Books

I haven't talked about books for months. I could fill up weeks with book posts, but for right now, I want to talk about two books that will probably make it to my Best of 2013 List.

Both of these books are YA (young adult) but don't fool yourself into thinking that means that they're in any way soft, or small, or written-down. I'm not providing links because I'm not endorsing one seller or format over any other seller or format- both of these books are widely available and a quick Google will lead you to places of purchase.

This one is so hard to describe- the main character (only called A) wakes up in a different body every day. A has no control over which body, A only knows that it's a different one every day,  and that A never stays in the same body more than one day, or occupies that same body ever again. A also knows that A can affect the host's life but chooses not to, especially given that the host may have to live with the consequences of A's choices on that day. A lives this way, always careful, alway just surviving until the next morning, until A falls in love with a girl named Rhiannon.

This story is strange and beautiful and I loved every word of it. I hope there will be a sequel.

There is another short book, called Six Earlier Days, which features other days of A's life. It may only be available as an electronic book. It's definitely worth reading.

There isn't much I can say about The Fault in Our Stars by John Green without being spoilerish (and take care reading the comments on any page you search), except that it's about a sixteen year old girl with terminal cancer. It's wonderful and sweet and funny and sharp and shattering. And did I mention the terminal cancer? Make sure you have lots of tissues handy.

I'm busy searching out more John Green and David Levithan books- I'll get back to you on them.

Books- John Scalzi and Rob Reid

I haven't talked about books in ages (since February, if the Blog Archive search is correct). I've read way too many to condense into a single post, so I'm going to divide them up over a few, grouped arbitrarily.

Something my friend Laura said on Facebook sent me to John Scalzi's blog, and from there to his books. From what I can tell, the prolific Scalzi has two distinct fiction styles: Old School Hard SF, and Smart Ass Funny SF. Smart Ass Funny SF is my middle name (you can look it up), so that's where I went. It's been a hilarious journey.

 I started with The Android's Dream, in which the only thing that can save the Earth from alien invasion is a low-level diplomat and a sheep who doesn't look or sound anything like a sheep. Seriously.

That segued to Agent to the Stars, where a low level Hollywood agent is drafted to represent our first alien visitors, who just happen to have a little PR issue.

Which brought me to Redshirts, which is sort of Galaxy Quest except the opposite.

I loved all three of these books unreservedly- the stories are well crafted, the women are smart and funny and capable, and the aliens are a hoot- which is not to say that there isn't a serious message underneath all of the laughter. Scalzi has several short stories available through Kindle, and I've enjoyed them. I haven't read any of his Old School SF yet, but I understand it's very good too, though very different in tone from the Smart Ass stuff.

 Year Zero is not by John Scalzi, but this book by Rob Reid is in the same vein- a low level lawyer is contacted by assorted aliens, all of whom are deeply and seriously, and dangerously  enamored with 70's rock 'n roll (the good stuff and the bad). I'm still reading this one, but I can tell you that much hilarity ensues.

Books- Part 2, Grownup Stuff

I don't  know how I managed to get to  the ripe old age of umpty-umph without having read Stella Gibbons' Cold Comfort Farm, and I don't know what brought it to my attention at this stage of the game, but I'm glad. The story of young Flora Poste, orphaned and  in possession of only a subsistence inheritance but no desire to earn a living, had me chortling from beginning to end. Flora descends, with her patronizing, no-nonsense ways, on her rural, distant relatives, The Starkadders, who have always lived at Cold Comfort Farm, explaining to her horrified friend :"Well, when I am fifty-three or so I would like to write a novel as good as "Persuasion", but with a modern setting, of course. For the next thirty years or so I shall be collecting material for it. If anyone asks me what I work at, I shall say "Collecting material." No one can object to that. "

If the tireless Flora resembles any Austen heroine, it's Emma, bossing and rearranging the Starkadders as she pleases, plunging into messy personal situations with aplomb ("That would be delightful," agreed Flora, thinking how nasty and boring it would be. ), and meeting her match in Aunt Ada Doom, who once saw something nasty in the woodshed.

The uphill battle ( It was curious that persons who lived what the novelists called a rich emotional life always seemed to be a bit slow on the uptake. ) is all of the fun. I will say that the book feels, at times, to be all teeth and no bite, with the resolution coming on suddenly and almost too neatly. But the ride is such fun.

