Christine Amsden's Blog: Christine Amsden Author Blog, page 49
July 12, 2011
Series Review: Codex Alera
I offered my impressions of Furies of Calderon back in May, focusing on the contrast between Jim Butcher's Dresden Files series, and this epic fantasy series. Since then, I have finished all six books in the series, and thoroughly enjoyed them.
Tavi continued to be my favorite character throughout the series. He's clever, surprisingly confident given his lack of fury craft, and determined. When he does something, he puts his whole self into the effort, holding nothing back, and he doesn't pay much attention to rules — whether "should" or "could." He makes the impossible possible over and over again, as he grows from the small fifteen-year-old boy with big dreams into a man.
I decided to wait and do a full series review, instead of a book-by-book review, because this is the sort of adventure that needs to be read in order. I'd even recommend in close order, since the entire series has already been written.
My only complaint about the series was the sheer volume of time spent on battles and warfare. To be fair, that's really what the books were about, and so given that these tend to be my least favorite parts of a book, it is telling that I so enjoyed a series focusing on battles.
If you like epic fantasy with a huge adventure component, you should check these out.
Rating: 4/5
Title: Codex Alara (Begins with Furies of Calderon)
Author: Jim Butcher
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July 11, 2011
Summer Vacation, Book Tour, and Website Upgrades
I haven't posted in more than a week because we took a vacation. Half of it was spent right here at home, relaxing and taking the kids to the pool — not to mention staying away from the stifling heat of my upper-floor study.
Well, I'm baaaack. I read a few books last week, so I can get ahead on my reviews for once. I'm teaching a writing workshop this month, which usually inspires me with new writing tips.
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Also, this week I'm doing another virtual book tour, thanks to Positively Published!
First stop: A new EXCERPT at Speaking Without Interruption.
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My husband upgraded Word Press this week, which, for some reason, means that Google Friend Connect no longer works. I'm sure my brilliant geek will figure something out (although he muttered something about brilliance not helping when it's someone else's code).
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June 29, 2011
The Immortality Virus Prequel Scene
This is not a scene from The Immortality Virus, but a special extra scene that takes place 200 years earlier. I just wrote it for a bit of fun…hope you enjoy!
St. Louis, 2250
Alexander Lacklin knew he needed to quit his job, but he also knew work was scarce – even for someone with his reputation. A farm in Iowa was courting him, but the farms were beginning to make his skin crawl. Their contracts for indentured servitude looked more and more like slavery.
"It's not ready for human testing," Alex told his boss for the hundredth time. "We've barely had enough time to begin the animal studies."
"Your reports said there were no side effects," Maxwell Brice said, his normally pale, pointed face turning an interesting shade of crimson. That usually meant he had already made his decision and no longer wanted to hear arguments.
Alex ignored the silent warning. "I said there were not short-term side effects. No immediate side-effects. That is not the same thing as no side-effects! Two weeks of animal trials is hardly enough to consider such a dramatic change in every human's diet."
"It's not that dramatic. People have been eating soybeans for centuries."
"I'm not sure these are soybeans anymore!" Alex stood up, his wheeled office chair flying back. "I've said all of this if you've read the reports. I'm not ready to risk human lives on this."
"You're risking them anyway," Maxwell said. "People are starving out there. There's not enough food." He didn't mention last week's deadly food riots in Washington, D.C., in which over a thousand men, women, and children had lost their lives. He didn't have to. They both knew what was at stake, but Alexander also knew that whatever food source came out of this lab, it was only a temporary solution. Even if the cheap meal bar could sustain human life, it couldn't keep up with the ever-increasing population. It also tasted like cardboard, but Alex knew that was a moot point.
Besides, the mutated soybean plant was now so unlike a soybean he wasn't sure it deserved the same name, let alone the assumption that any and all dietary effects would be similar. For all he knew, it would sterilize the entire human race – which, despite the fact that they no longer aged, would be a disaster.
"I'm not signing off on it," Alex said. "And you're not putting my name on that thing."
"I could fire you," Max said.
Alex shrugged, supremely unconcerned. "I'm sure your boss has more useless grandchildren he can hire to replace me."
"All right, then I'll just have to demote you."
"What?" Alex stood still, staring at his now nearly purple-faced boss in shock.
"I'm giving Ben the role of head researcher. He's already agreed to sign off on human testing."
