Sarah Chorn's Blog, page 99

The White Forest – Adam McOmber

About the Book

Young Jane Silverlake lives with her father in a crumbling family estate on the edge of Hampstead Heath. Jane has a secret—an unexplainable gift that allows her to see the souls of man-made objects—and this talent isolates her from the outside world. Her greatest joy is wandering the wild heath with her neighbors, Madeline and Nathan.

But as the friends come of age, their idyll is shattered by the feelings both girls develop for Nathan, and by Nathan’s interest in a cult led by Ariston Day, a charismatic mystic popular with London’s elite. Day encourages his followers to explore dream manipulation with the goal of discovering a strange hidden world, a place he calls the Empyrean.

A year later, Nathan has vanished, and the famed Inspector Vidocq arrives in London to untangle the events that led up to Nathan’s disappearance. As a sinister truth emerges, Jane realizes she must discover the origins of her talent, and use it to find Nathan herself, before it’s too late.

303 pages

Published on September 11, 2012

Author’s webpage

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

Disclaimer: The cover of the book I received is different than the cover displayed here. I’m assuming it’s because I have the paperback US release and all that’s on Goodreads is the original UK covers. I could be wrong, though. Anyway, when I’m less tired, I’ll track down a picture of my cover and fix this post accordingly.

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When I was asked if I’d be willing to review The White Forest I jumped on it. It looked right up my alley – a weird, haunting, historical fantasy tale set in a realistic Victorian England. Yes, please.

The White Forest is, as I said, set in a Victorian England. However, instead of this time period seeming cheesy, as Victorian set books often do, McOmber infuses his Victorian era with an eerie, believable and dingy quality that really sinks into the readers bones. Before I say anything else about this book, I must make it absolutely clear that McOmber knows how to work his atmosphere for the story’s benefit. It is less of a setting and more of a powerful storytelling tool that he welds. The time and place almost become a character in their own right and before you realize it, you can feel the damp, dark and falling apart places in your bones. It’s quite a skill McOmber has to infuse his book with such vibrant and living atmosphere.

The White Forest starts out mundane enough, centering on a group of three friends, one of whom disappears. McOmber plays up the interesting dynamics of their friendship, like jealousy and the like, which really make their relationships seem less than genuine. That’s the first real point where McOmber strays from the typical. The rift in the friendship is rather subtle, but that subtlety allows an impressive amount of tension to build up. One thing feeds another, and with an already vibrant and impressive atmosphere, the book quickly turns from a mundane Victorian story to something completely different without readers really even realizing it. Quickly the novel moves into dark fantasy territory, and so subtly the reader probably won’t realize it happening.

The truth is, this is a pretty slow moving novel. There are a lot of points at the start where Jane is remembering various aspects of her life leading up to the point of Nathan’s disappearance and her understanding of her unique abilities. These reflections are necessary for the text, but it keeps things slow moving. Honestly, with a Victorian era book, I expect slow moving. Thankfully, McOmber fills the novel with enough mystery and interest points to keep readers going despite the occasionally plodding pace. For example, the slow pace allows readers to really get to know the characters, and not just by their actions and thoughts, but also because each character is so incredibly deeply flawed. Jane herself is guilty of treating some people like absolute dirt and enjoying it. Nathan is so obsessed with his research; you can’t help but wonder just where he was going with it all, and where he went.

Jane is a fascinating character. Her understanding of her abilities and the White Forest and all it means is slowly revealed as the book progresses. She’s incredibly flawed, as I mentioned above. The slow revelations and the various points of understanding the reader will face in regards to Jane is enough to keep them going through the slow parts. Jane’s abilities are interesting, as are their impact on the events that transpire. Nathan’s own disappearance is rather fascinating as well, as are the details involving the cult that he was involved in. Life slowly unfolds around the three friends and their interesting friendship dynamics have a light shined on them. Their friendship has a fingernails on a chalkboard feel to it because it’s so incredibly… odd. These are all things that the reader will pick up on that otherwise might have been missed if the plot had been fast moving and full of action. So yes, the plot has a rather plodding feel to it, but that plodding feel ends up being a benefit to the story as a whole.

As I said above, each aspect of the novel seems to feed other aspects of it. The intense and dark atmosphere are a wonderful foundation on which McOmber adds a powerfully dysfunctional friendship, deeply flawed characters, and the obvious mystery of what happened to Nathan. That being said, if you haven’t already been able to tell, the atmosphere and various character and relationship dynamics interested me more than Nathan’s disappearance. While his part of the story is, obviously, interesting, it’s these more subtle qualities that McOmber touches on that are truly captivating and it’s those subtle qualities that will impress the reader more than anything else. It’s absolutely interesting to see how the author can manage to infuse such an almost standard tale with so many dark, intense and atmospheric qualities. McOmber is a master of manipulation.

The White Forest is a unique novel. It works on many different levels. It’s slow moving and subtle, so readers looking for in-your-face and fast paced will probably be disappointed. McOmber creates a dynamic atmosphere that infuses the reader with an undeniable sense of place and time. Coupled with deeply flawed characters and almost unnatural relationships, this novel might appear to be a Jane Austin-esque on the surface, but it crosses the line into gothic fantasy easily and willingly without the reader ever really realizing its happening. Finished off with McOmber’s smooth, flowing and absorbing prose, this is one of those books that will appeal to readers looking for something completely different, very atmospheric, and incredibly subtle.

 

4/5 stars

The Crown Tower – Michael J. Sullivan

About the Book

TWO MEN WHO HATE EACH OTHER. ONE IMPOSSIBLE MISSION. A LEGEND IN THE MAKING.



A warrior with nothing to fight for is paired with a thieving assassin with nothing to lose. Together they must steal a treasure that no one can reach. The Crown Tower is the impregnable remains of the grandest fortress ever built and home to the realm’s most valuable possessions. But it isn’t gold or jewels the old wizard is after, and this prize can only be obtained by the combined talents of two remarkable men. Now if Arcadias can just keep Hadrian and Royce from killing each other, they just might succeed.

The Riyria Revelations and The Riyria Chronicles are two separate, but related series, and you can start reading with either Theft of Swords(publication order) or The Crown Tower (chronological order).

416 pages (paperback)

Publishing on August 6, 2013

Published by Orbit

Author’s webpage

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

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I’m not a huge fan of spinoff series. In fact, I am so not a fan of them that I tend to avoid them like a plague. So even I was surprised when I ended up reading The Crown Tower by Michael J. Sullivan. However, I did read it, and I have to admit, I enjoyed it a hell of a lot more than I expected to (though to be fair, due to my lack of interest in spinoff series, I expected to hate this book. Sorry, I’m just being honest.)

That’s probably a good place for me to start my review. While The Crown Tower, and the book that follows it, The Rose and the Thorn, are both their own independent series, they feature all the characters readers grew to know and love in Riyria Revelations. These two books, however, are a prequel of sorts. Hadrian and Royce meet each other and start working together. Alongside them is the story of Gwen, the whore that frequents the Riyria Revelations books.

