A series of five interconnected stories, each focusing on one of the clones (Sarah, Helena, Alison, Cosima, and Rachel), this graphic novel collects iA series of five interconnected stories, each focusing on one of the clones (Sarah, Helena, Alison, Cosima, and Rachel), this graphic novel collects issues 1-5 of the Orphan Black comic; it also presents the variant artwork covers which were published, allowing you to drool over those issue covers you might've missed out on.
A strong caveat: Do not, I repeat, DONOT read this graphic novel/comic series (or the follow-up series Orphan Black: Helsinki) if you have not seen at least the first season of the Orphan Black show. (Though, to be honest, if you want to get the most out of the experience, you shouldn't read the comic until you've seen the first three seasons; reading the comic in between watching season three and the currently-airing season four will allow you to catch the Easter eggs and plot point tie-ins woven into the storyline.) This comic series/graphic novel is really just for diehard fans: If you're not a member of Clone Club, then, while the artwork and story might be nice to look at and interesting to read, most of it will go right over your head.
Me? I'm a bona fide, card-carrying Clone Club member. I've been on the edge of my seat from the first minute of the first night of the very first episode, so reading this graphic novel was a great way to tide me over until the new season premiered. It's not the first season in comic book form; it's the timeline of the first season, some of which we saw, a majority of which we didn't, shown from varying perspectives and occasionally enhanced by flashbacks, all of it adding to and deepening the mythos of the Orphan Black universe. And when I said it was best to read this comic series/graphic novel in between the third and now-airing fourth season, I meant it: a scene from Rachel's story, an almost throwaway moment, has come back as a major plot point in the TV show.
Orphan Black is like a mutated, mobius-like, multi-bulbed onion; even as you peel back the layers, you peel back alternate pockets of reality. It's twisted and bizarre, dark and occasionally gross and even more often funny as hell, and as addictive as heroin. Believe me, 'cause I'm hooked....more
As one of the children in this book might say, "Yucky!" Vonda should've stuck with Star Trek novelizations (I'm guessing; never have read any of her nAs one of the children in this book might say, "Yucky!" Vonda should've stuck with Star Trek novelizations (I'm guessing; never have read any of her novelizations - never having read any of the Star Trek novelizations - I can only make guesses as to her writing talent in that world). None of the characters behave in character, except for perhaps Chewbacca; even C-3PO isn't nearly as annoyingly pedantic. And the story? Besides being, as others have pointed out, generic, it doesn't at all fit in with the Star Wars universe. Especially once you take out the standard "remnants of the Dark Side/Empire are left over and are trying to rebuild" plot points, you're left with the bit revolving around the character of Waru (view spoiler)[and its plan to "gain energy by annihilating the Force of our universe with the anti-Force of its own."
I gave up about halfway through and skimmed the rest of the book just to finish it because I couldn't take the inanity or the mediocrity any longer.["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>...more
Peter Caswell wakes in a silk-sheeted bed in a luxurious flat in London with only a song refrain running through his head to tell him who and where hePeter Caswell wakes in a silk-sheeted bed in a luxurious flat in London with only a song refrain running through his head to tell him who and where he is. You see, Peter is an assassin, the best in the world, thanks to his ability to blend in anywhere, but he never remembers where he goes or who he kills because of the implant in his head and the timed-release chemicals it contains. And that's just the way Peter wants it. The only thing he allows himself is knowing how many kills he's made and that only by the number of Sapporo beer bottles, out of twelve, with labels turned away, a count done in the moments before he reverts.
And so begins one of the most twisty-turning, heart-pounding, thought-provoking books I've read in quite some time. It would be easy to describe this book as a spy thriller wrapped up in science fiction. Easy, but probably not quite accurate, not to mention too simplistic for such a complex tale. Having never read any of Jason Hough's other works, I don't know if Zero World is characteristic for him or a story that shows him growing as an author, but I will say that what I read left me mightily impressed. It would be quite easy, with such a complex and fast-paced story, for authors to skimp on certain things such as character development or world building, but that's not the case here. In fact, I was completely blown away by how much thought Hough put into creating the parallel Earth on which most of the story takes place. The differences between our two worlds are often quite simple, yet at the same time truly innovative. (Such as opening a door: here we turn a doorknob; on the alternate Earth, a door opens by way of a foot latch. So simple, yet I dare say no-one would've thought of it had the question been posed. I know I wouldn't have. Or expressing appreciation: here we simply say “Thanks” whereas alt. Earth uses “Gratitude.” A subtle, yet powerful difference.*) Yet, those differences are never outlandish or thoughtless or untrue to the story; they feel completely organic to the culture Hough has created. Even the names of the characters populating the alternate Earth are a degree or two away from familiarity for us, yet a natural extension of alt. Earth's evolution. But what makes this world-building so amazing was how deftly Hough managed to insert so much backstory and so many details without any of it ever becoming overbearing or an info-dump. As a writer, I'm in awe. And I also kind of hate him. Just a little bit.