"You can't do that!" Empty words, Alex realized, even as he said them. Max could – and had.
"I'll expect you downtown this afternoon to help us screen the test subjects." With that, he turned and strode from the office.
Alex sat down, feeling numb. Almost unconsciously, he dialed his wife's phone number.
"What do you want?" Susan asked, sharply.
"I just needed to talk to someone."
"Did you miss the part where I'm filing for divorce?"
He hadn't. He only hoped she would change her mind, and realize that he had been correct. Abandoning the human race by leaving with a colony ship would have helped no one save a handful of wealthy people with enough money to escape the planet before the population went from insane to ludicrous. They said the colonists were heroes, pioneering for the sake of the human race, which could only be true if there was any way for the rest of the human race to follow. There wasn't. There just weren't enough ships.
"They're starting human testing," Alex said.
Susan was quiet for a long time.
"Susan?"
"I'm sorry, Alex." She sounded like she meant it, too, and for a second he heard the woman he had fallen in love with, rather than the one who had abandoned him when things got too hard. "I wish I could do something, but I can't, and I need to move on with my life. So do you."
She hung up, leaving Alex with a hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach, but also a renewed determination.
An hour later, he joined the research group downtown, on the old courthouse steps not far from the Arch. Flyers had been handed out to the thousands of homeless people living under bridges, in condemned buildings, and in trash cans – they weren't hard to find these days. The flyers offered food in exchange for volunteering in a research project, and they had turned out in droves. They filled the once-manicured lawns, now overgrown with weeds. They even filled the dried up fountain as they crammed in, elbow to elbow, each hoping for anything that would fill their empty stomachs.
Alex used his badge to push through the throng, noticing the hungry eyes of the people who stepped aside, as if they thought he might have food on him. More than one person brushed their hands against his pockets as he moved forward, and he sensed if he had anything in them, it would have been long gone. Luckily, he had been fitted with a state-of-the-art portable computer chip embedded into his skin, removing the need for him to carry money or I.D.
At the stairs of the courthouse, things were worse. Even with his badge, he had to push his way in, and the angry glares and mutters that followed him inside told him they all found him suspect.
"Where's the food?" More than one person shouted, as if they were afraid the entire thing was some kind of sick ruse. Perhaps it was.
The research team was assembled at the top of the stairs. Ben, with a big smirk on his cherubic face, reveled in handing out orders, while the other members of the team looked from Ben to Alex in confusion.
"Now that Alex has had the courtesy to show up," Ben said with as much disdain as he could manage, "we can start."
Ben picked up a bullhorn, and began to talk to the crowd, telling them about the wonderful new food bar that provided a day's worth of nutrition. That was debatable, since most of the monkeys they had used in the animal trials wanted at least three.
The crowd stirred restlessly, their murmurs making Ben's announcement difficult to hear. He told them he could only take applicants in good health, and that each test subject would receive a week's worth of nutri-bars.
When he finished, Alex took the bullhorn.
"What are you doing?" Ben hissed.
"Telling them the truth." Alex pushed past the man, who was two centuries younger than Alex, with all the cockiness of youth. He stepped onto the platform and raised the bullhorn.
"What they're not telling you," Alex said, with the volume turned to maximum, "is that these bars have not been tested."
Murmurs began sweeping through the crowd, a low buzzing that began to fill Alex's ears, but he pushed on.
"We don't know if they're safe. We don't know if they'll kill you."
The murmurs grew louder, now beginning to sound more like a swarm of angry bees.
"I urge you not to volunteer for testing, until we know they're safe."
Above the buzzing came first one angry shout, then another. Alex couldn't hear the words, but he sensed the tone – they were mad. These people had been pushed around enough, and they weren't going to take it any more.
Finally, Alex heard a clear question above the shouts and murmurs. "So is there food or not?"
"I think we may want to move," Tom, the second most senior member of the team said.
Indeed, the crowd was surging forward, at first a few, and then all of them. The researchers exchanged looks, and then all of them ran inside the building, taking refuge in a room on one side of the hallway, behind the boxes and boxes of food.
What followed could only be called a stampede. The hungry people poured through the grand front hallway, tearing open boxes and grabbing as many nutri-bars as they could carry before running off with their prizes. As the boxes emptied, fights erupted, leaving men, women, and children bloodied or dying. Those who fell were trampled.
