Sarah Chorn's Blog, page 88

Special Needs in Strange Worlds – Interview with Jacqueline Koyanagi

The title says it all, folks.

Yesterday my interview with author Jacqueline Koyanagi went live. I absolutely loved interviewing her. She was so willing and ready to answer my harebrained questions (much appreciation for that). I learned a lot about her, and how she managed to make such realistically disabled characters in her book. I sincerely hope you check it out.

Click here.

 

Burning Paradise – Robert Charles Wilson

About the Book

Cassie Klyne, nineteen years old, lives in the United States in the year 2015—but it’s not our United States, and it’s not our 2015.

Cassie’s world has been at peace since the Great Armistice of 1918. There was no World War II, no Great Depression. Poverty is declining, prosperity is increasing everywhere; social instability is rare. But Cassie knows the world isn’t what it seems. Her parents were part of a group who gradually discovered the awful truth: that for decades—back to the dawn of radio communications—human progress has been interfered with, made more peaceful and benign, by an extraterrestrial entity. That by interfering with our communications, this entity has tweaked history in massive and subtle ways. That humanity is, for purposes unknown, being farmed.

Cassie’s parents were killed for this knowledge, along with most of the other members of their group. Since then, the survivors have scattered and gone into hiding. Cassie and her younger brother Thomas now live with her aunt Nerissa, who shares these dangerous secrets. Others live nearby. For eight years they have attempted to lead unexceptional lives in order to escape detection. The tactic has worked.

Until now. Because the killers are back. And they’re not human.

320 pages (hardcover)

Published on November 5, 2013

Published by Tor

Author’s webpage

This book was sent for me to review by the publisher.

—

Most SciFi fans will be familiar with the name Robert Charles Wilson, and most of those familiar with that name have read Spin, which was an incredible book. Wilson isn’t a new name to genre fans. In fact, he’s lauded as being one of the best contemporary SciFi authors still writing. That’s no small achievement. So, when a new book from Wilson drops in my mailbox, I start reading it right away. I also have very high expectations.

That high expectation is probably a problem here. The thing is, Burning Paradise is a really good book, but it’s not Spin good. In fact, I’m not sure how many things are as good as Spin (that book really did it for me). It’s kind of unfair to compare the two, but Wilson fans undoubtedly will, and they will probably come back from the comparison feeling a little disappointed with Burning Paradise. It isn’t that Burning Paradise is bad. It’s just not as good as Wilson’s best.

Burning Paradise takes place on an earth that is pretty similar to ours, but different enough to keep your interest peaked. A small group of people are aware of the manipulation of history through the Radiosphere, and things roll on from there. Slowly Wilson introduces readers to plenty of new and unique alien life forms, and their hypercolony. The slow (and sort of fast in some instances) introduction of these new (and very well done) elements, goes a long way toward making Burning Paradise one of those books that keeps you reading long into the night.

Burning Paradise has pretty much everything, which makes it a surprisingly diverse book for being as short (for SciFi) as it is. The characters span the range from a young kid to older adults. There are aliens, secret organizations, conspiracies, large scale manipulation, and even a bit of alternative history. There’s a lot hear to feast on, and even though this is quite different from Spin, Wilson does a great job at covering all his bases and keeping things real and moving quickly throughout.

A lot of the problem with Burning Paradise lies in a lack of subtlety and finesse that I so enjoyed in Spin. Spin isn’t necessarily a subtle novel, but the characterization, the details and nuances really do add a layer of depth to the book that made it shine. The characters in Burning Paradise are interesting, their dialogue and plight is well realized, but they fall flat somewhere along the way. They are almost three-dimensional, but not quite there. Perhaps the reason why I struggled with their believability is because under all the fantastically unique plot and world elements, this truly boils down to a sort of “chosen hero against all odds” kind of story, and I’m rather sick of those. Under it all, Burning Paradise really isn’t that mind blowing. The trappings and world are wonderful, but the bare elements don’t really do much for me.

That’s probably where the real crux of the issue lies. Burning Paradise really is an absorbing, well written, deftly crafted novel, but I never could get over the feeling that I wanted something more than what Wilson was giving me. This will scratch any fan’s itch for Wilson’s books. The writing is there and the plot is catchy. The problem is, when you really look at this novel as a whole, there isn’t much besides underneath the shiny trappings and eloquent prose. It’s a David and Goliath story, which is interesting, but far from unique.

Burning Paradise is well worth reading, but it really is a different animal than Spin. It stands well on its two legs, but there are disappointing elements about it. That being said, this is a Robert Charles Wilson book. Anything he writes is head and shoulders above what most people could dream of writing. He really is one of the great authors of our time. Understand that. This disappointed me in some respects, but it Robert Charles Wilson disappointed me, which means that it was still an absolute delight to read.

 

3/5 stars

Why I Love Speculative Fiction – Jodi McIsaac

About the Author

Jodi McIsaac is the author of The Thin Veil contemporary fantasy series, which is based on Celtic mythology. The second book in the series, INTO THE FIRE, was just released on November 12. Find out more at jodimcisaac.com.