The storyline is told from the perspectives of both Peter Caswell and his alt-Earth counterpart, Melni, which is another way Hough gives us a greater view of the world(s) he's created. The thing is, as developed as Peter is, Hough didn't skimp on Melni's development to achieve that. Melni is just as fierce and dedicated to her mission as Peter is to hers and as the story progresses it peels away the layers of her character allowing us to find out what drives her, what scares her, what makes her Melni. Which is awesome. It's so refreshing to find a female co-protagonist who is neither a fainting wimp nor an aggro female who probably started out as male. Yes, Melni can be vulnerable and, yes, she can be hard-ass, but she never loses her humanity or her femininity. Even his secondary characters have a depth to them that gives the impression that, if Hough were asked to, could step up and become the center of the story without difficulty.
Then we get to the story itself, set sometime in the future, which is . . . complicated. I mean, you start out with an enhanced super-secret spy-assassin, then progress to space travel, wormhole travel, an alternate Earth, and one heck of a conspiracy that sets everything Peter ever knew or believed in on its ear, and you've got a story that can't be easily condensed into a short summary. At least not without giving a misleading impression of what you'll be reading or giving away any number of spoilers. For all its complexity and genre-bending subject matter, not to mention its hefty appearance, Zero World is a fast and engrossing read, sucking you in from page one and only reluctantly letting you go. It's one of those books that will keep you up at night, making you want to know what happens next and then what happens after that. Not to mention you get a bonus novella, The Dire Earth, at the end, allowing you to keep the adventure going when the main novels ends.
So, really, all I can say is if you like books of a sci-fi, spy-thriller, futuristic, alternate Earth, dystopic, action-adventure, military leaning (and who doesn't?), with just a dash of romance thrown in for good measure, I'd strongly suggest you pick up Zero World right this minute. And prepare to have your mind blown.
*About the only weakness comes from the main curse word Hough created. Where we say fucking, alt. Earth uses blixxing. Now, having gone through the arduous process of creating an adequately vivid and powerful curse word myself, I can appreciate what Hough went through to create blixxing and for that I can't fault him. But whereas fuck represents a clear, Anglo-Saxon directness, it's hard to imagine the linguistic path of blix (or is it blixx? I can't remember). I'm sure I'm in the minority with this kind of struggle and I fully acknowledge I am a linguistics geek, making this a petty quibble, but considering this was the only thing out of the entire book that gave me pause . . . that's pretty blixxing good!
I received an ARC through the Amazon Vine program in exchange for an honest review....more
This is the first Star Wars novel I've read, apart from the novelizations based on the screenplays of the first three movies (Star Wars: A New Hope [pThis is the first Star Wars novel I've read, apart from the novelizations based on the screenplays of the first three movies (Star Wars: A New Hope [personally I hate adding on that "A New Hope" because I'm a stubborn old fart; it's just plain ol' "Star Wars" for me], Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back, Star Wars: Return of the Jedi). I picked Scoundrels because it fell between the action in Star Wars and The Empire Strikes Back, figuring it would be better to pick a tie-in novel involving a time-frame and characters with whom I'm both familiar and comfortable. After all, what with the sheer number of Star Wars novels out there, the idea of just picking a title at random and jumping in is rather intimidating, so having a book that lets you ease in through the shallow end is much more pleasant. Or so I thought. Once I began reading, I reconsidered my notion that this book would be an easy introduction to the Star Wars novels: Even though the story centered around Han Solo and Chewbacca, with an appearance by Lando Calrissian, Jabba the Hutt, and even Boba Fett, it also involved other characters and settings completely unfamiliar to anyone who'd only ever watched the movies and had no knowledge of the Expanded Universe. Maybe it's just me, but I like to have at least a passing knowledge of what's going on, and to have so many new and unfamiliar planets and characters and species and organizations thrown at me is discomfiting.
