dies and his son Roland, who Tiffany once rescued from magical imprisonment, becomes the new Baron. Accusations begin to fly, and Tiffany soon learns that when she danced with the Wintersmith, she woke something old and evil, bent on the destruction of all witches. Now, she’ll have to face the Cunning Man and defeat him to save her friends and herself.

“I Shall Wear Midnight” is certainly the darkest of the four books featuring Tiffany Aching. Being aimed at teens, all of the books have tackled some subject that concerns that crowd – jealousy and bullying are part of the focus here. But you have story elements like a drunk, abusive father that beats his teenage daughter almost to death, causing her to lose a child, who then attempts to kill himself when he realizes what he’s done. It’s not exactly what you think of when you think Terry Pratchett. But he handles it without any heavy-handedness and manages to keep the story light and inject his trademark humor into it in spite of some of the darker turns the story takes.

It is a pivotal point in the development of Tiffany, and perhaps that’s why Pratchett decided to end the tales here. At the end, she’s no longer the teenager searching for an identity and approval from the older witches. Instead, she has come into her own. Though still a teen in age, after the ordeal of “I Shall Wear Midnight,” she emerges a woman grown and the equal of her witchy peers. Just don’t tell Granny Weatherwax I said that.

While this might be the last tale to focus on Tiffany and the Feegle, I certainly wouldn’t be surprised to see them pop up again on the Discworld. I’d hate to think that we’d never get to see Rob Anybody or Daft Wullie again. The Discworld would be a much less interesting place without them, and there are still a few unresolved questions from the books out there, too.

As always with Pratchett, “I Shall Wear Midnight” is colorful, lively and entertaining, and it brings the Wee Free Men cycle to a solid, if a bit sad, close.

Review: "The Lost Gate" by Orson Scott Card

noreply@blogger.com (Fred Phillips) — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 23:11:00 +0000

Here’s one of those books that’s been in my to-read pile for far too long. So long, in fact, that the paperback version is already out.

Danny North is born into a family of magic-users living on a compound in Virginia in Orson Scott Card’s “The Lost Gate” ($7.99, Tor). These families, scattered across the world, once ruled the Earth as gods before they were cut off from their homeland and their source of power. Now, the magic is greatly diminished, only a shadow of what they used to wield, but the families guard it jealously.

Danny grows up believing himself to be the lowest of the low among his people – a drekka, one without magic. As a teenager, he can’t perform the simplest magical acts that young children are capable of, and though he is a quick-witted, fast learner with a gift for languages, he finds himself an outcast, just one whim of the elders away from finding himself in the family cemetery.

But when he plays a prank on a couple of the younger children who won’t obey him during lessons, he learns that he’s not a drekka at all. He has magic, but it might be worse than not having it. He is a gatemage, banned by all of the families since the last Loki closed all of the gates to their homeland, trapping them here. To keep peace between the jealous families, gatemages are executed as soon as they are discovered. An inspecition visit to the compound from a Greek family with a daughter who can sense gate magic sends Danny fleeing into the world of humans – or drowthers – in a desperate attempt to survive and learn how to control his magic.

Card provides an interesting view of the gods of the ancient world in the first volume of his Mither Mages series. Rather than all-powerful immortal beings who control the world, Card’s Zeus and Odin are simply powerful magic users from another world who use Earth as their playground until they’re trapped here. In fact, there have been many Zeuses and Odins and Thors over the years, as the names are more of a title passed on from one generation to the next.

“The Lost Gate” is as much a coming of age tale as a fantasy since quite a bit of it is spent following Danny as he tries to adjust to the real world after a very sheltered childhood, and as he wrestles with the moral dilemmas that his unique powers bring about. What’s to prevent a life of crime when he can create a gate into any building, grab what he wants and instantly gate himself miles away? Or, on the other hand, should he tinker with people’s lives even in small, positive ways, as he attempts to do later in the book when he enters school?

The magical system in the book also bears watching as it develops in future volumes. It has the potential to be a pretty complex entity with each mage having his or her own specialty and own level of power, which would ultimately decide rank in the society of the families. It’s not exactly a new idea – what is? – but it’s approached in a unique way.

As always, Card’s work is inventive and interesting, and he provides a flawed, but likeable character in Danny that the reader can understand and get behind. The story moves along at a fast pace, and it’s an enjoyable read. There’s also just a hint of foreshadowing at the end, not too heavy-handed, that provides some interesting options for the next book in the series.

Review: "Low Town" by Daniel Polansky

noreply@blogger.com (Fred Phillips) — Tue, 10 Jan 2012 23:08:00 +0000

It’s been a good couple of weeks for me and first novels. First, I enjoyed Mark Lawrence’s dark debut “Prince of Thorns,” so I decided to take a shot on another one and picked Daniel Polansky’s “Low Town” ($25.95, Doubleday) off the stack. It proved to be another good choice.

Low Town is a pretty ugly place. It’s a place where immigrants who struggle to gain acceptance, criminals and the lowest of the low in society collect. It’s a place filled with crime and drugs and pretty much devoid of hope. The Warden is a former soldier and ex-cop turned drug addict and dealer who now spends his days there, moving his product and trying to protect his turf, living in the inn that he co-owns with a close friend and military buddy.

When the first child goes missing, the Warden doesn’t want to get involved, but when he stumbles across her body in a back alley, he’s drawn into the investigation. It’s a path that leads him into conflict with some old friends and acquaintances that he’d probably prefer not to deal with again, and opens up some old wounds that were probably best left alone.

“Low Town” offers an interesting mix of genres. Sure, it’s a fantasy. There’s magic. It's a pre-industrial world. There’s a fantastic creature or two roaming around. But it doesn’t read like a fantasy. At its heart, it’s a gritty, grimy, noir detective story with the fantasy elements secondary. The focus is on the crime and solving the mystery, which just so happens to involve dark magic.

The Warden, while not a nice guy by any stretch of the imagination, is actually quite the sympathetic character. He has flaws, and he knows it. He struggles with them. While finding the body of the first murdered child puts him in the crosshairs of his former partners and bosses in the city’s secret police force, but it doesn’t complete force him into the investigation. He’s angered by the disappearance of the children, and though he struggles against it, he feels a need to take care of his own and try to take the killer down. You know, whether his hand was forced or not, eventually the Warden would give in to that thing in his nature and take the case.

Polansky populates Low Town with a colorful assortment of characters, one of the most interesting of which is crime lord Ling Chi, who the Warden has an uneasy relationship with. I hope we cross paths with him in future volumes, which I’m sure are coming. Polansky has only wiped a bit of the grime off the surface of Low Town and its potential, and I feel that there are many more tales to be told among the crumbling decay. I look forward to them.

Review: "Prince of Thorns" by Mark Lawrence

noreply@blogger.com (Fred Phillips) — Mon, 02 Jan 2012 21:21:00 +0000

At the age of nine, Prince Jorg of Ancrath watched, trapped in hook briars, as soldiers tore his mother and brother from their carriage and brutally murdered them. By the age of 13, Jorg is a hardened and heartless killer looking for a throne in “Prince of Thorns” ($25.95, Ace), the impressive debut novel from Mark Lawrence.