Links:

Amazon

Website

Facebook

Twitter

Goodreads

—

Why I Love Speculative Fiction

Even though I’m now a fantasy author, I didn’t grow up reading speculative fiction. As a kid, my reading materials of choice included Archie Comics, Calvin & Hobbes, The Babysitters Club, and Sweet Valley High. I went to a small, ultra-conservative school that thought the only book worth reading was the King James Bible. I gave The Lord of the Rings a shot in high school, but couldn’t get past the first book. And then I was in university and grad school, where fiction took a back seat to rhetorical theory and international development studies.

Needless to say, I have now seen the light. Though I’m a relative newcomer to the world of speculative fiction, it has already had such a profound impact on me that it feels like it’s always been with me. At first, when I needed it most, it was my escape. And then it became my life.

When I was 23 years old, I lost a child, who I loved with a passion so fierce I often marveled that I didn’t burst into flame. After he was gone, it was a very dark, empty time of my life—and it happened to be right in the middle of when the Harry Potter books were being published. This was my salvation. I read one, and then the others, and then it became a ritual, when the pain grew too much to bear. I would go to the bookstore, buy a vanilla latte, and settle myself in the children’s section and read and re-read the first four books, anxiously waiting for the fifth (I couldn’t afford to buy them, and the bookstore was closer than the library). I could, for a few hours, escape the terrible reality of my own life, and live in a world where the impossible was possible, where there were magic solutions to real problems, and where hope won out over despair. During those first horrible years, fantasy was my anesthesia, my epidural, like drifting into a deep sleep and knowing that, for a few hours, the pain of the waking world will be held at bay. And I would always set down these books feeling a little more sane, a little more hopeful, like there was something to live for yet.

So that’s escape.

Shortly after this period, I gave The Lord of the Rings another try, wanting to read them before the movies came out. This time around, I was ready for them. I couldn’t get enough. I had finally found—and embraced—my identity as a genre geek, and it was one of the most affirming and liberating things I’d every experienced. Things only got better when I married another genre geek with the biggest personal library I’d ever seen.

It was several years later when I realized that my love for fantasy was no longer about escape. I had noticed a curious phenomenon—many of my well-educated, intelligent, successful 30-something girlfriends were also big fans of young adult fantasy, especially of the Twilight/Harry Potter/Hunger Games variety. My initial theory was that we were all leading incredibly dull lives from which we longed to get away. Most of us had left careers to be home with our children and were spending our days (and nights) changing diapers and doing laundry and being a human jungle gym and milk dispenser. Many of us were several years into our marriages, and the blush of first love had worn off and been replaced by tense discussions about mortgage payments and whose turn it was to do the dishes and mop the spit-up off the floor. Would anyone blame us for wanting to escape to a world where romance and adventure and freedom were written across every page?

But I realized this was not truly the case—not for me, anyway. However suburban my life had become, I was no longer looking for a drug to ease the pain of reality. I had healed—as much as one can—from my former trauma. What I now wanted was not to escape, but rather to live the most dynamic, rich, wonder-filled life possible. And for this, I needed inspiration. I no longer wanted to escape to a world of magic, I wanted to bring the magic into my own, everyday life. A subtle distinction, perhaps, but an important one.

And now, that is what I love most about speculative fiction—I feel as though I can reach into these books and pull out things that can enrich my own life; whether it be new ways of looking at the world, far more interesting ways of explaining why things are the way they are, new stories I can tell my children, and fascinating characters and worlds who really do become part of my life. And now my world is such a colorful, magical place, I wouldn’t escape from it even if I could.

Damn you, Chuck! (AKA: The Amazing Wendig)

Damn you, Chuck. The last thing I needed was another author addiction.

I like my fantasy the same way I like my tea, black, unsweetened, and deep. Chuck Wendig is one of the rare authors who seems to tap into that without any shame or apology. That’s probably why, despite the fact that I’ve only read two of his many books, I already count him among my favorite authors.

There is something appealing about an author who isn’t afraid to write truly dirty, broken characters in such a realistic way that you feel like you need to take a shower to clean yourself off after. While that might sound like an insult, it’s really not. How much magic is contained in the books that leave you reeling physically, spiritually, and emotionally after you turn the last page? And what kind of a magician does it take to write a book that powerful?

Perhaps I am waxing a bit ridiculously poetic about an author whose work I love because of the fact that it is dirty, written with a kind of grim art that I don’t get to wallow in, or appreciate enough. The thing about reading is that readers get to experience so many different lives, of numerous classes and qualities. Sometimes it feels good to live with the rich and wealthy for a time, and then sink down to the street rats, the broken and bitter characters like Miriam.

If you are familiar with Wendig at all, you’ll know that part of his charm is the fact that this man can say, “fuck” in more ways than anyone I’ve ever met, and all of these ways are hilarious and charming despite the fact that he is still saying “fuck” (full disclosure: I am one of those people that swearing doesn’t bother in the least). His books are the same way, laced with profanity and wry, incredibly dark humor, they will charm you no matter how hard you try not to be charmed. His descriptions, his style of prose, and his profanity all have a hard edge that so many books seem to shy away from. Wendig embraces it. Life is dark, dirty and cruel, and he’s not afraid to fill his book with that. Working along with this is Wendig’s lyrical, almost deceptively artistic prose that make beauty shine through some very unexpected places.