The banter between Royce and Hadrian takes some time to start up, which makes Gwen’s story the most powerful and interesting for the first half of the book or so, which is not what I expected. Once Hadrian and Royce meet up, their relationship stays rather brittle and cold until the adventures begin, which isn’t until past the halfway mark. This is, perhaps, where the biggest problem with the book lies. While fans of the Riyria Revelations series will be more than happy to stick out a rather slow start to read about how Hadrian and Royce come to be the infamous duo, people who are new to the series and the characters might have far less patience with that. It makes me wonder if this duology will appeal to new readers, or if it will mostly appeal to tried and true Sullivan fans.

That isn’t a bad thing, but it is something to be aware of. If I analyze this duology on its own, I’m not sure it can stand alone. I think it relies too heavily on Riyria Revelations to really entice new readers. Therefore, even though it is a prequel series, I would recommend you read Riyria Revelations first. That way, the “filling in the gaps” feel that The Crown Tower has will be far more entertaining.

In all fairness, that’s probably what I enjoyed about The Crown Tower the most. It does fill in a lot of gaps, which is why I wonder how much it will appeal to new readers. There were a lot of “ah ha!” moments where I realized that (insert character here) was the way he/she was in (insert Riyria Revelations book here) because of this event in The Crown Tower. That’s a lot of fun for me as a reader and it’s really an amazing accomplishment for Sullivan. He wrote a book that doesn’t really have a surprise ending but readers won’t really care. There are so many revelations and character building adventures that take place in this book that the predictability doesn’t matter. The Crown Tower is a fun adventure on its own, but for fans of Sullivan’s other series, it’s also an exercise in enlightenment. The Crown Tower adds a lot of depth and increases my understanding of his other series ten fold.

Anyway, back to Hadrian and Royce. Hadrian and Royce are both younger and a lot different than you know them to be in Riyria Revelations. Hadrian is almost unbelievably ignorant for a man who spent plenty of time in various armies and Royce is so shut down and turned off that he’s the darkness to Hadrian’s light. While they say opposites attract, Sullivan does a great job at showing just how opposite these individuals truly are, and how that can cause their personalities to clash in some pretty profound ways. That being said, once the action gets going, it’s interesting to see the grudging respect between the pair slowly form and turn into a new sort of relationship that neither of them have been privy to before. Sullivan really does a wonderful job at building up each character’s background, though Royce’s requires some infodumping as the man himself is incredibly closed off. It’s easy for readers to sympathize with both parties, and while Sullivan fans will know how the two men end up, he really keeps it interesting, with the right amount of tension and fun thrown in for good measure.

Gwen’s character was a big surprise to me, as she never really interested me much in the Riyria Revelations series. She’s an important person, but she’s more of an important background character in Sullivan’s other books. In The Crown Tower, Gwen really gets a life of her own. Sullivan spends a lot of time developing her background and the hardships of her life. In fact, he makes Gwen so here that she tends to steal the limelight at times. Furthermore, her role in The Crown Tower will make readers of Riyria Revelations really step back and appreciate her more due to their new understanding of who she is, and how she came to be that person.

I really need to tip my hat to Sullivan for managing to create an interesting spinoff series. That’s a hard task, and writing a prequel spinoff series must be even more difficult as Sullivan is kind of boxed in regarding the life and times of his characters. There had to be a lot of research done on his part to match up the small details in The Crown Tower with small, almost forgotten details in Riyria Revelations. That effort on Sullivan’s part really makes it shine. It’s those details that breath life into The Crown Tower, and will make it so incredibly engaging and interesting to Sullivan fans. Furthermore, fans already know how Hadrian, Royce and etc. end up, so Sullivan had to play to their expectations, but stay true to the tone of his popular Riyria Revelations series. Plus, he has to keep the story interesting and engaging. That’s a lot of pressure. He does all of that with finesse and grace. The Crown Tower is a swashbuckling adventure, but the depth and attention to detail really make it shine. This is sure to be a slam-dunk for Sullivan fans.

 

4/5 stars

Not A Review: Emperor of Thorns – Mark Lawrence

About the Book

The path to the throne is broken – only the broken may walk it.

***

To reach the throne requires that a man journey. Even a path paved with good intentions can lead to hell, and my intentions were never good.

The Hundred converge for Congression to politic upon the corpse of Empire, and while they talk the Dead King makes his move, and I make mine. The world is cracked, time has run through, leaving us clutching at the end days, the future so bright that those who see it are the first to burn. These are the days that have waited for us all our lives. These are my days. I will stand before the Hundred and they will listen. I will take the throne whoever seeks to thwart me, living or dead, and if I must be the last emperor then I will make of it such an ending.

This is where the wise man turns away. This is where the holy kneel and call on God. These are the last miles, my brothers. Don’t look to me to save you. Don’t think I will not spend you. Run if you have the wit. Pray if you have the soul. Stand your ground if courage is yours. But don’t follow me.

Follow me, and I will break your heart.

Published on August 1, 2013

Published by Ace

Author’s webpage

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

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I kind of hemmed and hawed over when to post this review. I usually wait until the publication date or after to post a review, but I’m so excited about this one I decided to break my own rule here. Hey, it’s July 29th and the book is set to be released on August 1st. That’s close enough, right?

Emperor of Thorns was, hands down, my most anticipated release of this year. When I got this book in the mail everything (yes, everything) stopped. I rarely came up for air. Now, you might be wondering why you care. Well, you really shouldn’t care, but I’m telling you my incredibly high level of anticipation for one very important reason. If you are expecting an unbiased review, you won’t get it here. I’m a huge fangirl and I won’t hide that. This is probably going to be less of a review and more of a foaming at the mouth about Lawrence’s epic genius.

You have been warned.

All right, now that I have my disclaimer out of the way, lets get onto the nitty-gritty stuff.

Emperor of Thorns is the last book in Lawrence’s Broken Empire trilogy. If you’re reading this book, I’m assuming you’ve already read the previous two (which you really need to do). I’m also assuming that you know the basic rundown of Jorg’s character and the various points of his life that impact who he is and the often brutal actions that he undertakes. I’m not going to rehash any of that. This is a review… erm… gushing fangirl soliloquy, not a summary, so I’m going to skip the “remember when this happened in book (number here)” parts and just dig in.

Emperor of Thorns is a true masterpiece in a lot of ways. First of all, the attention to detail that Lawrence shows is absolutely stunning, especially in regards to Jorg’s development. He’s not a teenager anymore. Now he’s twenty with a wife, prosperous kingdom and a kid on the way. Lawrence takes all of that into consideration. While Jorg is still the kill happy protagonist we all have grown to love, it’s less frenzied and more thoughtful than it was before. Jorg’s actions have a level of thought and adult depth behind them that he didn’t display in previous books. He’s lived a lot, and maturity has caught up to him. It’s actually quite incredible to see what a man he’s turned into. Lawrence has developed the adult Jorg with stunning realism. He truly leaps off the pages. He isn’t just a character in a book anymore. In Emperor of Thorns, Jorg is so incredibly real.