Finally, Alex couldn't take it anymore. He turned away from the glass window and buried his face in his hands.
"I'm going to make sure you get fired for this," Ben hissed in Alex's ear.
Alex didn't look up. "You don't have to. I quit."
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June 28, 2011
Book Review: Son of the Morning
One terrible evening, Grace St. John, an expert in ancient manuscripts, witnesses the murder of her husband and brother. From what she overhears, she's next — and it all has to do with the documents she's been translating.
Alone, afraid, and on the run, Grace has to use every ounce of cunning she didn't even know she possessed to keep ahead of those who want to kill her. Meanwhile, she continues to try to translate the manuscripts, which center around Black Niall, a Knight Templar from the early 14th century. She begins to dream about him — vivid dreams. Erotic dreams that make her feel as if she is betraying her husband.
This book was exciting, magical, and it far exceeded my expectations. Granted, my expectations of time travel romance are a bit low given how many 20th century American woman seem to have little trouble communicating with Medieval Scots. I guess some people are willing to overlook that, but I'm not one of them, and there's always this blaring voice in the back of my mind going — I don't think so!
But here, we have an expert in ancient languages. She know Latin, Hebrew, French, Old French, Old English, and a smattering of Gaelic — which is actually her weakest language. It is difficult to describe the relief I felt when I realized the heroine's specific expertise.
Beyond that, this was still a very good book. The romance is gradual, and it takes a long time for the hero and heroine to physically meet. Meanwhile, Grace is learning the truth behind an ancient conspiracy, hoping that somehow, the deaths of the two people she loved most will make some kind of sense. She also learns to fight. To take care of herself.
I highly recommend this to romance fans who like a bit of fantasy mixed in.
Rating: 4.5/5
Title: Son of the Morning
Author: Linda Howard
Genre: Time Travel Romance
ISBN: 067179938X
Publication Date: March 1, 1997
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June 24, 2011
R.I.P. Web Server
June 23, 2011
Dialog for the Minimalist Writer (3)
As a minimalist writer myself, I have always loved dialog. To me, the spoken word easily and quickly conveys information that could otherwise take many long, boring paragraphs to relate. As a young reader, I used to pay particular attention to exchanges of dialog, because I found they moved the story quickly and effortlessly.
When I grew up, I realized I had been minimalizing dialog as well, because it is, can be, and should be so much more.
First of all, dialog does move stories along quickly, relaying a lot of information in a short space. The trouble is that for the writer, at least, it's not effortless. Dialog is a powerful tool that can, with a few short words, convey information, bring characters to life, and move the plot. Every exchange of dialog should, in fact, add to characterization or forward the plot. Both is good.
It should also read like a normal conversation. This doesn't mean that we want to see endless stammers, nor does it mean you should hang apostrophes at the end of your -ing verbs. ("How's in hangin'?") We do these things, yes, but most of us do it subconsciously, and reading dialog that way can be distracting, unless there is a particular character trait you are trying to draw out.
A normal conversation does, however, include evasions, beating around the bush, playing off of each other's word choices, banter, jokes, asides, and most of all — nonverbals.
Something like 90% of communication is nonverbal. When you write a line of dialog, the surrounding narration isn't there to slow it down the pace, it's there to expound and clarify.
"Hi," Jake said.
What do you mean? Is jake happy to see you or sad? Angry? Is he shy? Did he whisper it or shout it?
"Hi." Jacke's face split into a wide grin.
"Hi." Jake kicked a rock on the ground, refusing to meet her eyes.
"Hi." Jake clenched his hands into fists, wondering if he could do anything to avoid a scene. He had hoped she wouldn't notice him.
As with everything else, it comes down to character. You are describing a section of dialog from a character's viewpoint. What does he think? How does he feel? What does he see and how does he interpret other character's non-verbal cues when they speak?
It's not enough to write down what they say. That gets you maybe 1/10 of the story.
Try this: The next time you have a conversation with someone, pay careful attention to what you hear and see. How much of your understanding of the conversation comes from the words? How much from facial expressions, gestures, and tone? Afterward, write down as much as you can remember of the conversation (exact wording is not necessary). Don't just write down what was said, but what you each did. You can share your interpretations of what the other person said, as well as the intentions behind what you said. (This is not something you need to share with that person, although if it is a close friend or family member, and you feel comfortable, you could show them what you wrote and ask whether you interpreted their responses accurately. You may be surprised what you find out.)