Miriam is a tortured, absolutely unique character. Her gift is a gift that has broken her, and if anyone really thinks about it, that’s a gift that would break and isolate anyone. His realism with Miriam, her inner struggles, and the barbed wire (in the form of dark, caustic humor) she has wrapped herself in is equal parts repellent and fascinating. Miriam is a true example of a powerhouse literary character that I will never forget, and I never want to let go of. Through Miriam, Wendig displays how profanity and dark themes can be incredibly compelling, artistic, and absorbing. You hate to love Miriam. She makes you look at things differently, a bit deeper, and makes the supernatural spin so many authors glorify and glamorize, seem so much more real. Miriam is real. Her situation is real, and Wendig is one hell of an author for his ability to bring her to life.

“She thinks, I want an orange soda. And I want vodka to mix into the orange soda. And while we’re at it, I’d also like to stop being able to see how people are going to bite it. Oh, and a pony. I definitely want a goddamn pony.”  – Blackbirds

So combine those past two paragraphs: the amazing characterization mixed with the profanity, dark humor, and absolutely breathtaking prose. You get some of the most deceptively powerful writing you’ll ever come across in the genre.

‘Miriam takes it and drinks. It’s a lush, bitey red. She’s not a wine fan. Everyone always says they can taste something in wine (chocolate, pipe smoke, figs, grass clippings, the sweat off a nine-year-old Cuban who’s been floating around the ocean for two weeks on a raft made of banana crates), but Miriam can only ever taste “angry grape.”’ – Mockingbird

Short sentences, but power resides in word choice and delivery, and that’s Wendig’s forte, that’s the art that he’s perfected with his writing. He manages to not only bring things to life, but he makes you look at them far differently than you’ve ever looked at them before. He’s not afraid to embrace the hard edges of life and he infuses his writing with emotion that spans the gamut from bliss to absolute depression and shocking personal torment. His books take readers on one hell of a ride.

“You grab the core essence of a true problem and swaddle it in the mad glittery ribbons of fantasy — and therein you find glorious new permutations of conflict. Reality expressed in mind-boggling ways. Reach for fantasy. Find the reality.”

Why do I think you should stop what you are doing right now and read a book by Chuck Wendig? It’s simple, really. Wendig is that rare storyteller that manages to not spin a yarn. He slips into your blood and brain as well. His characters, his world and become part of you. He’s dark, edgy, and his characters are fantastically broken (something I have a soft spot for). His delivery in the form of deceptively powerful prose, and some of the best characters I’ve ever read, just make him an even more incredible author. Further bonus: Wendig isn’t afraid of the dark, or gray areas. In fact, it seems like he embraces them.

I’ve only read two of his books so far, but Wendig writes so fast it’s like he as a computer in his head. I doubt I’ll run out of content anytime soon. Not only is he constantly churning out powerful novels, but he also writes on his website, Terrible Minds, just about daily. This is one of those authors that I am still discovering, but I’m doing it slowly. Wendig’s books are books I prefer to savor rather than devour.

Try one out. You’ll understand why.

New Feature | Celebrating Authors

I have spent two weeks sicker than a dog. I’m finally (after three doctor visits) getting over it (yay!) but all the downtime has given me a lot of time to think up ideas. One of my ideas I’m going to start on right away.

I love talking about books, but I’m also anxious to talk about the authors on my (ever growing) favorites list, and the reasons I enjoy them. Each week (hopefully) until I burn out or people stop caring, I will put up a post on a different author I enjoy, and I’ll tell you why I like their books so much.

Whether this column survives or takes a nosedive, I want to celebrate authors, as well as books. Hopefully this will go a long way toward doing that.

Stay tuned. My first article is about Chuck Wendig.

Between Two Thorns – Emma Newman

About the Book

Something is wrong in Aquae Sulis, Bath’s secret mirror city.



The new season is starting and the Master of Ceremonies is missing. Max, an Arbiter of the Split Worlds Treaty, is assigned with the task of finding him with no one to help but a dislocated soul and a mad sorcerer.

There is a witness but his memories have been bound by magical chains only the enemy can break. A rebellious woman trying to escape her family may prove to be the ally Max needs.

But can she be trusted? And why does she want to give up eternal youth and the life of privilege she’s been born into?

384 pages (paperback)

Published on February 26, 2013

Published by Angry Robot

Author’s webpage

This book was sent for me to review by the publisher.

—

Occasionally I will get a book for review, and I end up really enjoying it despite the fact that it has a handful of issues that should probably keep me from liking it. This is a rare occurrence, but when it does happen, usually it’s because the book charmed me enough for me to enjoy it despite its problems. Such is the case with Between Two Thorns by Emma Newman.