Jorg, found by his father’s men, is returned to the Tall Castle and nursed back to health, though he should have died from the infection of the hook briars. But the experience and the bargain his father cuts with the nobleman responsible for the murders leave him bitter and in search of vengeance. He flees the castle with a band of men freed from the dungeons, and four years later, finds himself the leader of a bloodthirsty group of bandits, stealing, killing and burning their way across the countryside as he follows his secret vow to be king by 15. When Jorg’s band once again comes near his father’s lands, he feels an irresistible pull home, but what’s waiting for him there is not exactly what he expects.

Lawrence’s debut novel is a fascinating study in the villain-as-hero concept. You can’t call Jorg an anti-hero, because usually the anti-hero has at least some redeeming qualities. Jorg has none. He’s cold, brutal and heartless and will destroy anyone and anything in his path without a pang of guilt or regret. Every time a thought that’s sympathetic or almost human enters his mind, he crushes it immediately. Lawrence even offers him an excuse for his villainy late in the story, but Jorg refuses to take it, confirming the character’s dark nature.

I’ll admit that I love a good villain and often feel some sympathy for them, but even I was surprised by how compelling I found Jorg’s character and Lawrence’s tale given the utter lack of humanity or compassion. For some reason, though, I simply couldn’t put the book down.

Lawrence’s world also holds a secret that the reader will soon discover through clues that begin with the map at the beginning of the book. Though I don’t really think it’s a surprise, I won’t spoil it here. The angle is not, I believe, as fully developed as it could be, but offers a different dimension and plenty of possibilities for future volumes.

“Prince of Thorns” certainly won’t be to everyone’s liking, but reading the first chapter should be enough to clue you in. It is, at times, quite ugly and disturbing, and there’s definitely no hero to cheer on as you read. The book is a fast-paced, page turner, though, and for those of us who are fans of the villain, it offers a chance to get into the head of one of the most blackhearted you’re likely to come across.

Review: "Aloha from Hell" by Richard Kadrey

noreply@blogger.com (Fred Phillips) — Sat, 31 Dec 2011 03:23:00 +0000

Life’s settling into something comfortable for James Stark, aka Sandman Slim, after he narrowly saved the world from destruction by a zombie hoard in Richard Kadrey’s last tale, “Kill the Dead.” As “Aloha From Hell” ($23.99, Harper Voyager) begins, Stark is waiting for his video store to be rebuilt, exploring his relationship with his new girlfriend Candy, and taking the odd job here and there – like stealing magical artifacts.

Life is pretty good, as Stark’s goes, and he’s almost abandoned his mission to destroy his one-time friend Mason, who once banished him to Hell, where he was trained in the fighting pits and served as an assassin for demon generals. Lucifer has returned to Heaven to take his place among the angels again. Stark was offered the job, but he refused. Now, Mason is trying to put himself on the throne in Hell, and an exorcism gone wrong puts Stark’s focus squarely on his old enemy.

A rogue angel who seeks to take the throne of Heaven for her own has smuggled the soul of Stark’s murdered girlfriend Alice through the pearly gates and delivered it to Mason Downtown. Now, Stark has to march back into Hell to confront Mason and get Alice back to her rightful place. In the process, he may get more than he bargained for.

Though still far from a nice guy, Kadrey’s half-angel, half-human antihero has grown much more likeable as he’s regained a bit of his humanity over the course of the three books in the series. These days, Stark is much more apt to do something for the right reason than the monster we originally met in “Sandman Slim,” though you’d be hard-pressed to get him to admit that.

As you’d expect of a book that ends in a battle in the netherworld, “Aloha from Hell” is mean, gritty and nasty. But while the scenery, events and characters that pop up in the story are fascinating, Stark’s inner turmoil and the battle to rediscover his humanity is still the key to the story’s success. Sure, there’s that side of me that loves the idea of a romp through an apocalyptic vision of Hell alongside a guy that claims to be Jack the Ripper, but that only gets you so far.

In the wrong hands, Stark’s character and the story surrounding him could be a disaster, but Kadrey continues to impress and develop the character and story. It’s another winner in the tale of Sandman Slim, and it sets up more interesting times for our friend Stark in the future.

Freebies: Get a sneak peek at George R.R. Martin's next book

noreply@blogger.com (Fred Phillips) — Sat, 31 Dec 2011 02:50:00 +0000

George R.R. Martin is offering fans a Christmas gift with an excerpt from "Winds of Winter," the next installment in his Song of Ice and Fire series. If you're not caught up with the series, you should know that the excerpt features spoilers. If you are, click here to check it out.

Review: "Snuff" by Terry Pratchett

noreply@blogger.com (Fred Phillips) — Wed, 28 Dec 2011 23:47:00 +0000

Commander Samuel Vimes of the Ankh-Morpork City Watch is on holiday in “Snuff” ($25.99, Harper), Terry Pratchett’s latest novel of the Discworld. It’s not that he wanted to go on holiday. As far as he’s concerned a copper is never on holiday. But his wife, Lady Sybil, has coerced him into visiting her estates in the country. Of course, being Sam Vimes, it’s not long before he finds some trouble.

It starts with an altercation with a local blacksmith who has a problem with the upper class – an uncomfortable position Vimes finds himself in thanks to his marriage to Sybil. When a late night meeting is arranged between Vimes and the blacksmith, the commander and his butler – a slightly reformed street tough named Willikins – arrive at the meeting spot to find no blacksmith and a lot of blood. But Vimes’ would-be framer was a little too messy, leaving behind evidence that the blood belongs not to the blacksmith but to a goblin.

Normally, that wouldn’t be a problem, since goblins are considered vermin by most people and have no rights. But Vimes’ investigation into the matter reveals some facts that, with a little help, may drastically change the way society thinks about the creatures.

“Snuff” covers a topic that Pratchett has approached many times through the course of the Discworld novels. You have a race of creatures that are feared and reviled being melded and accepted into society. He’s done it with the likes of trolls, vampires, zombies and other “monsters.” Despite that, the story here remains fresh and engaging. It kind of picks up on Pratchett’s last book, the uneven “Unseen Academicals,” which featured prominently a goblin character attempting to find worth in Ankh-Morpork. On the whole, “Snuff” is a more entertaining take on the goblin plight.

A little bit of the police procedural creeps in around the edges of “Snuff,” and it does ask some serious questions, including one that’s been asked numerous times throughout the course of history – what do you do when a crime against a people has been committed, but there’s no clear law regarding that crime? Even so, it retains the humor that Pratchett is known for, with both slapstick-ish scenes and the more subtle stuff.

Though, as fans, we have to acknowledge with some sadness that we’re likely reaching the end of our wild Discworld ride, here’s hoping that Pterry can leave us with a few more good ones like this.

Review: "The Wise Man's Fear," by Patrick Rothfuss

noreply@blogger.com (Fred Phillips) — Sun, 09 Oct 2011 03:08:00 +0000

Patrick Rothfuss’ debut novel, “The Name of the Wind,” was one of the better fantasy discoveries I’ve made in recent years. Four years later, he finally delivers the sequel, “The Wise Man’s Fear” ($29.95, DAW). Like many sequels, it’s somewhat lacking.