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June 21, 2011
The Joys of Quitting
It's been many months since I last talked about what I'm working on now. As of Friday, the answer is, "Nothing!" and strangely, I find myself really wanting to talk about that. Much more so, in fact, than the project I've been struggling with for the past four months, which should tell you something about how exciting I found that project.
We live in a society in which "Quitter!" is considered a great insult. And there's good reason for this, because any goal worth achieving takes hard word and dedication. The trouble is, sometimes quitting isn't about something being too hard — it's about being on the wrong path. Which tells me that we really need a new word, to describe the two distinctly different types of quitting.
I've been on the wrong path. About four or five months ago, I came up with a concept for a new novel that wasn't awful. It might have been easier if it were. I would even say that I would read the book, if someone else wrote it. I'm just not the one who should write it. At least, not now. My heart isn't in it.
So, I find myself in a strange situation. I am fully, completely, and unreservedly in between projects. I have no idea what I'm going to work on next. I have no set goals for next month. I don't know if I'll finish a book by the end of the year (which is what I hoped to do at the beginning of the year).
Oddly enough, I feel at peace. As of today, I began a new daily journal, which I'm calling my "Book of Mirrors." It's a stream of consciousness mess that I doubt I could even make sense of if I read it later on, but it's helping me examine my inner self.
I'm also working through "The Artist's Way" once again, skimming through the early weeks because they aren't particularly applicable to me right now.
The last idea that truly excited me, Cassie Scot, came to me while I was busy doing other things. I wasn't thinking about writing. Actually, I was on the floor playing with my baby. (Who is now 3!) Earlier this year, when I wanted to tackle a new project, I didn't let the winds of fate steer me. I did extensive brainstorming, each day trying to seek the next great idea.
Clearly, it didn't work. I have a working theory on why, too: Brainstorming is a highly internal process, unconnected to the world or the simple joy of living. True creativity, meanwhile, doesn't make something out of nothing — it makes something out of something. The raw elements are all around us, if we'll allow ourselves a moment to truly be a part of it all.
After that, creativity requires some faith. Not necessarily in religion, although that can help some people, but in the creative process, and in ourselves. It's a form of surrender…to God, to the universe, to life, and to possibility.
It's not easy, especially for someone like me, who always wants to be in control, but at the moment it feels right.
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June 20, 2011
Book Review: Scarlet Nights (Edilean #3)
Yay! My run of bad luck with Jude Deveraux is over! She was literally the first romance author I ever read, and over the years I have continued to love most of her stuff. Actually, the first book in this series was one of those I didn't care for, and I unknowingly skipped the second, but I'm glad I picked this one up! I'll be going back for #2.
The setup is fun (one of those that you willingly suspend disbelief for because hey, it's a fantasy): Mike, an undercover cop, is sent to Edilean to track down a con artist whose son is marrying a local. They don't know why the family has hit on this woman as a target, so Mike's mission, if he chooses to accept it, is to find out what Sarah has that could be so valuable and also to keep her from marrying her fiance by any means necessary. I mean, hey, the guy's going to kill her after the wedding, so seducing her really is for her own good. 
Sarah has been thoroughly played, and at the beginning of the story is at odds with most of the town, none of whom like her fiance. At first, I wasn't convinced that she would have fallen for the con, and even at the end, I had my doubts, but there were circumstances that made it basically work.
This was sweetly romantic, fun, and the mystery kept me guessing. I recommend to romance writers, especially Jude Deveraux fans.
Rating: 4/5
Title: Scarlet Nights
Author: Jude Deveraux
Genre: Romance
Published: August 3, 2010
ISBN: 1439107971
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June 15, 2011
It's Heeeeeeeeeeere!
I'm celebrating today! The Immortality Virus is now FULLY released. You can get it in paperback. You can get a kindle. You can get a nook book. It is, simply, here!
If you're a member of Goodreads, check out my author Q&A, which starts today.
Check out My Book Addiction where you can win an eBook copy of The Immortality Virus. PLUS, I have a guest post going up there which is, basically, The Immortality Virus bonus material — a prequel scene from Alexander Lacklin's point of view. (No spoilers, if you haven't read the book.)
The best ways to get the book:
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