Between Two Thorns is charming for numerous reasons. Newmann keeps things fresh and alive by smashing together a lot of things that usually don’t successfully manage such smashing. For example, she meshes real world England with Regency style England. She also merges together fae, sorcerers, and humans nicely, and weaves a plot through it all that should keep many people entertained. On top of all of that, she doesn’t seem to drop the oh-so-sexy romantic interest in the middle of her book, which I was honestly expecting. It’s light, unique, fluffy, and fast paced. It ticks off a lot of boxes.

The problem really lies in the execution. The first problem the book encounters is that there are far too many perspectives for such a rather simple plotline. This can make the narrative feel clunky and it also slows down the pacing somewhat so it feels like events take too long to happen. The numerous perspectives just seemed to highlight how mundane the story really is – another story about a girl trying to break out of her gender-based social cocoon.

My real issue with Between Two Thorns was how campy much of it seemed, when coupled with the lack of any real historical presence, this campiness stopped being cute and started being annoying really fast. For example, the head honcho of Cathy’s family is named Poppy, who is accompanied by a fairy (complete with wings) and often says absurd things that make him look like a pretentious moron. Now, that’s probably exactly what Newman was going after, but it gets exhausting. If I can’t take these characters seriously, how are the people involved in the story supposed to?

Then, coupled with that is a lack of “history.” The world building is interesting, but there’s nothing that really grounds it. There are three separate but overlapping worlds – interesting concept, but poorly executed. The Regency version of Bath feels less like another world/dimension and more like a step back in time. Furthermore, unless I missed some big portions of information, readers never really learn why certain people live in the Regency world, and why people like Poppy live in the “prison” he lives in (and why is it a prison? And if it is a prison, as he refers to it, how can he leave it?). Why do they shun so many human inventions? Are they humans? The problem is, there are too many questions, and these are questions that are prompted by poor world building. I don’t like reading a 384 page book and feeling almost more confused when I leave it than I felt before I even started it.

All of these elements work together to make Between Two Thorns a book that had a lot of potential but tripped up along the way.  However, as I read it I realized that despite how frustrated some of these issues made me, I was still rather charmed by it. The plot is campy at best and some of the dialogue is laughable. Poppy was, perhaps, one of the most annoying characters for how absolutely unbelievably buffoonish he is. But despite all of that, I read this book and I enjoyed it. It’s light and fast, and you sort of have to turn your brain off while you read, but some of the ridiculous nature of it is why it is so charming.

It took me till the end of the book to realize that a lot of what annoyed me was things Newman purposefully wrote the way she did to poke fun at numerous tropes that tend to bother me in fiction. I wish the world had felt more believable, that a lot of the “whys” it raised in me were answered in the writing of it, and fewer perspectives would have worked better – but a lot of the culture and the over-the-top nonsense seemed to be deliberately placed in the text to make readers more aware of such nonsense. It’s a subtle poking-of-fun by the author, but it worked, and for that reason, I enjoyed this book despite myself.

Between Two Thorns was an interesting premise with a flawed execution. However, it’s a mark in the author’s favor that a book that seemed so flawed to me managed to hook me anyway. I probably missed the train early on, but at the end I realized that Between Two Thorns is less of a serious novel and more of a subtle, humorous exploration of numerous genre tropes. Once I realized that, I ended up thinking this was one hell of a clever book. It might not float everyone’s boat, but it is a lot of fun and despite its flaws, Between Two Thorns has the power to charm.

 

3/5 stars

Hell Bent – Devon Monk

About the Book

Instead of the deadly force it once was, magic is now a useless novelty. But not for Shame Flynn and Terric Conley, “breakers” who have the gift for reverting magic back to its full-throttle power. In the magic-dense city of Portland, Oregon, keeping a low profile means keeping their gifts quiet. After three years of dealing with disgruntled magic users, Shame and Terric have had enough of politics, petty magic, and, frankly, each other. It’s time to call it quits.

When the government discovers the breakers’ secret—and its potential as a weapon—Shame and Terric suddenly become wanted men, the only ones who can stop the deadly gift from landing in the wrong hands. If only a pair of those wrong hands didn’t belong to a drop-dead-gorgeous assassin Shame is falling for as if it were the end of the world. And if he gets too close to her, it very well could be.

368 pages (paperback)

Published on November 5, 2013

Published by Roc

Author’s webpage

This book was sent for me to review by the publisher.

—

This is the first Devon Monk book I’ve ever read. After some digging, I discovered that the main characters in this series, Shame and Terric, were introduced as backburner characters in another book/series that Monk wrote. Never fear, you obviously don’t have to have read those other books to enjoy Hell Bent. I didn’t have a clue who the author or her characters were, and I still had a lot of fun. That being said, I’m sure if I’d read other books by this author (as they are set in the same world) I would probably understand some of the nuances more clearly. For example, I never really did figure out the ins and outs of the magic system, or why some people are able to “break” magic and make it more powerful, but most can’t. Maybe if I’d read Monk’s Allie Beckstrom series, I’d get it.

As I said above, Hell Bent follows Shame Flynn, a transplanted Irish guy who can control death magic and has basically isolated himself from the world due to that. He has a drinking problem, and an issue with being an asshole to everyone on the planet to keep them away. His partner in crime, and his magical equal and balance, the yin to Shame’s yang, is Terric, a man who controls life magic. Shame is the lead character in the book, but Terric isn’t that far behind. A few other “breakers” enter the book; all of whom I gather was characters in Monk’s other series. At best these characters seemed rather unimportant to me, at worst they seemed, well, unimportant.