The book continues the tale of the hero (or villain, depending on your point of view, I guess) Kvothe. Now retired from the hero life and running a tavern in a small village, Kvothe’s secret has been found out by a scribe called only the Chronicler. He has convinced the former hero to share his story and this book represents the second part of it.

A whole lot of things happen in this book. Kvothe leaves the University for a time, finds a patron (in a manner of speaking), spends some time in faerie and trains with a fierce warrior race. While all of these things develop the character of Kvothe in their own way, very few of them develop the story. Where “The Name of the Wind” felt very calculated and well-planned, in “The Wise Man’s Fear,” Rothfuss seems to be flying by the seat of his pants a little. As a result, we get some interesting tales about our hero, but the story that was begun by the current version of Kvothe fighting off some strange creatures before he sat down to tell his tale, moves forward barely, if at all.

Compounding the problem is that we don’t get to see some of the more interesting misadventures that befall Kvothe. For example, a pirate attack that sinks the ship he’s on and almost kills him is related offhandedly with no detail after the fact, while we get a full accounting of several rather mundane occurences.

There are a few interesting developments in the present part of the story toward the end of the book that leave some interesting questions, but with four years between the first and second book, when will we get the answers?

“The Wise Man’s Fear” is not a flop by any means. Rothfuss remains a talented writer, and the characters are interesting and engaging. Not once during the course of the book was I bored or disinterested, but at the end, I also didn’t feel very satisfied. The dressing was nice, but I’m left, like the lady in the old Wendy’s commercial, asking “where’s the beef?”

Review: "Ghost Story" by Jim Butcher

noreply@blogger.com (Fred Phillips) — Sun, 04 Sep 2011 23:11:00 +0000

SPOILER WARNING: If you have not read the previous volumes in Jim Butcher’s Dresden Files, particularly the last book, “Changes,” don’t go any further if you don’t want to ruin the experience. There is a major surprise plot point at the end of “Changes” that I cannot write this review without revealing.

So, those of you left with me, I’ll assume know what happened at the end of “Changes.” We’ve spent a year now, wondering how the tale of Harry Dresden could possibly continue, and now we have our answer in the latest volume “Ghost Story” ($27.95, Roc.)

Harry ends up in a sort of limbo, a ghostly Chicago, where he meets up with the shade of Karrin Murphy’s father and is presented with a decision. He can go on to whatever comes next, or he can go back to the real Chicago as a ghost to try to solve the mystery of his murder and in doing so, possibly save the lives of several of his friends. For Harry, that’s no decision, so he ends up back home, but unable to use his magic, communicate or physically affect anything. It’s quite a challenge for a guy who tends to prefer action to deep thought.

With the help of ectomancer Mortimer Lindquist, who can communicate with spirits, Harry discovers that his death and final actions have left a mess in their wake. His friends – and at least one enemy – have banded together with their backs against the wall as, in his absence, supernatural advances on Chicago have become regular occurrences. His apprentice has been badly damaged by what she’s seen and his absence, and might possibly be mad. And an old nemesis, the Corpsetaker, is back in town and up to something fishy involving the local ghosts and spirits.

Few, if any, of the situations presented in this book are resolved by its end. Rather, this is a book that takes Harry through a major transformation. As a ghost, and seeing the havoc his actions have created, Dresden is forced to take a hard look at himself and give more thought to what he does and why.
The downside of that is that much of “Ghost Story” is slow and introspective. Readers of the Dresden Files are used to a pretty badass wizard full of witty banter and pop culture references. Those are still there, but a very distinct shift in Harry’s character happens here. The action of the book, at least until the final act, is not as breakneck and lively as in previous books. We do meet a few new interesting characters, like the ghost of Colonial Marine Sir Stuart and the leader of a local band of misfits with slight magical abilities, that we’re sure to see play a role in future tales. The finale, though, gets us back into more familiar territory and prepares to relaunch the series.

Fans of Butcher may have mixed feelings about this book. I do. I had a little trouble adjusting to the idea of Harry as a ghost in the early going, and, in parts, I kind of wondered where Butcher was going. Having stepped back and looked at the book as a whole, though, I think it was a necessary move on his part, even if “Ghost Story” isn’t as good as some of his previous books and didn’t quite live up to the high expectations I had of it. It puts some new wrinkles into the series that could keep it fresh. The Dresden Files has far exceeded the shelf-life of most series already, and has continued to get steadily better, so I’m all for something that might keep it headed in that direction – even if it provides a little lull in the story.

Review: "A Dance with Dragons" by George R.R. Martin

noreply@blogger.com (Fred Phillips) — Fri, 05 Aug 2011 01:34:00 +0000

It’s been a long wait for George R.R. Martin’s “A Dance with Dragons” ($35, Bantam), and most fans may not find it entirely satisfying. This, certainly, is not the best or most exciting of Martin’s books, but it was a necessary volume to get the series back on track.

“A Dance with Dragons” runs in parallel time to the last volume, 2006’s “A Feast for Crows.” It focuses, primarily, on three of the myriad characters of the series, the dwarf kinslayer Tyrion Lannister, the exiled princes Daenerys Targaryen and the bastard son of the beheaded Lord Eddard Stark and captain of the Night’s Watch Jon Snow. When I discovered that, I was excited. For me, these three are the most interesting characters in the book. I’ve always found Tyrion, in particular, to be a fascinating character. In a worrying move, Martin also opens a few new subplots, giving me bad Robert Jordan flashbacks, but for the nonce, I’ll keep my faith in him.

Unfortunately, this book does move quite slowly. While I’ve seen reviews that say not much happens, actually quite a bit happens. I’m just not sure how much of it is important. The stalling of Daenerys’ storyline, for example, as she tries to exert her control over the city of Mereen doesn’t seem to be moving her any closer to returning to Westeros to reclaim the throne that was taken from her family. Tyrion bounces around here, there and yonder, and while he eventually gets to the place that he needs to be, it seems to me that there’s not a lot of direction in his storyline. The only subplot in the book that seems to be leading directly to a climax to the story is Jon Snow, who is attempting to protect the world from darkness while the rest of the characters squabble over who should be king and ignore the bigger threat.

I’ve always liked Martin’s head-hopping style of storytelling, doling the tale out in snippets through the eyes of a group of key characters. That, however, turns into a weakness here, simply because of the amount of time between volumes. A lot of books have passed through my head in the five years between “A Feast for Crows” and “A Dance with Dragons,” and I found myself struggling to recall some key plot points. Occasionally Martin will help us out with it a little, but more often we’re expected to remember events of several books ago. That might work when we’re getting one per year or every other year, but when it’s been five years since you read the last one, and more than 15 since the first, things are forgotten.

I think it’s clear from the five-year wait for this volume that Martin lost the thread of the story, and he seems to be meandering across his world here on a quest to find it. In the end, I hope that this book serves to get him back on track. By the end of “A Dance with Dragons,” the split timeline has seemingly merged, and events begin to look as though they’re finally converging again and moving toward a resolution. Those new subplots are concerning, but he’s left the reader with a few very interesting developments to ponder as we wait (hopefully not as long) on the next volume. One of them, in fact, is a bombshell that makes the atmosphere ripe for some chaos.