Going along with the maturity I mentioned above, the book itself has an interesting, almost memoir quality to it that other books in the series didn’t really have. A lot of the flashbacks and Jorg’s current adventures/journey feel very full circle. For example, in one of the flashbacks, Jorg runs across a group of bandits, one of whom is a young kid much like Jorg was at one time. It’s nearly impossible to read this part of the book and not realize that Jorg is seeing himself when he looks at that girl. These small, intimate moments pepper Emperor of Thorns and give Jorg a very intimate and personal quality that I never really felt before. He’s not just guts and glory. This Jorg is a man looking for answers to the riddle of his life, and Lawrence provides them in spades with these subtle but powerful moments and the insecurities of impending fatherhood that Jorg deals with.

As with all of his other books, Mark Lawrence has this sort of epic writing style that packs such a powerful punch with an amazingly few words. While this quality is obvious in his previous books, Lawrence really ups the ante here. There were so many points I had to put the book down so I could write certain quotes in a notebook so I’d never forget them. The prose is probably what puts this book over the top, for me. Jorg’s more thoughtful and pondering nature really allows Lawrence to explore just how eloquent he can be, while never losing touch of the dark tone of the novel. For example:

“Every man has his thorns, not of him, but in him, deep as bones. The scars of the briar mark me, a calligraphy of violence, a message of blood-writ, requiring a lifetime to translate.”

Furthermore, as with everything else in Emperor of Thorns, Lawrence circles back to symbolism that readers would have encountered earlier, making it an important, pivotal piece of the novel. The scenario that comes to mind is when Jorg talks to one of his companions about why leaves turn color in the fall. It’s a poignant moment that is rife with symbolism, but that symbolism isn’t really revealed until later in the novel, toward the end, when Jorg sees an autumn leaf and he truly realizes what he is. It’s just amazing that that one leaf can be so incredibly important on so many levels to the novel, and that Lawrence can use one conversation about halfway in the book to bring about a stunning, absolutely emotionally jarring conclusion later.

This is Jorg’s final adventures, and Lawrence doesn’t toy with that fact at all. It is the way it is, and the ring of finality that opens up the book sets an incredible tone that Lawrence carries throughout the rest of the novel. This allows him to be as introspective and symbolic as he is in Emperor of Thorns. It’s really an incredible way to write a book, and it translates well for the reader. There are no ifs or ands. This is the end, and the fact that it’s the end allows Lawrence some wiggle room that I don’t think he had in previous books and he uses it to infuse his novel with symbolism, poetic prose, and incredible character building.

Jorg isn’t the only person that grows and develops in Emperor of Thorns. His wife, Miana, is a delight to read about. She’s a tiny woman, but a true firecracker and the perfect companion for Jorg. Their relationship is interesting, and truly reflects how emotionally damaged Jorg has become from his rough life. Miana is a stalwart companion, and she has grown into her own woman, but she is a rather back seat character, which is fine. There really isn’t room in Emperor of Thorns for any other primary characters. Jorg takes up all the space, and readers will love him for it. That being said, the attention to detail I’ve mentioned over and over again isn’t overlooked with the secondary characters. They are all just as vibrant, believable, and interesting as Jorg himself.

The ending of the series is the only part that I think will be hit and miss for readers. While, in my mind, it’s absolutely perfect, some readers might think it’s a little too much of a left turn. Lawrence explains why he ends things the way he does, but even with the explanation, I had to put the book down and process it for a day or two before I decided if I liked the ending or not. Once I thought about it long enough, I realized that there really isn’t any other way to end a character as raw, brutal and abused as Jorg. Lawrence really did a good thing for his character, and it balances the narrative perfectly. The truth is, no matter how Lawrence ends this series, it’s going to piss people off. The ending could be perfect, and people will still hate it. My personal theory is that people will dislike the ending because it is an ending, rather than the form the ending takes. It’s really, really hard to part yourself from such an intense character as Jorg. It’s almost painful.

Perhaps that’s the last point I should touch on, as this not-a-review has gone on long enough. Emperor of Thorns is perfectly balanced. This is an incredibly dark and often disturbing series, and Lawrence keeps that going here. However, Emperor of Thorns balances that darkness with some incredible light. There’s a lot of hope, transition, growth, development, and introspection that goes on here. I felt like I was reading someone’s private journal through much of it, but that’s not a bad thing, because this journal is a lot more hopeful and bright than you’d expect. While there are still key Jorg carnage moments, they are balanced so perfectly with surprisingly powerful (and almost understated) bright moments, that they are less oppressive  than they might have seemed before. These instances (like the time Jorg realizes that he loves) actually will serve to give readers a much more well-rounded, unique and insightful perspective into a character that has started epic fandom fawning like this. I so wish I could go on and on about this point, because I could. The truth is, if I say anything more than I’ve already said I’ll be giving up far too many spoilers and it will ruin your fun. This balance of light and dark is so well done, so intimate, so absorbing, so riveting, that it’s probably the part of the book, aside from the stunning prose, that really moved me the most.

Honestly, I don’t even know how to end this review. I could sum up the main points I’m making neatly, but I don’t even really know if I’ve made any points here. Emperor of Thorns is just amazing. There’s nothing else to say. Lawrence has crafted a book that’s less book and more art form than anything I’ve read in a long, long time. It’s full of symbolism and some absolutely stunning prose that I’m sure will inspire artwork. It is probably one of the most intensely personal books I’ve ever read. Jorg isn’t just a character, Emperor of Thorns graduates him from an interesting, dark protagonist to part of yourself. You can’t read this book and remain detached. No matter what you take away from it, you’ll find yourself in some of these pages. That might be uncomfortable or surprising at times, but it is truly amazing. Lawrence isn’t afraid to put himself out there and in so doing, he will manage to move everyone who reads this book. I’m sure of it.

That’s, perhaps, the greatest thing I could ever say for a book. Emperor of Thorns isn’t just a book or a character study, it’s an examination into the darkest and lightest parts of the human psyche. Lawrence works his magic with grand mastery. It won’t let you go.

Read this book.

 

143 stars/5

Thinking Through Type | Unique Magic Systems

I’ve recently started to ask a Bookworm Question of the Day on my Facebook and Twitter. Sometimes these questions die as soon as I ask them, and other times I get tons of interaction and lots of great discussion. Today was one of those days where lots of people participated. Due to the level of participation and all the, “This is great!” comments I got, I decided to turn it into a blog post. That way, people can continue to suggest and discuss and I don’t have to keep track of my Twitter feed and a two-year-old at the same time (very hard to do).