I've been on the Christopher Moore train for awhile now, and this is my 5th or 6th Moore in the last few months, so I know what to expect. But even so, Fluke, the story of whale researchers, and what they find,  is out there. Even for Christopher Moore- he of ancient creatures who wreak horniness on small California towns, and creator of Jesus's childhood friend Biff- it's out there. Hilarious, and as always, great fun to read, but man... it's out there...

Why would an ex-mob hit man hire someone to rob his own casino? Steve Brewer tells us in Lost Vegas, his expertly crafted and written heist novel. I have never understood why Brewer isn't more well known- he certainly deserves to be. This novel is only available as an eBook- go buy it. You won't be sorry.

I honestly don't know what to say about Wool, Hugh Howey's novellette (novella? long short story? fairly short book?). The post-apocalyptic characters live underground, and have lived underground for so long that the reasons why have been lost to history, or maybe to revisionists. Either way, questioning the arrangement can get you sent Above, to die. The Sheriff's wife was one of those sent Above, and now he wants to go, to find out for himself, if the surface of the earth is really a vast and deadly wasteland. It's a glum and depressing tale that ended in a way that I really didn't expect. I didn't love it, and I didn't hate it, but I wasn't tempted to move on with the next books in the series (as far as I can tell, the books are set in the same universe, but all have different characters). But now, after some time has passed, I find myself still thinking about the book, and I'm curious to see what happens next. So I think I'll buy an omnibus with books 1-4 and see. I am totally confused about the titles. #1 is Wool, #2 Proper Gauge, #3 is Casting Off,  #4 is The Unraveling, and #5 is The Stranded, but so far as I can tell, the stories (which are longer in later volumes) have nothing whatsoever to do with knitting (and I'm not hallucinating- those ARE knitting words, right?). So strange.

P.D. James, noted British mystery writer, has written a sequel to Pride and Prejudice, which is also a murder mystery. It's also deadly dull, with absolutely none of the joy and humor of the original. I didn't finish it.

I not only finished Patrick deWitt's The Sisters Brothers, I devoured it. The story of a pair of Old West brothers, one of whom is having second thoughts about being a hired killer, is extremely True Gritish, except that I liked this book a lot more than True Grit. I laughed out loud a couple of times (once in ATL- people looked at me funny). I also cried. I thought it was marvelous. I am not the only person to think so- it was shortlisted for the 2011 Man Booker Prize. I eagerly await the inevitable movie. (Side Note: there is a whole category of Sisters/Brothers books that I discovered while looking for links to this one. I now need to go and bleach my brain).

I suppose The Night Circus will be nominated for all sorts of awards too- much of the world is falling all over itself with praise for this fantasy about a selfish bet between two magicians, and the circus where the much of the action plays out. I didn't hate the book, but neither did I love it. Or even like it very much. It felt far too convoluted, far too purposely dense, far too... I don't know... much effort... for me. I wanted to love it. I expected to love it. I hoped to love it. But I didn't, in part, I think, because it doesn't play by proper fantasy rules. I don't care if the magic isn't explained, but the rules of the magic have to be set and followed in order for me to willingly suspend my disbelief. In this book, there seemed to be no rules at all- need a clock maker who can fashion amazing time pieces from almost thin air? You got him. Need someone who can stop time? Yep. Need someone who can build structures from paper, that can hold humans? Indeed. Is there any sense or logic to these powers? Nope.

But, I'm definitely a really tiny minority- the praise for this book is almost universal (on Amazon, less than 100 of 800 reviews are 1 or 2 star, and over 400 have 5 stars). So don't take my word for it. Go read this one, and tell me what you think. I'd love to hear.

Books- Part 1

I haven't talked about books in ages. I read a ton in Asheville, not a lot in SoCal, and a few once I got home again. The total surprised even me (and I was there, the whole time I was reading). All in all, there are too many books to do in one post, so I'll start today with the YA and Mid-Grade bunch.