This one, unlike the early books in the series, proved a slow and difficult read for me, just as it was a slow and difficult process for Martin to write it. I know some fans will be disappointed. That’s inevitable after such a long wait, and I admit to feeling a little letdown myself. When all is said and done, though, I walked away from “A Dance with Dragons” with an optimistic outlook for the series. I could be wrong (it’s been known to happen), but the feeling I got at the end of the book was that the struggle is over and now we can move on. I wish I could take a peek into Lady Melisandre’s flames and see that my hopes for the series are correct.

Random Rants: Drained and left for dead

noreply@blogger.com (Fred Phillips) — Tue, 28 Jun 2011 00:49:00 +0000

In my review of Charlaine Harris’ latest novel, “Dead Reckoning,” I said that, despite the liberties taken by the series, I had enjoyed “True Blood” recently more than the last few books. When I wrote that, I had only watched the first two seasons. After catching up on season three and watching the first episode of season four, I’d like to retract that statement.

WARNING: If you haven’t read all of the novels or watched the series, and you plan to, you will want to stop reading here. There are spoilers below.

I understand that Hollywood has to make changes, and I understand the reasons for some of those changes. So, I went into “True Blood” trying really hard to view the show and the books as two different entities. I managed to do that for the first two seasons despite a lot of divergence from the story. Among those:

They made Tara black and made her a bigger part of the story. I understand that, but I think they undermined their reasons for the change by making her so screechy, abrasive and annoying.
They didn’t kill Lafayette. I actually like that decision. The Lafayette of the show is a great character, and I’m glad he’s still around.
They created Jessica, a sheltered and immature vampire that Bill was forced to make. OK. I kind of liked that angle, too.
They made Godric Eric’s maker, rather than Appius, who we meet much, muc later in the story. I still don’t like that, but I got past it.
They took the maenad who was barely in the books and turned her into a major story line for the first two seasons. Fine. You can create your own alternate story lines all you want, as long as the primary story of the books gets where it needs to go.

But along comes the third season, and things go completely awry. Through the course of the third season and the first episode of the fourth, it has become clear that Alan Ball has absolutely no respect whatsoever for the source material that he’s working from – or, in most cases, not working from.

What bothers me most about what Ball has done is the fact that he has completely destroyed some of the characters. Calvin Norris is the most blatant example. No, Calvin was not the most likeable person in the world, but there was a certain honor about him in the books. In the series, he’s a complete piece of trash with no redeeming qualities whatsoever. Ball assassinates his character, then, literally, assassinates him.

Then, there’s Sophie Anne Leclerq, the vampire queen of Louisiana. Sure, she’s flighty and a bit eccentric, but she’s not a twit as “True Blood” portrayed her. And Sam Merlotte – who knows where the real Sam is in all of this, but he’s definitely not on screen.

I don’t have the time and you don’t have the patience for me to get started on the ways that he’s screwed up Bill and Eric. At this point in the books, Bill’s more of an afterthought than anything else, while in Sunday night’s episode he’s ordering Eric around, and we learn that he is now a king. Bill Compton? A vampire king? You’ve got to be kidding, right? He’s nowhere near ruthless enough to hang on to that position for more than a minute. Instead of waning as he should be, Bill’s role seems to be expanding, and Eric’s character, already much maligned in the series, will likely suffer for it.

More than anything, though, Ball has taken away one of my favorite elements of the books, and that’s the sense of fun. Those early books didn’t take themselves too seriously, and no matter how hairy things got in the story line, they were still a blast. There are flashes of that fun here and there, mostly through the comic relief of Lafayette, but occasionally elsewhere. The genially insane portrayal of Russell Edgington by Denis O’Hare helped matters (though the trumped up werewolf army bent on taking over the world angle was annoying), and the sadly underutilized Pam gets a moment here or there. But then it gets bogged down in attempts at heavy-handed family drama or soap-opera style schlock.

I’ll be the first to admit that Harris’ books aren’t high art. They are what they are – quick, fun reads that, perhaps, connect a little more with me because they’re set in my own back yard. They’re not Shakespeare, or even Stoker, but they’re not trying to be. And the characters and stories she’s created deserve a little respect. I laughed in the early going at the credits that said “Created by Alan Ball,” since these characters had a long history before he ever got involved. At this point, I’m not laughing. In fact, I’m wondering why Ball didn’t just create his own vampire series, as he obviously wanted to do, instead of spoiling one that already existed.

The most recent episode of “True Blood” was, most likely, the last one that I’ll watch. As the series has gone on, I’ve gotten more and more annoyed with the drastic changes that Ball has made, and with this episode, I was far more annoyed than entertained. In fact, I was barely entertained (Eric’s promo for the AVL was pretty good), and I was aggravated for most of the hour. Following my philosophy of avoiding things that tick me off unnecessarily, that means it’s time to move on.

Review: "Dead Reckoning" by Charlaine Harris

noreply@blogger.com (Fred Phillips) — Wed, 01 Jun 2011 22:41:00 +0000

While I once looked forward to a new installment in Charlaine Harris’ Sookie Stackhouse series, I’ve once again been left a little disappointed by her latest, “Dead Reckoning” ($27.95, Ace).

For me, the book has the same problem that the last volume did. A lot happens, but it really doesn’t seem like it.

The story centers on infighting in the vampire community. Eric, the sheriff of Area 5 in Louisiana and Sookie’s boyfriend, continues to have problems with the new regent of Louisiana, Victor Madden. The new boss is trying, in a number of underhanded ways, to provoke Eric into moving against him so that he can eliminate the threat with just cause in the eyes of Felipe, the vampire king of Nevada who recently took over the Louisiana kingdom. More family secrets about Sookie and her fairy relatives come to light. Sandra Pelt, the psychotic sister of Debbie Pelt, who Sookie killed in self defense earlier in the series, is out of prison and out to get the telepathic waitress. And there’s still some instability and social distrust caused by the revelation of the two-natured – weres and shifters – but it’s played down from previous volumes.

The book tackles a lot in a short volume, and it feels rushed. Nothing is allowed to build and develop, but instead each storyline seems to be charging toward its conclusion with little drama or tension. There are three key events to the overall storyline of the books that happen abruptly in the final couple of chapters in a very neat wrap up, and though Sookie should be in quite a bit of peril, at least in two of the situations, the reader never really feels like she’s in danger. Mr. Cataliades, the demon lawyer, reveals to Sookie quite a few juicy morsels from her family’s past, but they’re delivered matter-of-factly and without any real emotional input. And the Sandra Pelt storyline is like a complete afterthought. It’s introduced early in the book, supported by a couple of incidents and mentioned a few more times so you don’t forget it, then it’s dealt with in an exceptionally anticlimactic fashion. It’s almost like Harris knows she has to wrap it up and does it as efficiently as she can.

By the end of the book, Sookie is shell-shocked and emotionally drained by all that’s happened in her life, and the reader feels pretty much the same way. It almost seems more like a Cliffs Notes version of a much larger novel than the entire novel itself.