Feel free to pipe in with any comments. I’d love to keep this going, as it’s making my To Be Read (TBR) list EXPLODE.

Question: 

What book has a unique magic system and why? Rule: Do not suggest Mistborn by Brandon Sanderson. Everyone will suggest those books. 

Answers:

Daughter of Smoke and Bone – Laini Taylor: Wishes are a currency with denominations.

Libriomancer –  Jim C. Hines: The guy can summon objects from a printed book with some restrictions.

Spellwrite – Blake Charlton: A magic system based on written words. Plus, the protagonist has a unique magic disability.

The Long Price Quartet – Daniel Abraham: Living poem demon magic

Warbreaker – Brandon Sanderson: Interesting use of colors in a magic system

Promise of Blood – Brian McClellan: Powder mages with great negative effects if overused and elite soldiers who can manipulate gunpowder

The Demon Cycle – Peter V. Brett: Interesting use of magic through symbols

The Barbed Coil – J.V. Jones: Involves magic via patters influencing the world around you

The Dagger and the Coin – Daniel Abraham: Magic is the power of suggestion from tiny spiders in the blood

The Vineart War – Laura Anne Gilman – A magic system based on wine

Psalms of Isaak – Ken Scholes: Uses magick scouts and a bloodletting to create a blood magic

Glamourist Histories series – Mary Robinette Kowal: The glamour based magic system, very three dimensional and lived in.

The Shadow Saga – Jon Sprunk: Magic comes from the shadows

The Black Prism – Brent Weeks: Interesting use of colors in a magic system

Runelords – David Farland: Plays with the idea of people using runes to steal other people’s attributes and adding them up

Coldfire Trilogy – C.S. Friedman

Godslayer Chronicles – James Clemens: A world completely shaped and run by the body fluid of gods that came four millennia ago. A very unique take on how a world would be if an immortal god lived with humans.

Inda – Sherwood Smith: Nobody poops because that’s what magic is for. Unique in its mundaneness.

On Stranger Tides – Tim Powers: Very unique take on voodoo

Shadows of the Apt – Adrian Tchaikovsky: Interesting world and ecology. Some can speak mind-to-mind, and there’s the aspect of aptitude, where some races can use technology and others can’t.

Cosa Nostradamus – Laura Anne Gilman: Magic based on electricity

The Disillusionists Trilogy – Carolyn Crane: Magic based on individuals with phobias, addictions, etc using their various issues to influence the behaviors of others

Harry Potter – J.K. Rowling: Because of the cleverness that Rowling used in naming. The names usually come from Latin.

The Name of the Wind – Patrick Rothfuss: The way to use the magic system is through using the true name of objects

Rough Magic – Kenny Soward:  Everyone has a wellspring of power which can be developed and tapped in various ways. For example, Raulnock the wizard is very astute and studies spells and hand formations, while Nikselpik is a bit of a “rockstar” and generally relies on his natural ability and “drugs” to achieve the desired results.

The Magister Trilogy – C.S. Friedman: Magic is powered by using the lifeforce of others

Winds of the Forelands – David B. Coe: Using magic makes your life shorter

—–

On the flip side, I asked what makes magic systems less than unique. I got far fewer answers for this question, but here are the few I did get: 

Wands

Magic without consequences

When you can concoct d20 rules for a magic system in fifteen minutes.

“If I can figure out how to play it as I read, I’m already bored.”

Magic that causes something to happen based on effort of will

Magic based on waving your hands in the air and muttering phrases

Have more suggestions? Comments? Concerns? Please keep the discussion going. 

Replica – Jenna Black

About the Book

Sixteen-year-old Nadia Lake comes from a high-class Executive family in the Corporate States. Her marriage has been arranged with the most powerful family in her state, which means she lives a life of privilege but also of public scrutiny, followed everywhere by photographers, every detail of her private life tabloid fodder. But her future is assured, as long as she can maintain her flawless public image — no easy feat when your betrothed is a notorious playboy.

Nathan Hayes is the heir of Paxco — controller of the former state of New York, and creator of human replication technology, science that every state and every country in the world would kill to have. Though Nadia and Nate aren’t in love, they’ve grown up close, and they (and the world) are happy enough with their match.

Until Nate turns up dead, and as far as everyone knows, Nadia was the last person to see him alive.

When the new Nate wakes up in the replication tanks, he knows he must have died, but with a memory that only reaches to his last memory backup, he doesn’t know what killed him. Together, Nadia and Nate must discover what really happened without revealing the secrets that those who run their world would kill to protect.

368 pages (paperback)

Published on July 16, 2013

Published by Tor

Author’s webpage

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

—–

I haven’t read many young adult science fiction books, so when I get them in the mail; I tend to jump on them for that reason alone. I enjoy unique, and I also enjoy broadening my literary horizons. When I received Replica, I jumped on it and I read it in a day. Now, people who follow the blog might remember me saying a few times that if I read a book in a day it means I either loved it or hated it. Well, Replica tries hard, but in the end, it just wasn’t for me.

One of my issues right off the bat is that for a science fiction world, there really isn’t much SciFi involved in this book. The world itself is a future version of our own, but it’s not really that future. In some ways, it’s a step back entirely. For example, many of the social structures have a very European Monarchy sort of feel. Women go in public wearing big dresses and they worry a lot about Victorian era social protocols. Men have more liberty and freedom than women do. In their living environments, people live on their own at a much younger age (the protagonist, Nadia, and her betrothed are both 16 and 18 respectively and live in their own apartments) and the only real SciFi aspect of their living arrangements is the fact that they live in an apartment by themselves at such a young age. Other than that, they ride in limousines, answer to their parents, go to school and learn things and whatever else. For a SciFi world, there really isn’t much SciFi there.

All of these points are accentuated by the fact that Black never gives the reader a timeline to reference. This takes place in the Corporate States, so we know it’s not now, but when is it? In most of the good SciFi books, readers are given a reference point of some sort. In Peter F. Hamilton’s books, we know it’s waaaaaay in the future because of the planetary travel and advanced technology. However, the only real SciFi feel to Replica is the fact that Nathan has a replica. Other than that, the people ride around in limousines, so it can’t be too far in the future and the social structures make me think of the 1800′s. If Black had added some sort of firm world building that screams “This is SciFi” at readers, perhaps some of my problems with the world building would have been rendered null and void. However, with different aspects of the world screaming different time periods at readers and no firm timeline for people to work with, the problems the world building faces are just highlighted.

That being said, society has evolved. There are social classes, the sort you’d expect in a sort of Victorian-esque SciFi world. The world itself is ran by big businesses, marriages among the upper crust is arranged for alliances and whatever else you’d expect and there’s also a very bottom class, the lowest of the low, who live somewhere called “the Basement.” Black really doesn’t spend much time on any social classes between the upper and lower most. Perhaps in her world there isn’t a middle class. No matter what the cause, the clash between upper and lower classes is rather fascinating. Black involves bribery, secret police, blackmail and everything else. Her politics are dirty, and the world they play in is just as dirty and polarized. She highlights all of that really well. 