Most of the reviews for Scoundrels throw out the Ocean's 11 comparison and as much as I hate to follow the herd, I'm going to in this instance for the main fact that the comparison is completely spot on. As others have pointed out, there are even 11 players in the Solo crew, so who am I to buck the trend? The problem with this comparison is that Ocean's 11 (the original or remake, dealer's choice) is an entertaining, fast-paced movie, whereas “Solo's 11” (my apologies to anyone I plagiarize by using this) involves a whole lotta nothing with a little bit of action in between. And I think this is due to the inherent nature of the heist plot. In a movie, if it's done well, even in those scenes involving the planning, which is basically just a bunch of people hanging out and doing a lot of talking, the story stays tight and moves along at a nice clip: the reason for the heist is explained, a plan is hatched, the steps required to enact said plan are laid out, usually with funny and/or exciting scenes demonstrating a few of those steps interspersed with the talking scenes, and then the talking ends and the action begins. This kind of plot should also work in book format, but again, only if it's done well, and with Scoundrels, I really can't say that happened.
The story takes place right after the Death Star has been destroyed (the first time around). Han has lost the reward money he garnered for lending a helping hand with that endeavor and since he's walking around with a bounty on his head thanks to the massive debt he owes to the gelatinous and vicious crime lord, Jabba the Hutt, Han needs to come up with a transport-load of credits and right now. His salvation seems to come in the form of a mysterious man who offers Han those credits in exchange for Han pulling a job stealing data disks from a gangster's stronghold. It's a job that's not only incredibly risky and potentially lethal, it's also completely out of Han's wheelhouse. But the roguish smuggler is desperate and the payoff is too tempting, so he accepts and sets about recruiting the perfect crew to help him carry out the caper. However, as the crew begins to work out exactly how they'll get into the fortified mansion of a Black Sun syndicate lieutenant and break into the man's virtually impregnable safe to get the goods, the situation starts looking a lot more complicated and a lot less profitable than first imagined. In the end, this job may cost Han and the gang more than they ever bargained for.
With a nod to the “who shot first” kerfuffle in Star Wars, the novel gets off to a promising start. There's some smuggling, some action, some comedy, and some intrigue as we meet the various characters in their native habitats and the heist starts coming together. But that's where things start losing steam as the story get bogged down in explaining the politics of the Empire and the exploits of Black Sun and why the mysterious man is stealing from them, not to mention the endless planning and plotting and replotting of the actual heist. There's so much setup and reconnaissance for each step along with seemingly endless discussions about how it's to be done, interspersed with background exploration as each character is given a chance to converse with another character as to how they got to this point, why they're fighting for whatever side they're fighting for, along with their motivations for joinging the heist. Honestly, for a supposed 'action' novel, there's a hell of a lot of navel gazing in it. And not a lot of either Han or Chewbacca, which is rather disappointing. Yeah, they're basically the center around which the crew revolves, but other than at the beginning of the novel, you don't really see the Dynamic Duo working on their own.
In the third act, things finally get going and there's a nice, action-packed showdown at the end, along with a surprise reveal which was fun, but it seemed to take a hell of a long time to get to that point, not to mention you have to work through a lot of confusing explanations and secondary motivations, involving so many people that eventually you lose track of who's doing what for whom and why. Which brings me back to the point I made earlier about working a heist plot in a novel. I'm sure there are a lot of exciting and tightly-paced heist novels out there, but, if Scoundrels is anything to go by, I don't think Timothy Zahn has the chops to pull it off in his novels. Most of the story is so bloated and bulky--like Jabba the Hutt in novel form--it loses any sense of excitement or urgency or momentum.
Which is why the comparison to Ocean's 11 works only in spirit, but not in form. The fun of the book never reaches the level of fun in the movie thanks to too much exposition and introspection and not enough action. Though I was mildly entertained by the book, as an introduction to the Expanded Universe of Star Wars, Scoundrels is rather disappointing....more
I'm having a hard time writing a review for Amped. On the one hand, it's an engrossing look at the human condition. What makes us human? What happensI'm having a hard time writing a review for Amped. On the one hand, it's an engrossing look at the human condition. What makes us human? What happens when that definition changes? Will humans ever evolve past their fear of that which is different? While the book may not provide answers to those questions, it does provide a glimpse into a near future when those questions come into play in the most visceral and dramatic of fashions.