Last time I talked about books, I mentioned that I'd started Graceling, by Kristin Cashore. I was immediately hooked by the story of young Katsa, whose Grace (special power) was killing people. Katsa's universe is exceptionally well drawn, and the story kept me entranced throughout. The story is intense, and I'm not sure I'd recommend it for Voracious Reader for another couple of years, but it's excellent. My only complaint, and it's an odd one, is that none of the character names felt *right* to me. I don't know what was wrong with them, exactly, but I never once felt like those names were the character's actual names.

I segued immediately from Graceling, to Fire, which is another story set in the same universe but with almost entirely different characters. It's a prequel, of sorts. I found it equally fascinating, though again, not suitable for Voracious Reader. Yet. (There's S-E-X in it).

I've pre-ordered Bitterblue, which is the next book in the *series* (is it a series when the stories flit around in the timeline?). This one is set in Katsa's time again, or at least Bitterblue is a character from Graceling. And once again, the name bothers me- even in this universe, I can't believe anyone would name a princess Bitterblue. But that won't keep me from starting the book the moment it downloads to my Kindle.

My Great-Niece Malerie recommended Neal Schusterman's Unwind, to me. Here's another YA that I won't be passing on to Voracious Reader for awhile. This may be the most unsettling book I've read in a very long time. It's set in our future, after a war (a real war, not just a war of words) between Pro-Choice and Pro-Life people. The result of the war is that all life is considered sacred, but between the ages of 13-17, teenagers can be Unwound-completely and totally dismantled for their parts (transplant science having progressed enough that every cell can be reused). Parents can, and do, *unwind* their troublesome children, society can *unwind* the surplus population (and since all births are sacred, there's plenty of surplus), and religious folks can dedicate a child as a Tithe, raised specifically to be unwound. It's a fascinating and disturbing story. Warning- you won't get it out of your head for a long time.

Dust is set in drought stricken Sasketchewan, in the years between the two world wars. Young Robert Steelgate's brother goes missing, and a mysterious rainmaker comes to town. This fantasy-real world is exceptionally well drawn, the writing is lovely, and the characters pop right off the page. This book was nominated for an Edgar award (from the Mystery Writers of America), though I don't know which year (and I assume it didn't win, since it's still listed as a nominee). I thought the book was excellent right up until the ending, where it all fell apart for me. But the writing is so beautiful, and the setting so *real*,  that I recommend it anyway.

Matthew J. Kirby's Icefall is nominated for an Edgar award this year (that's how I found it, from the MWA announcement list). Solveig is a middle child, with a beautiful older sister, and a younger brother who is the heir to their father's throne. They've been sent to a far-off ice-bound place for their own safety, but danger has followed them. I thought this book was wonderful, and though it's melancholy, I think Voracious Reader will love it. I sincerely hope that Solveig has more adventures.

I worship the fingers that Dave Barry types with, so when he recommended Jack Gantos' Dead End in Norvelt, this year's Newberry Award Winner, I bought it immediately. Unfortunately, the story didn't resonate with me- it's just too.... too quirky... too many weird and annoying characters (especially Jack's parents)(oh yeah, and Jack Gantos is the main character). Sometimes a book will hit me like that, and I change my mind later. So I set it aside for now.

More reviewlets tomorrow- in which I don't love a book that everyone else in the world seems to adore

Books and some video

 I know that I said that I was going to read Chrisopher Moore's Fool next (after finishing The Stupidest Angel, which was a hoot- a blend of The Gift of the Magi and George Romero. It's not called A Heartwarming Tale of Christmas Terror for nothing). I started Fool. And I though was enjoying the patented Moore wise-cracking, bawdy narrator, and total goofiness, something felt just a bit off, less joyous than the other stories. I hadn't read any of the reviews, and I'm sorely lacking in my Shakespeare Knowledge, so even though the king's name was Lear, and his daughters were Goneril, Reagan, and Cordelia, it still wasn't until Cordelia was exiled that I caught the drift of the story. Then I read a couple of reviews which said that the book followed the story arc of the play, and so I set it aside. I will read it eventually, and I'm sure I will enjoy it, but I'm just not in the mood for a tragedy at the moment.