As frustrated as I get with the HBO series “True Blood” and its major deviations from Harris’ stories, I have to admit that I’ve enjoyed the show more than the past couple of books. I still have an emotional investment in the characters there, even if some of them don’t quite seem to be the characters that I fell in love with in Harris’ early novels. I can’t say the same for “Dead Reckoning.”

On a positive note, I was pleased by the return of Bubba, and his inclusion as a major plot point in this book. Though I realize there would probably be some legal issues involved with bringing him into the series, I’d certainly like to see him as a character in the HBO show.

I don't want it to sound like I didn't enjoy "Dead Reckoning," though I know it does. Like the previous installments in the series, it's still a fun, quick read. It’s just, unfortunately, not as engaging or satisfying as I’ve come to expect from Harris.

Review: "Towers of Midnight" by Brandon Sanderson and Robert Jordan

noreply@blogger.com (Fred Phillips) — Fri, 27 May 2011 01:08:00 +0000

The world conceived by Robert Jordan marches inexorably toward its Final Battle in Brandon Sanderson’s “Towers of Midnight” ($29.99, Tor), the penultimate (so we hope) installment of The Wheel of Time.

Since Sanderson took over to complete the tale, based on Jordan’s notes dictated before his death, the story, which had stalled in some of its middle chapters, has moved steadily forward. In “Towers of Midnight,” we see the Dragon Reborn, Rand al’Thor, continue to unite the world behind him for his battle with the ultimate evil. All of the pieces for that fight are now in place. The White Tower of the Aes Sedai has been made whole under the rule of Rand’s childhood friend Egwene al’Vere. Perrin Aybara and Matrim Cauthon have both amassed their armies to bring together under Rand’s banner. Elayne, carrying Rand’s twin children, has taken control of Andor and has her sights set on Caemlyn. And they all begin to converge for the finale in this book.

I can’t say whether it’s because I was so pleased to see the story move ahead in the previous volume, “The Gathering Storm,” that I overlooked the flaws or if it was really a stronger book than this one. “Towers of Midnight,” though, seems a bit uneven to me. While I rushed through “The Gathering Storm,” I took this one a bit more slowly. There were, certainly, moments that were compelling and kept me reading into the wee hours. One of the most interesting aspects of the book, Mat and Thom's effort to rescue Moiraine, believed dead for quite some time now, gets a bit shortchanged, while there are stretches where the story moves slowly, and it seems like the characters just want to hear themselves talk. The good moments far outweigh the weak ones, though.

The most interesting thing for me, as a reader who has been with this series since it’s beginnings nearly 20 years ago (minus a few of the middle books, which I skipped, but more on that later), is to see how most of the threads that were laid down in the earlier books are finally being woven together. There are a few “a-ha” moments here and there throughout “Towers of Midnight” where things that happened earlier in the story begin to take on a greater meaning. That’s as it should be with a series of this length and magnitude, but it’s still nice to see.

There are a few things in the book that made me nervous, as Sanderson introduced a couple of new characters and subplots. I once gave up the series because of Jordan’s propensity to add more and more storylines, making things so convoluted that the story never moved forward and he couldn’t even touch on every subplot in a 1,000-plus page book. I skipped his last few volumes, and quite frankly, picking up with “The Gathering Storm,” don’t feel like I missed much. But Sanderson has promised to finish this in three volumes, and for now, I’ll trust him on that.

He has things lining up neatly for Rand to meet the Dark One at Tarmon Gai’don, but there are also still a few wrinkles in the pattern. The Seanchan are still out there, hell-bent on leashing every woman who can channel, and there’s discord and something a little sinister going on with the male channelers, the Asha’man, at the Black Tower. Either of those could disrupt or derail Rand’s plans to seal the Dark One back in his prison and bring peace to the world.

“Towers of Midnight” ultimately does what a second book in a trilogy should do – and, I think, you have to view Sanderson’s three final books in the series as a trilogy to themselves. It moves the action forward and puts the pieces in place for the finale. Here’s hoping it’s a grand one.

Review: "Furies of Calderon," by Jim Butcher

noreply@blogger.com (Fred Phillips) — Tue, 19 Apr 2011 22:47:00 +0000

I remember when I received Jim Butcher’s “Furies of Calderon” (Ace, $9.99) several years ago, and I was both excited and a little reluctant to read it. I was, and remain, a huge fan of Butcher’s Dresden Files, which follow the misadventures of Chicago’s only wizard-for-hire Harry Dresden. I was interested in his take on what he called “swords and horses fantasy,” but at the same time, I was mainly interested in reading more about Harry. I got started on the book, but for whatever reason, I just couldn’t get into it, so I put it down after a couple of chapters and moved on.

A few weeks ago, I was looking around for my next read and decided that, while I’m waiting on the newest Dresden book in July, I’d give this series another chance. I’m glad I did.

The story begins with Amara, a Cursor for the High Lord of Alera who has been betrayed by her teacher to rebel forces seeking to usurp the throne. Her flight leads her to the Calderon Valley, a quiet, but rough part of the kingdom, where individual steadholters live a hard life by the sweat of their brow, strength of their spirit and aid of their furies – the elemental beings that they have a bond with. For the most part, the valley is a peaceful place, but a threat lurks hidden, waiting to strike, and the valley is about to be thrust into political machinations.

While in the valley, Amara meets Tavi, the nephew of a prominent steadholter named Bernard, who hasn’t come into his Fury yet. Because of his condition, he is considered weak and stunted by most others in the valley, but he may turn out to be the most important person in the coming conflict.

It’s been seven years since I first tried to read “Furies of Calderon,” and I’m quite sure my head’s in a slightly different place now. I don’t remember what it was that turned me off of the book the first time – maybe just that it wasn’t about Harry Dresden – but this time around, I found myself sucked in by the story. The action is relentless. There’s plenty of scheming, strife and betrayal, and Butcher is able to twist your emotions with his characters.

To me, one of the marks of a good book is that when the characters are in danger, you genuinely care. You want to reach out to them, help them avoid the pitfalls that you see coming, help them get out of a seemingly hopeless predicament. Butcher delivers on that in this book. Though in a different way, “Furies of Calderon” is every bit as strong as the Dresden Files, and I’m glad that I decided to revisit it.

A review copy of this book was provided by the publisher -- about seven years ago, but it was provided. :)

Review: "The Journey" by Kathryn Lasky

noreply@blogger.com (Fred Phillips) — Thu, 14 Apr 2011 01:24:00 +0000

After enjoying the first book in the Guardians of Ga’Hoole series, my son and I eagerly tackled Kathryn Lasky’s second book of the series, “The Journey” ($5.99, Scholastic). Unfortunately, we came away with mixed feelings on this one.

The book picks up with Soren and his band of friends – Gylfie, Twilight and Digger – still trying to find their way to the legendary Great Ga’Hoole Tree. While they’re on their journey, running into various types of owls and even getting into a fracas with a bobcat, the story remains fast-paced and entertaining. Once they find the home of the Guardians, however, things take a bit of a turn as the four try to find their place in the tree’s society.