Shame and Terric take the limelight, and that’s a good thing because the rest of the cast and crew are pale comparisons to their well-fleshed-out individuality. They balance each other well, and their issues and behavior patterns are perfect reflections of how most people would act and react when saddled with the magic that these two men control. Shame’s caustic humor adds a nice levity to the situations he finds himself in, and Terric’s bleeding heart gives the duo a soulful, emotional feel that they would have otherwise been lacking.

The magic itself was a mixed bag for me, and I’m not sure if I’m the best person to judge it. As I said above, this series is set in the same world as another of Monk’s series, the Allie Beckstrom series, which I didn’t know until after I read the books. Therefore, I’m pretty sure that some of the back characters that were rather forgettable to me would probably be a lot more impressive and memorable to fans of that other series. I’m also sure that some of my questions regarding the magic system and what exactly happened/why it happened would have been answered if I had read that other series. As it was, while the magic was interesting and well done, a lot of the history and the whys behind it all didn’t ever really get described or make sense to me. What exactly happened that made magic so powerless? Why are some people “breakers” who can work together to make magic as powerful as it once was? Why do people want these breakers dead? Who knows. The questions are posed, but for new readers of the series, you might find yourself wanting answers more than anything else.

My complaints regarding the nuances of the magic system aside, the magic system itself was probably one of the things that I enjoyed about the book more than anything other, aside from Shame, who ended up being a riot to read about. Shame and Terric are both, in a sense, trapped by the magic they can control. It has warped their lives and twisted them into a vessel instead of men, in some cases. Shame has a hard time entering the world and functioning like a normal person, as he is always craving life to feed off of, and Terric has a hard time saying no to people when he could use his life magic to help. While this might not seem like a big deal, I really enjoyed reading how their own individual struggles have shaped these two men and Monk really portrayed them well in this respect. The characters themselves just make the magic even more interesting.

There is a little bit of romance in Hell Bent, but it’s nothing that will make you roll your eyes or quietly throw up into the nearest trash can. There’s some sexual tension and you can kind of smell the love interest as soon as she enters the book, but Monk decides that subtlety works better than anything else. This is Shame and Terric’s book, and the love interest, while being a nice aside, really never amounts to more than that. I really appreciated this. So many times in urban fantasy authors take a really interesting book and then derail it as soon as romance is announced but Monk never did this. Things happen in their own natural time and then things move on and the book never strays from its original purpose.

The plot itself is rather stereotypical. There’s a big faceless evil and a few people have to stand against it. In the process, some betrayals and backbiting is slipped in. Add the love interest and you have a sort of mystery/adventure stew that you’ve probably read about plenty of times before. Hell Bent is incredibly fast paced, but the more I read of it, the more I realized that I wasn’t really reading it for the plot. I was reading it because Shame and Terric were fascinating. I loved their struggles with magic, and I loved the magic (even though I never really understood it). The world was dark, a little too narrow of a focus for my liking, but rife with history that I ended up wanting to know more about. There’s a lot here that kept me turning the pages.

Hell Bent surprised me in the fact that it is a lot darker than I expected. Shame’s caustic humor never really added levity to the plot, instead it added a bit of humor at the price of the character’s self-respect. Sheme is a rather tortured soul, and the book is filled with his inner torment. It just shows what Monk does best – atmosphere and characterization. Often she works these two important elements together to create unforgettable moments in her book. It’s dark and I couldn’t seem to get enough. The book ends on a determined, if properly somber note, with just enough left open to allow Monk to write a slam-dunk next book in this series.

So, the final verdict? I know absolutely nothing about Devon Monk, but I’d love to read more. Hell Bent is character driven, focused, and fast. The magic is interesting, the protagonists are incredibly well done, the world is layered and full of texture. The atmosphere adds a nice, irresistible layer of darkness over it all. In the end, this wasn’t what I expected it to be, and I loved it for that. Hell Bent has me anxiously waiting to read the next book in this series. Hell, I might even have to read more of Monk’s books. Time to hit up the library.

 

4/5 stars

Urban Fantasy Covers – Time to Move On?

I’m pretty sure I’m a sexist.

I’m totally unfamiliar with Devon Monk, and I knew absolutely nothing about the author until I finished Hell Bent. You know why I read this book in the first place? Because I mentally associated the name “Devon” with a male, and the lack of a midriff-showing woman welding some sword on the cover seemed to back up my hypothesis. I saw this book, and my mind said, “Hey, UF written by a man! I bet I’ll like it!” So I read it.

Yeah, I’m a pig.

I say this because I think sometimes it is important to admit when we are. You see, I have this thing about urban fantasy written by women. I tend to try to avoid it. However, when I really boil down my avoidance, I realize that it’s really not the author’s fault I avoid most of the genre. In fact, some of my favorite urban fantasy is written by women (Stina Leicht, anyone?).