The story revolves around an issue which is coming into play even today: Implants. With mechanical parts in our bodies, taking the place of our hearts, our limbs, can we still consider ourselves human beings? How far can we go in replacing our parts with machines before we stop being human? In this near-future scenario, Wilson tells the story of amplified humans, persons with a brain implant known as a Neural Autofocus, placed there to help control any number of issues from seizures and degenerative neurological diseases, to learning disabilities and psychological disorders. This implant, though, is more than just a computer chip plunked into the brain; it burrows into the brain, into the body, into every system, continually learning how to interact with the human into which it was placed, continually improving that human. Simply turning it off or removing isn't an option, because the network the implant has created remains. These amplified humans, or “amps,” are identified by the maintenance ports on their temples and find themselves easy targets of prejudice due to the fear their amplified state engenders, and eventually come under fire from conservative groups, looked upon as something beyond human and therefore beyond human law. Bit by bit, rights are taken away until amps find themselves without identity, without protection. In scenes reminiscent of the degradation of Jews in the lead-up to WWII, Wilson depicts amps losing their homes, their families, their rights, even their lives, as their ability to exist is eroded, unalienable right by unalienable right. Soon, lines are drawn between “reggies,” non-implanted humans, and “amps” in a war which will define the next stage of human evolution. Wilson paints a compelling picture of the fear, the mistrust, the anger and hostility generated by non-implanted humans towards amps. After all, amps are smarter, faster, basically an improved version of humanity. Implanted children outperform regular children in school--talk about skewing the Bell curve!--implanted adults can perform jobs the non-implanted can't--which is just an amplified (hardy har har) version of the current argument towards immigrants. In fact, the whole novel is just a slightly altered portrayal of what we're arguing about today concerning technology and humanity. And it's a very convincing imagining of how quickly this argument can degenerate into hate and how ugly the results would be, especially once crooked politics are introduced into the matter.
On the other hand, while the book contains many satisfying action scenes, and moments of tension and drama, it's a lightweight when it comes to character depth and motivation. The leading man, Owen is so nondescript, when other characters say his name, I'm startled because I've forgotten that that's what he's called. Owen is a sympathetic leading man, trying to do his best while navigating the world which Wilson has created, but all the same he's rather blah. There's a romance thrown in involving Owen which has a slapdash, last minute feel to it, and other than the fact that Lucy Crosby, the woman Owen falls in love with, has the classic “She struck me dumb with her beauty” appearance, there's no real explanation for why we should believe these two belong together. It doesn't help that Lucy is little more than a cardboard cutout, a place holder, a stock female character from fiction plot Template A. There's some story that Lyle Crosby, Lucy's brother and the ringleader of amp rebellion, (view spoiler)[not to mention a psychopath and the catalyst behind the antagonism between amps and reggies, (hide spoiler)] throws Lucy into Owen's path simply to get a feel for how malleable Owen will be and how useful to Lyle's plans. Yet, as with the relationship between Owen and Lucy, this subterfuge is just kind of passed over. In fact, aside from the very vocal “bad guy,” Senator Joseph Vaughn, and the actual, behind-the-scenes bad guy (who becomes apparent early on in the novel), we don't really get a sense of who any of the characters are, what drives them, why we should care about what they do and what they think. And even with the "bad guys," their motivations are rather shallow. The only two characters who were well-drawn, having a bit of depth and likability to them, were Jim, a rather taciturn old man who is rather like the Obi-Wan Kenobi of Eden, Oklahoma, a refuge for Owen as well as other displaced amps, and Nick, an amped child who follows Owen around like a slightly off-kilter puppy, clicking away at his Rubik's Cube in unconscious movements.
Yet, I will say this, Owen's very "everyman" nature helps drive the point of this book home. Because, while Amped is certainly about what makes us human, the overwhelming issue is what we do with our humanity, with or without amplification. Lyle, the yang to Owen's yin, the two men opposite sides of the same coin, gives in to his implant, reveling in the change it brings to his humanity and looks upon it as the next step in human evolution. Yet by letting the machinery control him, Lyle loses something elementarily human: freedom of choice. Owen continually fights his implant, recognizing it as a tool which can and should be controlled, to be used at his discretion. Ultimately making Owen the greater evolved human of the two. Which means, at the end of the day, despite the book's faults, it's still an entertaining, thought-provoking, and enthralling read.
A dynamic action-adventure yarn featuring a precocious heroine and introducing a beguiling new animal companion. I came into this novel unaware and unA dynamic action-adventure yarn featuring a precocious heroine and introducing a beguiling new animal companion. I came into this novel unaware and unfamiliar with David Weber's "Honorverse." Happily, I realized that wouldn't be a problem, as A Beautiful Friendship is whole unto itself, a novel one can read without needing an extensive grounding in the author's previous works.