Perhaps my biggest complaint with Replica is regarding the characters themselves. For a young adult novel, they aren’t really that young adult. Nadia is sixteen her betrothed is eighteen. They both live on their own, go to meetings, get daily schedules for their busy lives printed up for them, do interviews, worry, love and hate. The only time that either of them really feels young adult is when Nadia is in school and she has to deal with the teasing of her fellows. Then her age is apparent, but otherwise their lifestyles and some of the themes that are toyed with (like drugs, for example) are incredibly adult which makes me wonder why this book wasn’t just written for adults. The ages of the protagonists just doesn’t line up with how old they act most of the time. Perhaps in Black’s world children have to grow up faster, but even then the young adult feel was almost completely lost on me except for a few snippets (mostly social situations) here and there.

(The following paragraph contains a minor spoiler. Read at your own risk.)

Replica, in its heart, is a murder mystery. Nathan, Nadia’s future husband, ends up murdered. He and Nadia have to find out just who murdered him. In the process there is everything you’d expect from any good young adult novel. There’s some romantic tension, plenty of adventure and action, a secret organization is uncovered, and both Nadia and Nathan find themselves in the middle of it all and way out of their depth. The problem is really regarding the set up for the plot itself. The suspected murderer won’t come as a surprise for anyone, and Black makes his guilt so obvious to the reader that it actually does the exact opposite. It makes the reader certain that he’s not guilty and thus, unleashes a ton of predictability in the novel. When most of the plot twists take place, the reader will discover they anticipated and expected (insert plot twist here) chapters ago. It’s really a buzzkill.

(Spoiler over)

When everything is boiled down to its roots, the problem with Replica really isn’t the writing style, or the plot, world, or characters. It’s the fact that this is a novel that can’t decide what it is. Is it science fiction? Urban fantasy? Victorian? The society and world is such a mix of all of those that it really isn’t anything special or memorable. Likewise, are the main characters teenagers or adults? Their ages say one thing, but their actions and thoughts say another. Replica doesn’t really have a “place” in the speculative fiction genres. While “genre bending” is a positive term most times, Replica isn’t a genre bender, it’s just confused about its own identity. It’s billed as a young adult science fiction novel, and while occasionally all of that pops through, it doesn’t show up often enough to really scream “young adult” or “science fiction” to me. Other than that, Black has an interesting story on her hands. Some of the build-ups make the plot incredibly predictable, but the concept is interesting and the writing is solid. In the end, however, I just can’t recommend the novel. It suffers from identity confusion and that identity confusion makes it incredibly difficult to suspend my disbelief enough for me to enjoy the book.

 

2/5 stars

Mist – Susan Krinard

About the Book

Centuries ago, all was lost in the Last Battle when the Norse gods and goddesses went to war. The elves, the giants, and the gods and goddesses themselves were all destroyed, leaving the Valkyrie Mist one of the only survivors.

Or so she thought.

When a snowy winter descends upon modern-day San Francisco in June, Mist’s quiet existence starts to feel all too familiar. In quick succession, Mist is attacked by a frost giant in a public park and runs into an elf disguised as a homeless person on the streets…and then the man Mist believed was her mortal boyfriend reveals himself to be the trickster god, Loki, alive and well after all these years.

Loki has big plans for the modern world, and he’s been hanging around Mist for access to a staff that once belonged to the great god Odin. Mist is certain of one thing: Loki must be stopped if there is to be any hope for Earth. But the fight is even bigger than she knows….

Because Loki wasn’t the only god to survive.

384 pages (paperback)

Published on July 16, 2013

Published by Tor

Author’s webpage

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

—–

Occasionally I get myself into trouble. Despite the fact that Mist had all the telltale signs of a book that I probably wouldn’t like, the Norse mythology aspect of it was unique enough to make want to give it a go anyway. So I read it, and I finished it, and I rolled my eyes and moved on. This is one of those books where the concept is better than the execution.

Mist never really manages to grip the readers. She’s a rather unequally balanced character. On the one hand, she’s a strong, independent heroine that I can respect. She lives her life and does the best she can, and she can also kick butt when needed. She adjusts to new situations easily enough without much mental fight or struggle. On the other hand, she’s foolish almost to the point of being stupid. She often jumps into situations without thought, which get her into more trouble than necessary. For someone as well trained a warrior as she is, she seems to win most of her battles and arguments by sheer dumb luck. So you see, on the one hand she’s a respectable creation, but that’s nicely balanced by all of the two-dimensional, topey aspects the author saddled her with. These two factors work well together to create a character in Mist that is almost impossible for the reader to connect to. Her story is interesting, but her development is off just enough to make her unbelievable and almost ridiculous.

That being said, while many urban fantasy readers will probably expect a bit of romance out of their urban fantasy books, there really isn’t any here to speak of. This is a huge bonus for Krinard. Not every urban fantasy book needs to be full of sexual tension and sex scenes and Krinard not only knows that, but she takes advantage of the fact. While there is one character that will develop into Mist’s love interest, Mist herself is (realistically) too busy to really pay too much attention to that sort of thing. This lack of a romantic detour really helps readers focus on the world, plot, characters, and mythology more than they otherwise would. That’s also a good thing, because Mist really does take some time to sink your teeth into.

The world building is something else I took issue with. Toward the beginning of the book Mist finds a frost giant and an elf. Both of these events mystify her, but perhaps due to my inability to connect with the main character, I never felt that wonder. Instead, I was told that she was mystified. I was also told that it was snowing in summer, and numerous other things. In fact, in Mist there is quite a bit of telling going on, and not much showing. The world is just about as believable as the characters, which isn’t much. It never comes to life. I could never picture anything, and there are details that were off. It’s snowing in June, but Mist seems to just absorb that information and none of the people who live in San Francisco really mention it at all. It’s snowing in June. That’s weird. Move on. Look, there’s a frost giant. That’s weird. Move on. There is no world building. There is no dynamic sequence of events that bring everything together in a glorious ah-ha moment. Nothing pops. Instead, the reader is presented with an interesting concept and incredibly clunky execution. The world isn’t real, and the reader will know it.

All of these issues perhaps point to the greatest one that underscores them all. Krinard’s poor execution, which I keep mentioning, is perhaps most effected by her writing style. There are some incredibly obvious and poorly done infodumps, which are basically shouted at the reader through these tedious and way-too-long verbal slapdowns between Loki and other people. The dialogue with everyone in the book is as wooden as the characters themselves. Some scenes are far too long, while others that should have been longer to allow Krinard to expand on the world, mythology, or characters, weren’t long enough. It just seemed like the focus was everywhere it shouldn’t be, which leaves readers with this gaping hole where a hole shouldn’t exist and a complete inability to connect with the characters, world, and plot.