It’s not the female author’s faults. Their covers are tramped up, and the tramping up of covers really turns me off to the genre in general. I can’t take them seriously because no one looks like that, and no one walks around in a tight leather outfit with a katana on a Friday night for the hell of it. No one. Not. One. Person. That being said, it’s interesting how different my mindset is about urban fantasy in general when I’m pretty sure a man has written it, or when the cover doesn’t include our midriff baring heroine.

The truth of the matter is, when I look past covers and read the books in the genre themselves, I find that I enjoy more of them than I like to admit. Urban fantasy is a fun, quick paced genre full of books that don’t break your door down when the mailman delivers them. It’s fun to read about fantasy in our reality. I enjoy the imagination it takes to create a new world out of our own. These books are often emotional and intense in a lighthearted sort of way. They aren’t bad, but they are different. I will always prefer meatier SFF, but UF has its place, and no matter how much I talk about how little I enjoy the genre, I really do like it more than I ever really think.

My experience with Hell Bent proved how incredibly off base all of my misconceptions regarding urban fantasy really are. When I really analyze it, I wonder if the issue really lies with marketing rather than my own personal distaste for scantily clad women holding weapons and looking like badasses. Yeah, those tropes bother me, but the fact of the matter is I’ve read more UF that has been fun and entertaining than UF that I’ve hated. Tropes aren’t just stuck in one genre. I get sick of pointy eared elves, and old guys with long beards that know all the answers to the universe but happen to talk in riddles and die at inconvenient moments, too. And before I continue, I realize that my own mental issues are just that, my own. I don’t have to drink the Kool-Aid, but sometimes I do, and I’m responsible for my own Kool-Aid drinking habits.

The thing about urban fantasy that almost always turns me off is the covers, and I can’t control cover art. After talking to numerous authors about this topic, it seems like most authors don’t control cover art, either. A few urban fantasy authors that I contacted covertly, and will keep anonymous, even told me that their scantily clad cover art was such an issue for them they were in tears when they saw it, but publishers refused to change it. Is this common? I don’t know. But I do think that a huge reason I don’t like to admit that I read urban fantasy, or the fact that I’m so surprised when I enjoy urban fantasy, is because these sexed up covers are remnants from a bygone era. They sell. If they didn’t sell, publishers wouldn’t put them on books, but the truth remains, they are a turn off to a large number of readers.

I’m not exactly sure why these covers are so popular. They must be easy to make. They are so plentiful, all artists really need to do is change up the model and the weapon and BAM – new cover. But I wonder how much these covers are affecting sales. They appeal to a small group of readers, namely women. I don’t really know of any male readers who voluntarily go to the bookstore or library and pick up many books with covers that I’m talking about.

On the flip side, most of the urban fantasy I’ve read has been recommended to me by men who read the genre, most of whom read urban fantasy on Kindles or at home. The problem is, these covers are turning a subgenre that is a lot of fun and has some powerhouse authors in it, into a tropey looking mess. Many of these urban fantasy books are absolutely fantastic, but a vast majority of people who would enjoy them will probably never pick them up because of the cover art. That’s not fair to the authors or the readers. I don’t really understand why, or when this subgenre became pigeonholed, but maybe it’s time to move past that and see if we can think of some cover art for the genre that doesn’t make people walk away really fast.

And how exactly do these covers paint women? I get the fact that we all like to read books about strong heroines and feel like we are the heroines. It is empowering. But most strong women I know aren’t scantily clad, and they don’t have lower back tattoos or walk around with huge swords. I don’t enjoy reading books with covers that make me feel like I need to pick up an eating disorder, too. You don’t have to wear size zero pants, have tattoos and know how to weld a sword to be strong. It’s fun to imagine, but most of the strongest women I know fit into every size of pants but zero, and they know how to weld a cell phone, pen, diaper bag, etc. rather than a sword. I don’t think I’ve ever met one person, male or female, who wears leather pants on a daily basis. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that these covers make me a little uncomfortable with how women in the genre are being portrayed, and I’m even more disturbed by how these covers are eaten up by the market, but that’s a diatribe for another day.

The truth is that most of the books I read in this genre have characters that are far more down to earth and believable than what their covers portray. So why on earth are the covers so sexed up and off-putting, and just how dramatically do you think the readership in the genre would change if more covers were in the same vein as Hell Bent – down to earth with a realistic portrayal of a situation or scene and characters that look believable.

Getting excited about Hell Bent because I thought it was written by a man, largely due to the cover art, was not only disgusting, but absolutely wrong. Devon Monk is a woman. The common sexed up urban fantasy marketing, and the common covers only exacerbate tired stereotypes, and even helps stereotypes form. I am one of those victims who have fallen prey to the cover art (I drank the Kool-Aid, and that’s my own stupid problem). The genre is pumped full of goodness and plenty of books to explore, so why not get rid of these covers, expand our horizons a bit, and appeal to wider, more diverse, readership in the process?

Dear publishers: Isn’t it time to move on?

The Golden City – J. Kathleen Cheney

About the Book

For two years, Oriana Paredes has been a spy among the social elite of the Golden City, reporting back to her people, the sereia, sea folk banned from the city’s shores….