That’s the biggest problem with the second half of this book. It gets very lost in explaining the owls' society, and delves a bit too much into minutiae of their duties and everyday lives. For example, when a group of owls are learning to recover embers from a forest fire, it’s a thrilling scene, rife with danger and suspense. At the same time, though, Lasky seems to want to give us a physics lessons on the techniques that the owls use to catch the embers. Maybe it’s a good idea from an educational standpoint, but from a reader’s standpoint, my son got really bored with it, as did I.

Overall, the second half of “The Journey” really loses the thread of adventure that “The Capture,” and even the first part of this book had. Some of that is to be expected, once they reach the relative safety of the Ga’Hoole tree, but the threat of St. Aggie’s is largely forgotten in this book, and while the band learns of perhaps an even worse threat, Lasky doesn’t manage to build it into anything quite as sinister and foreboding as she might have. A new mystery and a quick run of events at the end of the book seem to offer the promise of better things to come, but ultimately, the at times lethargic pace of “The Journey” and the lack of that same spirit of adventure caused my son and I to put the reading of the third book, “The Rescue,” on hold for now.

I still have hopes that Lasky’s series will deliver more satisfaction in the futre, but “The Journey” was a bit of a disappointment.

Review: "Banewreaker" by Jacqueline Carey

noreply@blogger.com (Fred Phillips) — Mon, 04 Apr 2011 23:08:00 +0000

You might not recognize the characters and places in Jacqueline Carey’s “Banewreaker” ($7.99, Tor), but the story will be very familiar.

In essence, the book is a play on J.R.R. Tolkien’s “The Lord of the Rings,” with a twist. It’s told from the point of view of Satoris the Third Born, or Satoris the Sunderer to his enemies He is basically Carey’s version of Sauron. The world of Urulat has been divided by a war between the Shapers, the gods who formed the world and its inhabitants. The dispute stemmed from a disagreement between Satoris and Haomane, the First Born. Satoris, bearing a never-healing wound from the fight, has been exiled to Darkhaven, where he lives with his Fjelltroll and three immortal champions pulled from the world of men and Ellyl (elves). Now a star of omen has risen, signaling the fact that Haomane’s forces are on the move against Satoris.

You won’t find a direct link to Tolkien anywhere in “Banewreaker,” and the story does not follow strictly along with the classic. The archetypes, however, are certainly there. You have the human champion of a dwindling line and his Ellyl bride-to-be, the powerful wizard leading a quest to destroy the “evil” Satoris, an innocent character who is the best hope for defeating Satoris, and the list goes on. The parallels are plain. It’s obvious what Carey has attempted to do with this book, and, perhaps surprisingly, it works.

As with much of the epic fantasy genre, in Tolkien’s work there is no sympathy to be found for the villain. He is the ultimate embodiment of evil. In the real world, we know that things are rarely that black and white, and a little of that uncertainty is what Carey brings to epic fantasy. Satoris is certainly not without blame, and he has done some less than savory things, but equally as guilty in their feud is his prideful brother Haomane.

Retelling familiar tales from the viewpoint of the villain isn’t a new idea, but Carey’s tale succeeds where many fail in actually making the villain a sympathetic character. I just finished reading one of the more famous takes on the idea, Gregory Maguire’s “Wicked,” a few months ago, and at the end, I wasn’t sorry when the witch got doused with water and melted away. Though I don’t yet know how this story turns out (it concludes in a second volume, “Godslayer”), I hope that Haomane and the forces of “good” don’t come away with quite as clean a victory as in Tolkien’s tale.

“Banewreaker” may make readers reconsider some of the things that most fantasy fans take for granted. It may make you view even the most dastardly of villains in a different light and wonder if the white wizard is really quite so pure or the villain quite so black-hearted. Perhaps, just perhaps, there’s a good reason those bad guys turned out the way they did.

Review: "Shadow's Edge" by Brent Weeks

noreply@blogger.com (Fred Phillips) — Tue, 08 Mar 2011 00:15:00 +0000

I was introduced to Brent Weeks at the airport. I had brought a book on the trip with me that turned out to be a dud, and I was looking for something to read. His first book of the Night Angel Trilogy, “The Way of Shadows,” was the only one in the airport book store that was able to catch my eye, and I was immediately drawn in to his tale of an orphan turned master assassin.

It’s taken me a little more than a year to make it to the second book in the series, “Shadow’s Edge” ($7.99, Orbit), but I fell back into the story with ease.

The Khalidoran Godking Garoth Ursuul has taken brutal control of Cenaria, grinding the city under his bootheels and turning the warrens where the poor people of the city live into even more of a living hell. Kylar Stern, having found love with Elene, the orphan that he once called Doll Girl, and being charged with taking care of his former master’s child Uly, has decided to retire from the assassin’s life. He has bribed his way out of Cenaria, traveling to stay with Elene’s family while he sets up shop as an herbalist. He quickly finds, though, that the life of violence he’s known is harder than he expected to leave behind.

It gets even more difficult when another former childhood friend, Jarl, now the leader of the Cenarian underworld organization known as the Sa’Kage, shows up with news that Logan Gyre, Kylar’s friend and the rightful ruler of Cenaria, is still alive, unbeknownst to the Godking, and surving in the worst prison that Cenaria has to offer. The events that follow may destroy his relationship with Elene and the idyllic existence that Kylar has hoped for.

I found the second volume of Weeks’ trilogy just as enthralling as the first. As with the first volume, the biggest strength in “Shadow’s Edge” is characterization. Often, in these books, you’re dealing with characters of rather nefarious backgrounds – thieves, prostitutes, and yes, cold-blooded killers – but Weeks still manages to make you feel deeply for them. So much so, in fact, that I found some scenes from this book quite difficult to read. To me, that’s the mark of a great story – when I’m drawn so much into the characters’ lives that the things that happen to them have an emotional impact on me. That’s certainly the case with Weeks.

Like its predecessor, “Shadow’s Edge” is dark and gritty, and it pulls no punches. It’s not a tale for the squeamish, but neither is it gratuitous. It uses what it needs to make an impact.

I can guarantee that it won’t take a year for me to get to the third book in the series.

This book was purchased by the reviewer.

Review: "The Capture" by Kathryn Lasky

noreply@blogger.com (Fred Phillips) — Wed, 23 Feb 2011 00:32:00 +0000

My son and I have discovered a few bedtime reads lately via movie adaptations. The latest is Kathryn Lasky’s “The Capture” ($5.99, Scholastic).

My son first saw “Legend of the Guardians” in the theater with his grandmother, and for the past six months, I’ve been hearing how “awesome” it was. We finally rented it on Blu-Ray a month or so ago, and I found that I had to agree with him. Both of us were eager to dig into the books.

Like most adaptations, the movie and book are quite a bit different. It wasn’t nearly as different as one of our last book-to-movie reads, “How to Train Your Dragon,” but still not an entirely faithful adaptation. For one thing, “The Capture” only covers the very beginnings of the movie. I’m assuming that the movie covers an overarching story line from all or at least several of the books.

In “The Capture,” the barn owl Soren is kicked out of his nest by a nasty older brother named Kludd. There’s the first departure from the movie, in which the fall was accidental and Kludd went bad after being brainwashed. In this one, he’s a pretty nasty piece of work from the start.