 I finished listening to Thuvia, Maid of Mars. Thuvia herself is a McGuffin- she's onstage quite a bit, but only to drive the plot (and all Martian males wild with desire for her). She's no simpering creature, though, and she's not prone to fainting the way Jane Clayton was- toward the end, she shows a prowess for shipboard cannons. But the story is really about Carthoris, son of John Carter and Dejah Thoris, and his journey to rescue the woman he loves. It's a wild adventure, as are all of the Barsoom stories.

 I segued right into The Chessmen of Mars, which features Tara, daughter of John Carter and Dejah Thoris. I've only just started, so she may be McGuffiny as well (given that I'm only on Chapter 3 and she already needs rescuing), but she's a strong character, and I'm liking her. And while Barsoom has lots of weird and creepy creatures, the headless humans with spiders on their shoulders may be the absolute creepiest.

After setting Fool aside, I took up with Graceling, one of Amazon Kindle's Daily Deals, and I'm glad that I did. The story revolves around teenage Katsa, a girl whose different colored eyes signal a Grace, a strange talent. Some Gracelings can cook, others can hold their breaths for long periods, Katsa can kill. She's an unwilling assassin for her uncle, the King, yoked by her unnatural skills and the non-Graceling population's wariness of those with special talents. I'm not very far into the book yet, but I'm totally hooked.

After I finish with the Spider Heads, I think I'm going to give the listening a rest for a bit (I've heard something like 14 Edgar Rice Burroughs books in a row), and do a little watching. I can watch streaming video on my Kindle Fire, which fits perfectly on the little treadmill ledge. I've decided to start with Downton Abbey. I'm pretty sure that'll make exercising a bit less tedious.

Books

I need to finish getting my handouts printed and my workshop samples and materials together for the Winter Retreat in Asheville, so I can get them sent. I haven't even started wrapping presents. Hell, I mostly haven't started *buying* presents yet. I could be doing Christmas baking. I could be working on tonight's supper. The bathroom needs cleaning...

So, what have I been doing instead?

Reading.

 You know how Writing Pundits always say: show, don't tell? There's nothing but telling in this book. The notion intrigued me- Anne Boleyn and Henry VIII working out their differences as they are reincarnated in different lifetimes. Sounds good, right? Wrong. Pages and pages and pages and pages of descriptions of life, with nary a bit of dialog. The descriptions in Threads were at least interesting. But when the author went back in time, with Henry and Anne sometime being lovers, sometimes being mother and son, always soul mates even before that whole Tudor Debacle, I bailed.

 I wasn't tempted to bail on The Warlord of Mars, the third installment in Edgar Rice Burroughs' John Carter saga, though I did sigh in frustration as time and time again in these books, Burroughs made it clear that John Carter could read minds, and then NEVER EVER HAD HIM DO IT WHEN IT COULD ACTUALLY  HELP HIM! Sorry, I had to get that out of my system. Other than that, this was another satisfying, rip-roaring tale of masculine superiority, derring do, scantily dressed damsels in distress, mighty enemies who sometimes became mighty allies, with interrupted reveals and amazing coincidences up the ying-yang. Burroughs was a visionary, he predicted fax machines, GPS, auto-pilot systems, and Jabba the Hutt.

 I've only just started listening to Thuvia, Maid of Mars, which takes up a year or so after the ending of Warlord. In this book (at least so far), John Carter is a bit player. His son, Carthoris, is the star. Well, I'm thinking that feisty Thuvia, Princess of Ptarth may be the actual star, but we'll see. As with Tarzan and Korak, the only real differences between Burroughs' fathers and sons are the names of their sweethearts.

 I think maybe only Christopher Moore could write a book about a lonely sea monster who causes an entire California coastal town to become horny. Well, maybe he's not the only one who could write it, but surely, he's the only one who could not only make me believe in the monster, but laugh out loud repeatedly throughout. And be sorry when I finished because I wanted to spend more time with the characters.

Luckily for me, I started The Stupidest Angel immediately afterward. Set about five years after the ending of Lust Lizard (I'm way behind on Moore's backlist, and mostly trying to read them in order), and in the same locale. In fact, not only are many of the characters from LL here, but a few from other Moore tales as well (including from Lamb). It's not a full length novel, and I'll be sorry when I'm done with this one too.

Next up? Fool, another one by Moore. I have no idea what it's about. I don't care- I'll happily follow wherever his twisted little mind leads.