When her employer and only confidante decides to elope, Oriana agrees to accompany her to Paris. But before they can depart, the two women are abducted and left to drown. Trapped beneath the waves, Oriana’s heritage allows her to survive while she is forced to watch her only friend die.

Vowing vengeance, Oriana crosses paths with Duilio Ferreira—a police consultant who has been investigating the disappearance of a string of servants from the city’s wealthiest homes. Duilio also has a secret: He is a seer and his gifts have led him to Oriana.

Bound by their secrets, not trusting each other completely yet having no choice but to work together, Oriana and Duilio must expose a twisted plot of magic so dark that it could cause the very fabric of history to come undone….

384 pages (paperback)

Published on: November 5, 2013

Published by Roc Trade

Author’s webpage

This book was sent for my review by the publisher.

—

I’m on some sort of weird alternative history kick right now. Any alternative history books that come into my house are read almost instantly. This one flowed into my house while I was out of town. I saw the cover, and that it was set in Portugal (seriously, how many books have you read in Portugal?) and that pretty much sealed the deal. Game over. Book read.

The Golden City isn’t some man-meets-woman romance set in a historical period, though you might expect something along those lines from the cover. While romantic tension does grow throughout the book, the romance always stays subtle and on the back burner, giving way to an actual plot (Thank you, Cheney.). Another difference that readers might note right away is how much darker this is than what you’d probably expect. The book starts out with a murder. It’s not hinted at or discovered, it’s witnessed, and the person who dies is someone the protagonist Oriana cares about.

Oriana is an interesting protagonist in the fact that she’s rather deep and fleshed out. She’s also unique in the fact that she’s sereia (read: selkie), all of whom are banned from Portugal. There are other water creatures peppered throughout the book, and they aren’t some secret hidden from society. No, the world knows that they exist, so the plot doesn’t get derailed with any, “I had no idea the world was this damn weird” moments while characters struggle with their new reality. Oriana, however, is trained to be a spy for her people. She has integrated herself into high society, but the murder at the start of the book really derails all of her plans. She sets out to discover the who and the why behind it all, and that’s really where your book starts. Along for the ride is Duilio, who is a weak seer, and a nice character balance for the book.

The plot is basically what you’d expect it to be. There is a murder, a huge conspiracy, things are uncovered that are uncomfortable. The breadth and scope are far larger than you’d expect them to be. Perhaps where all of this is unique is the methods that Cheney uses to drive her plot forward. It isn’t just a murder, but a weird artistic display in a river. There isn’t just one dead body, but a whole lot more than that. They aren’t dead because it’s fun to kill people, there’s a really sinister reason behind it all. It really is quite unique when you pay attention to all the details. Despite how tried-and-true all the basics are, the plot itself is rather enthralling.

The characters are interesting in their own ways, more for what they are rather than who they are. For example, Oriana is a sereia, which is a type of creature I really haven’t read much about sereia and what I have read is pretty tropey. Cheney really does away with all the typical boxes a sereia would get shoved into. She goes into the details of what makes Oriana what she is. Oriana has gills, which hurt. She has to wear odd mitts so people won’t see her webbed fingers (which sense vibrations), and thus, the government won’t know what she is. She has dorsal fins. Her eyes are wide, large, and made to see more in dark areas (like under water). It’s interesting. Oriana isn’t just some mythical creature, under Cheney’s development, she’s flesh and blood and her nuances give her an interesting set of challenges she has to learn to work around to blend into society.

While Oriana is an admitted spy, I was never really sure what the point of her spying was. A reason was given early on in the book. She has a handler. Her situation is uncomfortable for numerous reasons, but despite the one line reason readers are given for her being a spy, I never really felt that was a necessary plot thread. Oriana didn’t need to be a spy, it just adds another layer of complexities to her. There really isn’t any point to her spying, and she never really accomplishes anything for her people by doing it. It’s mentioned several times throughout the book, but I never really understood why it was so important other than bluntly driving the plot in several directions.

On the flip side, Duilio was a character that was a lot harder for me to buy into. He’s a seer, but a weak one. He can ask himself specific questions and his gift will give him a yes or no answer. This isn’t a huge problem, but as the case went on and they started learning more about what is happening, I couldn’t help myself but wonder why Duilio didn’t just close himself in a room and ask “Did (person’s name) kill (other person’s name)?” until he got an answer. However, that aside, he has his own unique qualities in the fact that he is looking for something precious that was stolen from his mother that could easily be hung over his family’s head and get them in a lot of painful trouble. He has fewer details than Oriana, and fewer nuances, and probably because of that, he seemed less interesting to me, and less believable.

As I said above, there is romance in this book, but it really develops slowly and naturally, though most readers will predict where the tension will lie. This is perhaps one of the very few books where I haven’t minded the romance budding, or the tension. Like I said, it is natural. It feels right, and Cheney understand that you don’t need to fill your book with soft porn and panting noises to make something sweet and memorable.