Soren is captured by owls from St. Aegolius Academy for Orphaned Owls. There, he meets Gylfie, an elf owl, and together they try to avoid being brainwashed by moon-blinking, which requires a shuffling sleep pattern beneath the full moon, and also attempt to unravel the sinister plot being hatched at the academy.

The story in these 240 pages moves at a much more leisurely pace than the movie, in which these events whiz by. At the book’s end, Soren and his friends – Gylfie, Digger and Twilight, along with the nest maid snake Mrs. Plithiver – have only just begun their journey to Hoolemere and the Great Ga’Hoole Tree where the guardians live. Despite the slower pace, though there’s still plenty of action to hold the interest of young readers. While I thought the book might be moving a little too slow for my son, he was eager, when we finished, to begin the second volume immediately.

Lasky’s book offers a deeper look into the society of the owls than we get in the movie, and the conclusions in the books are not always as nice or happy as in the film. There are some scary moments and themes in the book, including a few violent scenes and the overall story of being betrayed by your brother and stolen away from your family. It’s probably a book a parent should read first and approach with a realistic idea of what your child is ready for.

My son and I found “The Capture” quite enjoyable, a bit darker, but also a bit more noble than the movie. We’re looking forward to continuing the journey with Soren.

This book was purchased by the reviewer.

Review: "20th Century Ghosts" by Joe Hill

noreply@blogger.com (Fred Phillips) — Mon, 21 Feb 2011 00:38:00 +0000

I have to admit that I’m rapidly becoming a Joe Hill fanboy. He first impressed me several years ago with his debut novel “Heart-Shaped Box,” which ranks as one of my favorite horror tales ever, and a few weeks ago, I enjoyed his latest novel, “Horns.” That led me, naturally, to the only other book Hill has in print, “20th Century Ghosts” ($13.95, Harper), a collection of short stories.

I admit that I’m not normally a fan of short story collections, but the tales in this book endeared me to Hill’s work even more. I’m reluctant to make the comparison, for obvious reasons, but reading “20th Century Ghosts” reminded me a lot of reading Ray Bradbury’s “The October Country” for the first time. Like my favorite Bradbury collection, there’s plenty of weirdness and creepiness in the pages of these stories, but there’s also a good mix of wonder, sweetness and observations on human nature.

In fact, there’s very little horrific in the best tale of the bunch, “Pop Art,” unless you count the main character’s bastard of a father (which you have to). It starts with the entirely absurd notion of an inflatable person and his best friend. For a short time, you’re waiting for the punchline, so to speak, the twist to the tale. Soon, though, you realize that Hill’s writing seriously about something completely impossible – a person that was born inflatable. By the latter part of the story, not only has the author convinced you of the realness of this person, he’s also made you care very deeply for him. In the end, it’s a touching tale that’s far removed from the expected.

Another favorite of mine is of a darker nature. “The Cape” tells the story of a young boy who discovers briefly that his favorite blanket gives him the superpower of flight and what happens many years later when he rediscovers it in his mom’s closet.

Much like his father, Hill weaves baseball into several of the stories in the collection. The most notable example being “Better Than Home,” which explores the relationship between a child with challenges and his baseball coach father who is a notorious hothead on the field, but may be the only person who understands the boy.

There’s a romance story in “Bobby Conroy Comes Back from the Dead,” albeit a slightly bloody romance between two made-up extras on the set of George Romero’s “Dawn of the Dead.” He even pokes a little fun at his own genre in the opening tale, “Best New Horror.”

Of course, for those looking for the bizarre and creepy, there’s plenty of that to be found in this book as well. The horrors range from real-world monsters like child predators (“The Black Phone”) and abusive fathers (“Abraham’s Boys”) to the supernatural. The two best of the bunch for me, though, are “Voluntary Committal” and “My Father’s Mask.” In the first, a man tries to find the answers to the disappearance of his brother from a mental institution, which leads him to the memory of a friend who disappeared when they were younger and his brother’s strange basement mazes constructed from cardboard boxes that were much more than they seemed on the inside. “My Father’s Mask” is just a downright strange tale of a teenager who is taken to a camp on the lake by his parents under the pretense that “the playing card people” are after them, and the disturbing events that follow.

As with Bradbury’s collection, the stories here often leave the reader wondering and ask more questions than they provide answers. It’s a reminder that, sometimes, the best tales are those that don’t wrap things up neatly for you, but rather leave the reader to seek his own conclusions.

Hill will be (rightfully, in most cases) stuffed into the horror category, and he also has to carry the baggage of his dad’s legacy. Though he tried to avoid it by dropping the King and shortening his middle name from Hillstrom to Hill, it hasn’t been a very well kept secret. That’s a combination that will likely cause some to dismiss Hill’s work out of hand, but they’ll be the ones missing out. Like the stories of “The October Country,” Hill’s transcend genre and usually offer keen insights into the human condition. Hill deserves to be judged on his own merits, and those who do that will discover one of the best writers working today.

Oh, by the way, don’t quit reading when you get to the acknowledgements at the end. You’ll miss something if you do.

This book was purchased by the reviewer.

Review: "Full Dark, No Stars," by Stephen King

noreply@blogger.com (Fred Phillips) — Mon, 14 Feb 2011 00:04:00 +0000

Outside of the concluding books of “The Dark Tower,” which I had waited years on, and the non-fiction “On Writing,” which I enjoyed, I haven’t picked up a Stephen King book in quite a few years. The last few efforts I read, prior to his accident, were disappointing and didn’t hold my attention. A week or so ago, though, a perfect storm led me to his latest collection, “Full Dark, No Stars” ($27.99, Scribner).

After enjoying the latest from King’s son, Joe Hill, I was in the mood for something creepy and disturbing. “Full Dark, No Stars” just happened to be waiting on my Nook and, not having any other new books that came close to what I was looking for, I decided to give it a shot. The collection contains four short tales (a point in its favor since many of the last King novels I read felt bloated and in bad need of an editor) that are, in fact, horrific and disturbing because of their very nature.

With the exception of “Fair Extension,” there is absolutely no supernatural presence in any of the stories, and even in that one, the fantastic is merely a device to move the story in the needed direction. Instead, these tales are often difficult to read simply because they’re stories of ordinary people. The motivators in the macabre tales in this collection are not ghosts or demons, but rather simple human falliblities: greed, jealousy, lust, vengeance, even the basic desire to protect your family and way of life. The stories are made more unsettling by the fact that they’re things that can and do happen everyday in the real world.

The weakest, and also the shortest, of the pieces here is “Fair Extension,” where a terminal cancer patient makes a deal to be rid of his disease. The catch is that he has to put the misfortune on someone else, in this case, his best friend since childhood. It plays on a theme from “Thinner” (to get rid of the disease, you have to give it to someone else) and seems a little rushed in execution. It doesn’t offer the same suspense and on the edge of your seat experience as the other three.

Opening tale, “1922” tells the story of a farmer whose wife hopes to sell some land she’s inherited next to the farm so a pork processing plant can be built there and so she can move to the city. To prevent that from happening, he decides to murder her and involves his teenage son in the plot. After the murder, his life falls into a downhill spiral that he can only imagine is his dead wife’s revenge.

The two most riveting pieces in the book, for me, though, were “Big Driver” and “A Good Marriage.”