It’s too bad, because the idea that fuels this book is a unique one that will appeal to all the people who look for unique urban fantasy books to read. There’s a huge amount of promise here, but unfortunately Mist just doesn’t deliver any of it. Krinard has a clunky execution. Her characters are underdeveloped. The world barely exists in my mind’s eye. There’s no emotional appeal due to a tell-rather-than-show style of writing. Infodumps and overly long scenes are distracting and wooden dialogue makes whatever interest that could exist nonexistent. In the end, I must commend the author for the effort it takes to write a book, while admitting that I just can’t recommend this one.

 

1/5 stars

Thinking Through Type | Separating the Art From the Artist

Thinking Through Type will be a rather random addition to the blog wherein I go on long, rambling diatribes about some issues that affect the SFF world. It’s literally me thinking “out loud” (or as loud as it gets on the internet), which is why it will be “rambling” rather than cohesively pulled together and nicely edited. This is the raw edition of my thoughts and I’m going to try very hard to explore multiple perspectives on some hot-button genre issues.

I encourage discussion, but keep it polite. The point of Thinking Through Type will be to examine issues, and examination often best happens when beliefs and viewpoints are (politely) challenged. Feel free to add your two cents in a comment. Discussion helps me broaden my understanding of the world and the many events and people that color it. 

—–

I am lucky enough to be one of those birds that flies in several different artistic circles. My website keeps me absolutely immersed in all things SFF, and through it I’ve made some amazing author, publisher, and reviewer friends. My photography has kept me immersed in semi-pro and professional photography circles. I am a rather busy person, and due to the fact that I’m running my own business, I also have to self-promote a lot.

A few weeks ago I got an email from someone who, I guess, was a fan of my photography. She wrote me a letter saying that she loved one of my photography series. She saw some of my new work at (insert venue here) and loved it. Unfortunately, she did some research on me and somehow found out I’m an atheist. This was hugely offensive to her and due to the fact that I’m an atheist, she can no longer support my artwork.

Fine. That’s her right, but for the life of me I can’t figure out how my atheism influences the quality of my photography.

Hey, Sarah, what are you getting at here?  

It’s interesting for me to see these discussions about Orson Scott Card pop up all over the place. In my mind it boils down to a fundamental issue that I addressed on my Facebook page today: Can/should we separate the art from the artist? This is made doubly thought-provoking because I’ve now been on the side of the artist who is getting spurned due to a belief/lack thereof.

Card is very vocally against same-sex marriage and while I have a visceral knee-jerk reaction against his point of view, and I find many of the things he’s said absolutely offensive, he has a right to his beliefs, no matter how offensive they might seem to people. Until I balance his checkbook and make his financial decisions, he also has a right to do whatever he wants with his money. On the other hand, people have a right to speak with their money and show their disfavor of his beliefs, just like my potential photography client did with me. It’s easy to get swept up in passions and the heat of debate, but the truth is that I can see both sides of the issue, especially now that I’ve experienced both sides of it.

I’ve studied art my whole life. I’ve always been very into it; from sculptures, photographers, painters and whatever else you can throw at me. I’ve taken more art history classes than I could count. I’ve spent months in Europe studying art. I am obsessed, and I can say the same with literature. I am fascinated with art in all its many forms. This is probably why running Bookworm Blues is so easy for me. Analyzing the creative field is nothing new to me. I’ve been doing it for years and years. However, one thing I try very hard to do with my website is separate the art from the artist.

Why?

Despite the fact that every bit of art reflects the artist in some way, the art itself is not the artist, just as corporations are not people, and neither are books or paintings. None of them have hearts, thoughts or feelings. They don’t eat, breathe, cry, sweat, or worry. I have read a ton of books throughout the course of running my website. I’d be a fool to think that I couldn’t find something to fundamentally disagree with, or even be offended by, if I analyzed each author closely enough. I try hard not to get to know authors too well. It helps me remain impartial as a reviewer. If the author’s viewpoints aren’t known, they can’t color their book for me, and I can enjoy the work from a less biased foundation.

One reason literature and art has always fascinated me is because it stretches my understanding of the world around me and the people who inhabit it. Each year I make myself read a lot of books in a genre I don’t typically enjoy. Why? Because reading those books forces me to gain a greater respect for the authors, their efforts, their books, and their fans. It helps me broaden my scope and I enjoy that. It keeps me from stagnating.

There are books that address all sorts of issues that I disagree with. For example, Twilight, especially later in the series, focuses quite a bit on abstinence until after marriage. The series has millions and millions of fans (though that boggles my mind). Do you really think that each of those fans is pro-abstinence just because they read the Twilight books? Of course not. I love Mark Lawrence’s series, but that doesn’t mean I’m pro teens killing people. You don’t have to agree with the author or the themes they toy with to enjoy the book for what it is. There are a ton of fantasy books that involve men degrading women in one form or another (IE: there’s rape in Peter V. Brett’s first book), but I tend to enjoy the books anyway because (insert thing here) is realistic in the context of the world the author has created. It doesn’t mean that I’m (whatever).

On the other hand, people speak with their money. Orson Scott Card has gone out of his way to be vocally against same-sex anything. His plea for tolerating his intolerance is the cherry on top of his incredible cake. Not seeing his movie is one way for people to say they disagree with him and his discrimination. That is within the consumer’s right. We speak with our money all the time. For example: I refuse to buy anything from Chick-Fil-A. I also realize the company doesn’t even notice the loss of my business.

As I said above, I’ve never read Ender’s Game or any of Card’s books because I’ve never really felt any inclination to do so. His movie, honestly, doesn’t look that interesting to me (I’m not a huge movie person, anyway). However, Ender’s Game is one of those books that has pulled a lot of young minds into SFF and created genre fans for life.

You can probably tell I’m of two minds regarding the issue of separating the art from the artist. On the one hand I can understand why people wouldn’t want to support someone who so vocally and flamboyantly offends a huge portion of the population. On the other hand, it goes back to me loosing a client because I’m an atheist. How on earth does my lack of belief affect the quality of my photography? It doesn’t. I don’t hand out The Origin of Species before I do a still life set. Orson Scott Card might be an asshole regarding some of his beliefs, but in this grand country, doesn’t he have a right to be an asshole? I can’t read minds, but I’m pretty sure he didn’t write an entire book while chanting, “I hate gay people” over and over again. If people can enjoy Twilight and have guilt free pre-marital sex after, can’t they do the same with Ender’s Game?

Orson Scott Card will make money off of his movie and what he does with it is his business. I don’t balance his checkbook so I couldn’t tell you where it goes, and despite the claims floating around, I’m not sure anyone else could really tell you how much of his money goes to groceries and bills, and how much of it goes to his religious or personal beliefs. I’m not sure that’s any of anyone’s business, anyway. His beliefs make me almost physically ill, but he has a right to them, just like I have a right to mine, and you have a right to yours.