Concerning the exploits of young Stephanie Harrington, precociously intelligent and occasionally irritatingly irrepressible (to her parents, that is, who constantly try to keep her out of trouble, a usually futile experiment), and her bond with a member of the extraordinary species which shares her planet, a treecat by the name of Climbs Quickly, the book has a slow but steady build, leading to a satisfying climax and a not-too-dangling opening for future books. While occasionally the language could seem a bit...clunky, it was understandable considering it was coming from a perspective of a culture trying to describe human items using non-human terms. At other times, the narrative seemed a bit wordy, but for the most part the story moved along at a brisk clip, introducing characters and concepts in a steady pace. The villain was suitably villainous without being overtly so (no cackling, no mustache-twirling) and he had a satisfying comeuppance at the end of the tale. The best part of the story was, while Stephanie was clearly described as a young adult, a preteen at the beginning of the story, she is represented in a positive way, intelligent, determined, with a clear moral compass and sense of duty. Yes, she occasionally whines and pouts and she occasionally rebelled against her parents' restrictions--if she didn't, she wouldn't be realistic. However, that wasn't her whole character. The relationship between her and Climbs Quickly, though, is at the heart of the book and in it is where Stephanie truly blossoms into a fully-fleshed human being, not just a character who happens to interact with a cute and quirky new animal. From Climbs Quickly is where Stephanie, never a waffling sort of person, gets her sense of purpose: To protect the newly discovered species from the conflicting and potentially deadly interests of the many powerful political and private groups both on planet and off. Which gives us our second plotline of the book and a continuing thread of a story for any sequels.
In the end, although I'm not the demographic towards which this book is aimed, I still enjoyed it and found it to be a delightful introduction to Weber's Honorverse....more
I freaking love this book and I love Sirantha Jax! I truly cannot get enough of this series. Sadly, from what I've heard, the next book will be the laI freaking love this book and I love Sirantha Jax! I truly cannot get enough of this series. Sadly, from what I've heard, the next book will be the last and the idea of that just breaks my heart. Even with a novel such as Aftermath, which, if I were to be cruelly honest and say that it really doesn't have a coherent story-line and that instead it's a progression of small stories involving Sirantha strung into a whole, I still say, you know what? I don't give a damn. I raced through it, even as I told myself to slow down and revel in Aguirre's storytelling; I was absorbed by and absorbed in the novel, loving every page and savoring the bittersweet sensation I felt when I reached the end. Aguirre has managed to imbue the most fantastical of what should be space-opera elements with a three-dimensional reality, grounding them and giving them depth and life in a fierce, oftentimes heartbreaking way. I don't know how she does it, but I'm grateful she does and while I'm sad for the eventual end to the Sirantha Jax series, I know every time I reread the books, I will experience anew the roller-coaster ride which is her universe, full of emotional thrills and chills and breath-taking spills (sorry, had to do it), and love every minute of it. Thank you, Ms. Aguirre....more
Why, oh, why can't we give books 10 stars? If it were at all possible, I would. I would give this book one hundred stars. I finished this today and alWhy, oh, why can't we give books 10 stars? If it were at all possible, I would. I would give this book one hundred stars. I finished this today and already I'm in withdrawal. I didn't want to stop. I tried, I tried very hard, to read Killbox as slowly as possible, to savor the story. But like any attempts of mine to savor a rich piece of chocolate, to let it melt on my tongue and slowly infuse my senses with its deliciousness, I failed miserably. From the first page, I got so caught up in the story, I couldn't not turn the pages as fast as my eyes devoured the words.
There's no way I can coherently describe the story to non-readers of this series. I'm nowhere near eloquent enough. I am in complete awe of Ms. Aguirre. She has created a series so rich, so lifelike, so real, even though the story is set in space and features aliens and concepts so totally science-fiction in nature. Despite that fact, or perhaps because of it, her characters live and breathe. None of them are perfect; each one has fears and hopes and character faults. In other words, they are three dimensional, just as real human beings are. And the relationships between them are real, not picture-perfect ideals, but messy, hard, fractious, delightful, fulfilling, full of mistakes and missed opportunities and moments of wonder. This alone would make the books wonderful reads, but the storytelling, the weaving of these characters' actions into wonderfully exciting, terrifying, exhilarating, emotional stories, make Ann Aguirre's novels top-rate, in my opinion. Plus, she made me cry. I can't tell you how many years it's been since I've cried while reading a book; too many to count. But she did it, and I'm not a weepy person. That's the mark of how involved Aguirre makes you become with these people--Sirantha Jax, March, Dina, Hit, Vel--that when they feel pain and loss, you feel it, too, and cry because of it. Though I know it is impossible, for my part I hope Sirantha Jax continues her adventures through many, many more books in the years to come; unlike chocolate, I can savor them as much and as many times as I like without getting fat....more
This will be the shortest review I've ever written: What a freakin' awesome book! Honestly, the best sci-fi book I've read in a long time. A real pageThis will be the shortest review I've ever written: What a freakin' awesome book! Honestly, the best sci-fi book I've read in a long time. A real page-turner, with humanity, humor, and knee-jumping action. Read it. That's all I've gotta say. Read it.