In “Big Driver,” a mystery writer is sent on a short cut after a speaking engagement which leads her to a deserted gas station where she is raped and left for dead in a culvert by a giant of a man. She survives, but discovers that others haven’t. She also discovers that her misfortune was no accident, and rather than notifying the police as the person she was prior to the ordeal most certainly would have, this new woman sets out to settle the matter for herself.

In “A Good Marriage,” a woman discovers, quite by accident, that there’s a monster hiding inside of the seemingly perfect husband she’s been married to for nearly 30 years. She then must decide whether to go to the authorities and destroy her family or deal with the situation some other way.

These two novellas cost me a couple of hours of sleep, as I simply couldn’t put them down. Perhaps its because both featured a protagonist that readers can care for and get behind, something the other two stories in the collection lacked. Or perhaps it was because these are stories that also make the reader question himself. Particularly with “Big Driver,” there’s no denying what the “heroine” of the story is doing is wrong, and the danger for her is palpable. You may wish she’d just go to the authorities, but there’s also a bit of bloodlust that rises in the reader, hoping that she can carry through her plan. It reinforces the basic theme of the collection -- that ordinary people are, in many cases, capable of worse than most fictitious monsters.

The tales in “Full Dark, No Stars” aren’t groundbreaking or breathtakingly original. In most cases, they’re even fairly predictable. But the execution is fantastic, and in them, King accomplishes his stated goal in the afterword – a sense of honesty about the human condition and a collection of tales that make the reader think.

This book was purchased by the reviewer.

Review: "Horns," by Joe Hill

noreply@blogger.com (Fred Phillips) — Mon, 07 Feb 2011 20:13:00 +0000

I was both impressed and inspired by Joe Hill’s debut novel, “Heart-Shaped Box,” a few years ago, so I’ve been looking forward to digging into his latest, “Horns” ($25.99, William Morrow) for a while now.

Ignatius “Ig” Perrish once had a promising future ahead of him. He’s part of a well-to-do and well-connected family, in love with the girl of his dreams and has plans to save the world. Those plans all come crashing down on the eve of his departure for a six-month stay in England. He has a public fight with his girlfriend, Merrin, and when she’s found dead the next day, the suspicion falls on him. Ig is innocent, but having spent the night sleeping it off in his car, he has no alibi. When evidence from the scene that could have cleared his name is destroyed in a lab fire, Ig can’t be convicted, but neither can he be absolved. Now everyone in his life thinks he’s a murderer/rapist who got away with his crime because of family connections.

Now, a year later, Ig has returned to the scene of the crime in a drunken rage and done “terrible things.” When he wakes the next morning, he finds he has horns growing from his head and the people he encounters begin to reveal intimate secrets about themselves. They seem to be asking his permission to fulfill their deepest darkest desires, and with a little concentration, Ig can influence their decisions, though he can’t make them do anything against their will. The most painful secret he’ll learn, though, and the one that haunts him most, is what actually happened on the night that Merrin died.

At its heart, “Horns” is actually a romantic tale, albeit a very twisted romance. Merrin was the person that made Ig what he was before her death, and also the only thing that saves even a shred of his humanity as the events of the book start to unfold. The love story here is tragic, but still touching. That said, it’s still a horror novel, so there’s plenty of creepiness and ickiness to satisfy fans of that genre, too.

As with “Heart-Shaped Box,” the true strength of “Horns” is Hill’s characterization. The inhabitants of this story are real, fallible people, and all carry their own secrets. Hill has the power to make the reader care for them, even though there’s a hint of darkness in even the most likeable. The structure of the story is, at times, awkward, jumping back and forth in time, but the characters hold your attention and keep you reading, waiting to see what secrets unfold next.

I didn’t enjoy “Horns” quite as much as “Heart-Shaped Box,” which is probably the creepiest, best horror story that I’ve read in a good 10 years, but it’s still a highly engaging story and keeps Hill at the top of my reading list. My only complaint is that he’s not as prolific as his dad. I could do with a new Joe Hill book every year, but then again, I’m very much willing to wait for quality.

This book was purchased by the reviewer.

Freebies: Chapter 1 of Steven Erikson's "The Crippled God"

noreply@blogger.com (Fred Phillips) — Tue, 01 Feb 2011 19:23:00 +0000

Tor.com is currently offering the first chapter of Steven Erikson's upcoming book, "The Crippled God," for free with registration. The book, scheduled for release in March, is intended to be the final installment in the "Malazan Book of the Fallen." To read the chapter, head to Tor.com.

Review: "Side Jobs" by Jim Butcher

noreply@blogger.com (Fred Phillips) — Mon, 31 Jan 2011 03:16:00 +0000

For those left hanging and wondering by the somewhat shocking end to Jim Butcher’s last novel of the Dresden Files, “Changes,” here’s a collection that will help hold you over until the next installment this summer when we can find out just what the heck is going on with Harry.

“Side Jobs” ($25.95, Roc) collects a variety of Dresden stories from various anthologies over the years, and also gives readers a look at two never-before-published stories. Those two will likely be of most interest to fans.

The first, “A Restoration of Faith,” opens the book and also happens to be Butcher’s first tale of wizard private investigator Harry Dresden as he saves a runaway girl (who really doesn’t care to be saved) from a bridge troll in Chicago. It was not published, and you can see why when you read it, though it’s not as bad as Butcher seems to think judging by his opening commentary. I’ve read worse stories that did get published.

The collection closes with “Aftermath,” the story that fans will probably most anticipate. The novella takes place in the hours following the final scene of “Changes” (which I will try not to spoil here in case there are those out there who haven’t read it), and involves Sgt. Karrin Murphy and the werewolf couple Billy and Georgia. If you’re looking for the answers to your questions, you won’t get them here, but the story does offer a little taste of what might be to come in the next book. With Harry, though, you never know.

“Aftermath” gives readers, perhaps, a closer look than they’ve ever had before at Murphy, Harry’s No. 1 supporter on the Chicago PD and on-again, off-again romantic interest. It’s a theme that runs through the stories here – deeper glimpses into some of the characters that surround Harry. In “Backup,” the story is told from the viewpoint of Harry’s brother, White Court vampire Thomas Raith. In “The Warrior,” which is one of the better stories in the collection, we get some insight into Harry’s friend and retired angelic warrior Michael Carpenter, in addition to some very keen insights about Harry’s position in the great scheme ot good and evil as well. A couple of the stories, both involving magic that loosens inhibitions, build on the relationship between Harry and Murphy, and we even get a little peek inside the world of Mac, the bartender to the supernatural world.

All stories come with a brief introduction from Butcher explaining why they were all written and offering a little insight into each tale. It’s not necessary, but interesting background information.

The name of the anthology, “Side Jobs,” is certainly appropriate. The stories here were largely written for themed anthologies and, with a few exceptions, have little bearing on the overarching story of the novels. They’re just fun side trips along the way. That said, they’re entertaining and sure to be enjoyed by Butcher’s fans. Look at them as a little something extra to make the story of Harry Dresden just a little richer – and get us by until “Ghost Story” arrives in July to, hopefully, answer a few of the questions.

This book was purchased by the reviewer.