Like I said above, I try very, very hard to separate the art from the artist. I read books and have studied paintings of people I fundamentally disagree with, and I’ve enjoyed their art immensely. Just because someone enjoys some artwork doesn’t mean that said person supports the artist’s perspectives, or is even aware of them. Then again, people speak with their money, and that can create a powerful voice. Many people feel that not seeing his movie or buying his books will give him less money to dedicate to his various anti-causes. With the internet it’s easy to find out how people feel about certain issues. That’s why, as a reviewer, I try hard not to pay attention. Once you know how an author feels about anything, it’s hard to not let that color their work.

The grand thing about living in today’s day and age, in this country (and so many others) is that I have a right to be an atheist, no matter who that ticks off, and Orson Scott Card has a right to get his hate on, no matter how many people that offends. What either of us does with our money is our business. Boycotting my photography because I’m an atheist won’t get me to be any less of an atheist, nor will it force me to stop taking pictures. I’m sure the same can be said for any author or artist out there.

It’s the guilt about this issue that is bothering me the most. People have already started using the terms “support” in relation to Card’s upcoming movie. For example: I won’t support OSC so I won’t buy a ticket to his movie. Fine, but I doubt everyone who is going to go see that movie is thinking that they are “supporting” anti-gay causes by buying a ticket to his movie, and coloring it like that seems incredibly black and white to me when the world is full of grays. Consumers aren’t supporting my atheism when they buy a print from me. They are supporting my photography.

So what does this gigantic rambling diatribe boil down to?

Consumers speak with their money, so go forth and speak with yours. Art has enriched people for thousands of years. Orson Scott Card is very vocal regarding his beliefs, but if we really examined every artist out there, I’m sure we could all find something to absolutely disagree with in each of them. We can either make ourselves blind, deaf, and dumb to avoid all the controversy out there, or we can accept a book or painting for what it is and realize that artists, consumers and everyone else has a right to believe whatever they want. We all also have a right to agree, disagree, purchase or not purchase their work. It’s as simple as that.

Art is a window into a point of history that can never be revisited. It’s an interpretation of events, understandings, struggles, and hardships. There are some amazing paintings from Spain that depict inbred royal families (a common practice way back when so the royal blood would be kept “pure”). Viewing them, and enjoying the bit of history they are portraying, does not make the viewer or painter “pro-inbreeding.”

Perhaps on this issue we should all agree to disagree and leave the drama to the pundits.

The Straits of Galahesh – Bradley P. Beaulieu

About the Book

West of the Grand Duchy of Anuskaya lies the Empire of Yrstanla, the Motherland. The Empire has lived at peace with Anuskaya for generations, but with political turmoil brewing and the wasting disease still rampant, opportunists from the mainland have begun to set their sights on the Grand Duchy, seeking to expand their empire.

Five years have passed since Prince Nikandr, heir to the scepter of Khalakovo, was tasked with finding Nasim, the child prodigy behind a deadly summoning that led to a grand clash between the armies of man and elder elemental spirits. Today, that boy has grown into a young man driven to understand his past – and the darkness from which Nikandr awakened him. Nikandr’s lover, Atiana, has become a Matra, casting her spirit forth to explore, influence, and protect the Grand Duchy. But when the Al-Aqim, long thought lost to the past, return to the islands and threaten to bring about indaraqiram – a change that means certain destruction for both the Landed and the Landless – bitter enemies must become allies and stand against their horrific plans.

Can the Grand Duchy be saved? The answer lies hidden within the Straits of Galahesh.

572 pages (paperback)

Published on April 3, 2012

Author’s webpage

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

—–

When Beaulieu asked me if I’d be willing to read and review his series, Lays of Anuskaya, I jumped on it. My only reluctance was the fact that I read the first book (and reviewed it) a while ago, and since then I’ve forgotten many of the story details. It’s not Beaulieu’s fault I have a crappy memory, but it did make me nervous about starting off on book two. I was afraid of being a little too confused and missing many of the details I usually pay attention to when I read a book I’m going to review.

This is where my first bonus point for Beaulieu fits in. Instead of a prologue that takes way too long and sets the tone for the story but is largely useless (sorry, I’m not a prologue fan) Beaulieu, in his infinite wisdom, put a summary of the first book where the prologue would be. Not only did this refresh my forgetful brain, but it kept Beaulieu from having to drop in “reminders” throughout the book like so many authors do. There were no refresher paragraphs sprinkled throughout the prose, which was absolutely wonderful. If you just came from reading the first book, you could skip that section. If you are like me and it’s been a while, reading the first section will bring you up to speed and help you remember everything you might have forgotten.

The Straits of Galahesh takes off five years after The Winds of Khalakovo ended. Despite the gap, there is a rather seamless transition from book one to book two should please many readers. Furthermore, Beaulieu’s confidence as an author has grown between book one and book two and it’s obvious in his world building. Where many of the aspects of the world building and descriptions seemed slightly tentative before, now Beaulieu explores it all with confidence and vivid descriptions. Not only does the world expand quite a bit, but Beaulieu’s prose brings it to life for the reader. Other islands, cities, cultures and traditions are explored and it’s quite refreshing, it also makes The Straits of Galahesh feel more epic than The Winds of Khalakovo, which was something I welcomed.

Along with the expanded world are also some expanded conflicts. Beaulieu adds some political tensions between the islands and the Empire. The Straits of Galahesh follows three main characters, Nikandr, Atiana, and Nasim. While the trio stuck together for much of the first book, duty has thrust them apart in this second installment of the series. This actually ends up being a huge benefit for the reader as the three perspectives in three different areas helps readers understand multiple conflicts, side plots, perspectives and plot threads that Beaulieu weaves through the book. It also helps the reader understand the broader scope of the world that Beaulieu is dealing with.

Nikandr, Atiana, and Nasim all grow along with the world. They are each, for the most part, doing their own thing but the five year gap between books has required them to grow and mature the way a normal person would in five years. Beauleu handles their growth and development well, and keeps it going throughout the book. Some storylines might be more interesting than others for readers, but that’s going to be more of a personal preference thing than anything else. By and large, Beaulieu has succeeded in making his characters more engaging for readers in The Straits of Galahesh.

The Straits of Galahesh does take some time to build its momentum and engage readers, but the patience pays off. Once the book starts going, it moves quickly and is full of action and plenty of vivid adventure. Furthermore, since the three main perspectives are in different areas doing different things, the action and plot has a multi-hued feel to it that was really interesting. Beaulieu exercises his perspectives for maximum impact. Once the book gets going, it’ll be hard to pull yourself away from it.

Beaulieu switches perspectives every few chapters. The result of this is probably the cause for some of the rather slow burn start. The first half of the novel feels rather disjointed, more like short stories focusing on three different people rather than one uniform novel. However, Beaulieu pulls all of it together in the second half and nicely ties it off in a powerful ending.