Socks, and A Book Update

I finished the last pair of socks that MUST be done before Christmas. It's not that I don't have more knitting that I want to do, and it's not that there isn't more that I have to do after Christmas (we're delaying the SoCal Celebration until late January so we can have it in person), but as far as socks that I need to have finished and under the tree- this is the last pair. Woohoo!

Remember that I said I'd get back to you about whether Swan Song had a happy ending or not? Well, here's my verdict: I'm not ever going to know. I continued with the book for as long as I could, but McCammon piled on disturbing scene after disturbing scene after disturbing scene, and finally, I called it quits. I can read and enjoy dark- I mean, I love Dexter, after all. But there's a jolly sense of depraved humor about Dex and there isn't even a trace in Swan Song to help leaven the... well... I'm not going to put those scenes in your head. It's going to take me a long time to get them out of mine.

I'm not sure what I'm going to read next, but you can be sure it'll have some chuckles.

Books

 Ignore the blonde wig, tiara, and skirt, and especially ignore the goofy expression- this is one rip-roaring tale. As with all of Burroughs' books, it's full of amazing coincidences, big battles, interrupted reveals, beautiful women who fall instantly in love with the Hero, strong men who meet as enemies and become friends, and cliff-hangers. The Gods of Mars is Good Stuff.

 One of the nice things about reading a series nearly 100 years after it was first published, is that I can plunge right into the next book without waiting. And it's a good thing that I had The Warlord of Mars waiting on the Kindle Fire (in the audio section) because The Gods of Mars left a whole lot undone.

And another reason that it's good to come to a series late? You can still be just in time for the movie.

I enjoyed Christopher Moore's Lamb, but maybe not quite as much as others did. Given that my religious leanings are pretty much nonexistent, I didn't feel any delicious naughtiness when Moore took gentle liberties with the story of Jesus's life. That said, it was fun and funny and sad and really, quite good. It's interesting that with no conscious selection on my part, several of my recently read books have featured angels.

 I discovered Heck, Where The Bad Kids Go, while playing on the Kindle Fire with Bee Girl (who used her own money to buy one). This story of a recently deceased, moderately naughty sister and her mostly innocent brother came up while BG and I were surfing the Kindle Store. I was sufficiently intrigued to buy the book. I read a few chapters, and while it's fun, and I think kids will really love it, it wasn't quite up my alley. I'll finish reading it eventually, but I probably won't read the rest of the books in the series, though I'll have no problem buying them for the young readers in my life.

 11/22/63, however, was exactly up my alley. I am on record as loving Stephen King. I am also on record as a fan of his story-telling and his stories, without always being a fan of his endings. In this book, he gets the story of love and time travel right, all the way through. So right, in fact, that I barely came up for air. This one is making it to the upper tier of my Best books of 2011.

It's an odd coincidence that immediately after 11/22/63, I started reading Robert McCammon's Swan Song, given that the book has often been compared to The Stand. And truly, the similarities are pretty amazing- both are books about the ending of civilization as we know it. Both books follow a series of characters as they learn to navigate the new world. Both books have magical characters, and nearly-all-powerful Forces of Evil. There are differences too- Swan's Song apocalypse is of the nuclear variety, so much of the infrastructure and most of the food, is gone (not to mention a drastic change in weather), while in The Stand, most of the buildings and terrain remain intact. But maybe the biggest difference is that Swan Song just isn't as good as The Stand (a purely subjective assessment, but there it is)- the story is certainly interesting, but the characters haven't grabbed me in the way that King's did (it's not a coincidence that two of the characters in my Delphi series are named Nick and Stu).

It seems unlikely that Swan Song can have even a mildly hopeful ending. I'll get back to you on that.

Books

16 Hours in airports (both ways) leaves me with a lot of reading time.

 I finished Robert Kroese's Mercury Rises, which is a sequel to Mercury Falls, and while not quite as laugh-out-loud funny as the first, I still enjoyed it. and the main characters (an angel, a writer, and The Antichrist, as well as a whole bunch of other Heavenly, and The Other Place, whackdoodles). It looks like  Mercury Swings, a free short story (or maybe a novella), is a prequel to the other books. I didn't know it existed until just now, but it's safely on my Kindle already, so I'll let you know.