My last tiny complaint that I really shouldn’t voice because there’s no real point? There aren’t many books I’ve read set in such a specific time period in Portugal. In fact, this is probably the only one. I really wish the city, the culture of Portugal had been more vibrant and alive. The world is there, and it is interesting, but most of what readers learn is about politics. I never really felt like the city came to life, and in such a unique place, I would have loved it to become another character. That being said, the ending promises and expanded world and an even more unique setting in books to come. While the world building left a little to be desired here, Cheney did enough to make me beyond excited to see what she can create next.

There seem like there are a lot of things I pick on in this book, and there are. It’s not perfect. It’s a far stretch from it. However, it is unique. It is memorable. I absolutely devoured The Golden City in two days flat because I couldn’t stop thinking about it. The plot is fairly standard. The characters have their own set of positives and negatives, but it’s the world, the setting, the cultures and the incredible amount of details and unique takes on old tropes really makes this book shine. I honestly cannot wait to read what Cheney writes next.

 

4/5 stars

Beyond the Tempest Gate – Jeff Suwak

About the Book

From the time he was a young boy, Gabriel Aterias knew he was destined to rise from the peasantry and become the Holy Knight of the Church of Dunrabian. By the time he was twenty four years old, he had already led the Church’s armies to greater victories than any other man in history. Yet, his greatest feat still lay ahead of him.

Beyond the elemental barrier of the Tempest Gate lurks the demon Elezear. An evil older than the world itself, it nearly eradicated the human race once before. For five hundred years, the people of the Five Kingdoms have slept uneasily, praying that the creature would not escape the walls of storm that confined it.

Gabriel vows to destroy the demon. His quest will take him far beyond the borders of civilization, across the ocean, and into unimaginable darkness. What he will soon discover is that the greatest danger in his quest to save the world may very well be the loss of his own soul.

78 pages

Published on August 26, 2013

Published by Vabella Publishing

Author’s webpage

This book was sent for me to review.

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Here’s a secret: I don’t like novellas. In fact, I try really hard to never read them. It’s not because they suck. In general I tend to enjoy them. It’s because the damn things aren’t long enough. I like my books to be meaty and big enough to break down my front door when the UPS guy comes to the house (again). Novellas…. They just don’t do that. They are light and fluffy. They don’t break down my door, but just barely manage to stir up a gentle breeze in the air when they fly past my head. The thing is, I like to really get into the books I read. By the time I get into a novella (or short story), it’s already over. Then you have an angry bookworm because she wants more and there isn’t any. It’s bad, I tell you. Not just bad, but tragic.

Then, occasionally, someone will contact me about a novella and I’ll break my rules and read it. Such is the case for Beyond the Tempest Gate.

Beyond the Tempest Gate is roughly 70 pages long, which isn’t that long. You can probably read the whole thing in a few hours. The difference between this novella and so many others is that Suwak isn’t just telling a story; he’s playing with some really interesting themes. This could have easily turned into a novel, but Suwak manages to pack a powerful punch with his method of grabbing the story by the horns and really pulling the reader along with him as he wrestles it to its conclusion.

On the surface, and at the start, this might seem like so many other epic fantasy stories told about a young man with large dreams and a prophecy that very much follows the standard hero’s journey. And on the surface it is exactly that (and that will probably frustrate some readers, regardless of how tantalizing the deeper themes are). The main ideas aren’t really that new. It’s the subtleties and the underlying tones that are what is new. You see, Gabriel isn’t just a young man thrust into a role the prophecy has given him; he’s a young man who read about a prophecy and decided he was going to fulfill it. There’s a huge difference there, and that is also where Suwak really hooked me.

If you are any great follower of this website, you’ll know that I enjoy my books with a fun plot and full of deeper, more ponderous themes, and that’s exactly what you get here. What makes it all even more incredible is how Suwak manages to play with these weighty themes despite the short length. Bravo, sir. At the heart, Suwak really plays with identity. Gabriel thrusts himself into a role, and will stop at nothing to achieve it. In all reality, it wasn’t a mandatory decision. He didn’t need to take the prophecy onto his shoulders, but he had dreams of being a hero and so he did it. That choice became his identity. So how much of who we are is a result of the decisions we make, and the actions we take? That might not sound like much, but it is rather fascinating, especially with Suwak’s unique vision.

In truth, I’m almost afraid to say my interpretation of the plot (like I just did) because I could be totally wrong. I am a huge sucker for novels like that – where you interpret it one way fully knowing that everyone else who reads it might interpret it many other ways.

Another bright spot of Beyond the Tempest Gate is Suwak’s prose. His writing is descriptive, and just boarders on the too-much-description line occasionally, while never really crossing over it. The fact of the matter is, he makes his world come to live, and infuses the struggle of his characters with emotions that will scar the readers. Perhaps the only drawback was that some of the characters felt a little too typecast, and I longed for them to be a little more unpredictable and surprising. That being said, I’m not really sure how picky I can be because this is a novella, not a novel. Suwak didn’t have as much time to create epic characters, as he would have if he had written a novel. However, his writing, his ability to bring the world to life and raise uncomfortable questions in the reader in such a short amount of time really says something for the author. He has some very real potential, and I cannot wait to see what he can create with a full-length novel and some nice wiggle room.

 

4/5 stars