Re-read August 17-22, 2013: Can't add anything new to my review as it pretty much says it all. This book is freakin' awesome and Sirantha Jax is one of the best, most fully-fleshed and entertaining characters to leap (and I do mean leap) off the pages in years....more
It seems to follow a rule: The second book in a trilogy is invariably the weakest link, usually there only to bridge the story between the first and tIt seems to follow a rule: The second book in a trilogy is invariably the weakest link, usually there only to bridge the story between the first and third books. I can't say this was 100% true for A Gathering of Gargoyles but I will say, if not the story, then the characters were weaker, especially Aeriel. I don't know what happened, but somehow she became dumber during the book. Despite numerous hints, whether about something as trivial as the cloak she wore or about something as important as her true identity, she had to be beaten upside the head with a sledgehammer before any of these concepts got through to her. And once they did, she had to act in the predictable dumb-heroine manner: “What are you saying? Are you saying what I think you're saying? You're crazy!” Despite that annoyance, the story continued its theme of intertwining various elements from folklore and fairytales, as well as a deeper exploration into the sci-fi background of Aeriel's world, into a lyrical story of transformation, rebirth, and empowerment....more
When I started reading The Darkangel, I wasn't sure I would like it. After all, it was told in such a melodramatic way as to read like the fantasy ofWhen I started reading The Darkangel, I wasn't sure I would like it. After all, it was told in such a melodramatic way as to read like the fantasy of a teenage girl. When I found out, however, that the book was published when the writer, Meredith Ann Pierce, was only 23, I understood a little bit better why I was getting that impression.
Though the book has its flaws, the story soon swept me up into in heady mix of folkloric and fairytale elements, set within a sci-fi framework of a planet colonized by a people called the Ancients many moons ago. I won't go into the details of a synopsis—others before me have done that, and quite well—but I will say that this is one of the most unique books I've read, weaving together disparate and seemingly incompatible story ingredients into a compelling dark fantasy. I'm just a bit disappointed that I came late to the party and didn't discover this series until now....more
Awesome!!! But it's too short! I want something that's more like 100, 200, 300, etc. pages long... mainly because I never want the Firefly/Serenity stAwesome!!! But it's too short! I want something that's more like 100, 200, 300, etc. pages long... mainly because I never want the Firefly/Serenity story to end. Oh well.
The artistry is done quite well done, with lots of action and violence and gore, and interspersed with other artists' portraits of the main characters. And of course you can't go wrong with Joss Whedon's storytelling. Brett Matthews, too, I guess, although I can't say what exactly he added to the story. The introduction, written by Nathan Fillion, is the perfect amuse bouche, a great way to start off the novel. As I said, I just wish that story was longer....more
This is my first entry into the Doctor Who novelization universe and I chose this title because Donna is my favorite of the Doctor's companions. I havThis is my first entry into the Doctor Who novelization universe and I chose this title because Donna is my favorite of the Doctor's companions. I have to say, I was rather disappointed with the book. The story is twisty, turny, and confusing, only working itself out towards the end, which isn't necessarily bad, but there seemed to be little point to the whole thing. To me, it was as though the author was boasting, "Look at how confusing I can make this plot!" without any real effort made to draw the reader in through drama or empathy. My main problem was the characterization of both the Doctor and Donna. Missing was the Doctor's trademark sparkle and energy, as embodied on the show most skillfully by David Tennant; only occasionally did I see glimpses of it in the book and even then it felt flat, the merest sketch of the Doctor's true character. In the book, Donna, that wonderful, acerbic, pragmatic person as portrayed by the talented Catherine Tate, is instead shown as a whiny and rather abusive dullard; certainly not the Donna I know. I have to wonder if the author has even watched the show about which he's writing. I'm not giving up on the Doctor Who novelizations. I just hope the other authors are better at capturing the show's universe than Mr. Simon Messingham....more