 Our favorite sociopathic serial killer is unaccountably dense in Double Dexter. Even for a guy who isn't quite up on actual human emotions and reactions, he seems awfully slow to catch on to a few really large hints. That said, I enjoyed this journey into his twisted mind.

 I did not love all of the short stories in West Coast Crime Wave, but I liked enough of them to make the read enjoyable. I especially liked Steve Brewer's contribution to the collection. There was a bit of formatting weirdness in the book, one story was completely underlined, but I imagine they'll work those kinks out soon.

 Just in case I got stuck in strange cities, I loaded up the Kindle before I flew out. I bought several of Christopher Moore's novels, starting with Practical Demonkeeping. I only just started the book, but I'm pretty sure that his twisted sense of humor is right up my alley.

 J.D. Rhoades' two short stories in The Caretaker were both quick and satisfying reads. I didn't love the Courier Font, but I adjusted pretty quickly.

 J.A. Konrath's The List is described as a technothriller (one word). I started reading it last night but it's not striking my fancy at the moment. I think I'll put it aside for awhile, and try again later.

 My good friend Ann recommended Mary Stanton's series, so I started with the first, Defending Angels. It's probably the polar opposite of The List. I'm enjoying it but it's maybe just a tad too cozy for me. We'll see.

 I've been listening to Tarzan books as I treadmill, for the past couple of months (letting the Kindle read them out loud to me).  In Tarzan the Untamed, Tarzan is a very very busy Lord of the Jungle: he becomes a widower, he reverts to his savage roots, he takes on the German Army single-handed, he rescues a downed English pilot, he is wary of a pretty German Spy (who, of course, falls in love with him)(and of course, he doesn't even notice), he tames a wild black lion, he crosses deserts, he discovers a hidden city of maniacs, he rescues his friends, and finally he learns something that we probably knew already. Whew...


This is the seventh Tarzan book that I have listened to in a row, and they're all a hoot. At least once in every book, I laugh out loud (and an out-loud laugh while you're dripping on the treadmill is a very good thing). This time around, after having been previously warned that shooting a lion with a pistol would only piss the lion off : (Lieutenant Harold Percy) "Smith-Oldwick drew the pistol from his shirt. 'If he has made up his mind to kill me,' he thought. 'I can't see that it will make any difference in the long run whether I infuriate him or not. The beggar can't kill me any deader in one mood than another.'"

Next up is Tarzan the Terrible, which is the last book in the Tarzan Omnibus. Though I try not to learn too much about the books before I listen to them, I am pretty sure that there are dinosaurs in this one, y'all.

There are many more Tarzan books (I think there were 24 total), but after I finish listening to Tarzan the Terrible, I'm going to switch to Burrough's John Carter of Mars series. From what I can tell, John Carter is another gorgeous hunk of invincible man-meat. I suspect I'm going to enjoy these books every bit as much. In fact, I just bought a 5-book collection. Just this minute.

The Kindle is a wonderful and dangerous thing.

Books

 I finished the Jungle Tales of Tarzan, a loosely connected series of short stories in which a young, pre-Jane Tarzan falls in and out of love, tries fatherhood, steals, murders, kidnaps, is confused by dreams, contemplates the existence and meaning of God, and stays perfectly still as poisonous insects crawl on his eyeballs. Whatta guy!

 It is rumored that Edgar Rice Burroughs did not like Jane and wanted to get rid of her. Like A. Conan Doyle, he swiftly found out that fans don't like it when favorite characters get killed off, especially with no warning (and in a really nasty way). So though we know that Jane's death isn't permanent, in Tarzan the Untamed, Lord Greystoke doesn't. And he really, and I do mean really, doesn't like the Germans.

I have no idea how to classify Robert Kroese's Mercury Falls, but this story of a weary reporter, an angel, and the Antichrist, all fighting to postpone The Apocalypse, made me laugh out loud three times in the first three chapters. I understand that this book was self-published, and I only found it through Amazon's Kindle Deal of the Day, and I would not have bought it if it had not been 99 cents, but it's solid proof that self-publishing does not automatically equal a poorly written book. I don't know if the story will hold up, but so far, I'm wildly entertained and have already ordered the next book in the series, Mercury Rises.