I often talk about SBS (Second Book Syndrome) and in some respects The Straits of Galahesh suffers from it. Some aspects of the plot felt incredibly set up for the third book and lacked the natural flow of much of the rest of the novel. Occasionally Beaulieu tells and doesn’t show readers what is happening. These two factors working together can make readers feel like this second book is a bridge to hold books one and three together, rather than a book that can stand on its own merit independent of its series brethren. That being said, once readers reach the second half of the novel, things really get going. There’s plenty of action and suspense. The second half is where second book syndrome turns into more of a memory.

One thing that is mentioned over and over again in reviews of this series is how much of it is influenced by Russian and Middle Eastern cultures. This influence spreads into the names of characters, places and even the magic system. Beaulieu’s creativity should be noted here, as his magic system is rather complex. However, the magic system and the world both expand in this second book, and along with it, readers are given even more foreign names that often sound similar. This can be confusing, especially since many of these words are dropped into the book in a way that makes readers figure out what it means as they go. This might not be a big deal to many readers, and it’s something I expected when I started the book, but it can be mildly frustrating at times. In some ways this reminds me of the great epic fantasy authors like Erikson or Martin, who often throw readers into the deep end of the pool and let them figure out how to swim on their own. While some readers don’t mind that sort of thing, some do. It’s a personal preference issue more than a problem with writing or execution.

The Straits of Galahesh is a strong second book. Readers who enjoyed The Winds of Khalakovo will be sure to love this one. It isn’t perfect, but it’s a strong set up for what looks to be a promising finale to a unique, refreshing, and often surprising trilogy. Beaulieu’s expansion of his world, characters, conflicts and magic system pays off in a big way. This is a book full of surprising twists and turns resulting in a high impact novel that will have you hanging on for dear life by the time it’s ended. Regardless of whatever else I say, in the end I must tip my hat to Beaulieu’s unique vision and his nearly flawless execution of it. This is one series to pay attention to.

 

4/5 stars

Those Poor, Poor Bastards – Marquitz, Martin, Soward

About the Book

‘THE WALKING DEAD AND HELL ON WHEELS COLLIDE!’  

September, 1868…SOMEWHERE IN THE SIERRA NEVADA, during the expansion of the Central Pacific Railroad, Nina Weaver and her pa, Lincoln, trundle into Coburn Station with a wagonful of goods they’re looking to barter. Of all the rotten luck, their world—and the future of the American West—is forever changed when a sudden swarm of zombies invades town on the hunt for some human-sized vittles.

THOSE POOR, POOR BASTARDS is the first volume in the all-new Old Western Action-Horror series, “Dead West.” From the deranged minds of Tim Marquitz, J.M. Martin, and Kenny Soward.

Ebook

Published on July 8, 2013

Published by Nine World Media

Webpage

This book was sent for my review by the author.

—–

I hate zombies. I know that’s bad to admit, but I do. I don’t like reading about them, watching them on TV, hearing people talk about them. I just don’t care. A book full of zombies is almost sure to turn me off instantly. With that being said, why on earth did I decide to read Those Poor, Poor Bastards?  A few reasons: First, Tim Marquitz tends to do things differently with the books he writes, and I find that interesting. Second, I’m currently on a Weird West kick and this book most certainly takes place in the Weird West. Third, I was told it had a strong female lead, which pleases me. So the pros outweighed the gigantic zombie con and I decided to give it a try. Honestly? I’m glad I did. I enjoy challenging myself, and this one of those books where that challenge really pays off.

Marquitz told me that the authors intended this book to be like an action packed TV show that hit you hard and left you wanting more. Those Poor, Poor Bastards is a novella that clocked in on my computer in a .pdf file at 94 pages. I can read about 94 pages in an hour or two. Usually because I devour novellas so fast, they frustrate rather than please me. I like my books to last longer. That being said, Those Poor, Poor Bastards is so full of action and adventure that it feels like the book lasts a lot longer than it really does. The authors do a great job at gut-punching the reader almost instantly with a surprising amount of action, gore, and unique characters and their relationships. For the most part, it feels like more happens in this novel than there’s time for, which was surprising to me. The only area where I really did feel some of the shortness of the book was with character development. The problem in a short novel is that there just isn’t that much time to fully flesh out characters. Then again, characters aren’t well developed in the first series of a TV show, either. That’s not really the point. The point was to introduce readers to the world, the situation(s), present an overview of the characters, and make sure you care enough to come back for more. In this regard, the authors succeeded.

Nina is the most developed character, but I expected that. She’s the strong female lead with an interesting past and an even more interesting present. She’s half Native American (or Injun), and seems almost anti-hero in the fact that she often wants to act for herself more than for others, but she usually ends up helping others anyway. It’s an interesting dynamic to add to the book. Nina is a complex character who promises more complexities in the series to come. While Nina is the most fleshed out character, the others are just as believable, if not as well developed. Each character has their own unique traits which serves as a brilliant foundation for future character development and exploration.

After reading a few Marquitz books I knew he wasn’t afraid of gore and lots of action, but I’ve never read books by Martin or Soward so I wasn’t sure how all of that would blend together. I didn’t know if the authors would temper each other, or what. The truth is; if you are a rather squeamish reader who doesn’t enjoy lots of graphic details, you might want to skip over Those Poor, Poor Bastards. However, if you don’t mind the graphic details (very graphic details) and nearly nonstop action where graphic details are often used, then you’ll probably not mind this book. The authors really leave nothing out. They go into extreme detail regarding bodies decomposing, losing fluid and things of that nature. That being said, the reason this isn’t just another zombie novel (because I’d hate that) full of guts and gore is the character relationships.

While the characters haven’t had time to be fully fleshed out, their relationships are the focus of this book, and it’s their relationships that make you care about what is happening. In fact, while a lot of this book deals with zombies and battles, it seems like it’s actually a book about relationships with the zombie-gore-action as a nice (but obvious) prop to help tell the story the authors are really trying to tell. This was probably what made the book work for me. Most zombie novels and shows I’ve had the dishonor of watching (I’m sorry. I really do hate zombies on a very fundamental level for some reason) are written in such a way that the readers need to care about zombies first and the characters and their intricate relationships are a nice secondary prop to the zombie portion of things. Those Poor, Poor Bastards isn’t written like that at all, and that’s why I actually enjoyed it. The authors have really managed to side-step a huge issue that the zombie books/TV shows face by creating a book full of characters that, if not fully fleshed out yet, have the promise to be multi-dimensional in future books. Even if they aren’t fully fleshed out yet, their relationships are, and that’s what makes readers care. This isn’t just a zombie novel with interesting backup characters. This is a character driven, high-octane thrill ride, with zombies as an interesting backup. It’s set in a dynamic and interesting Weird West, which is just the cherry on top of the ice cream sundae. The future of this series holds so much promise. I’m incredibly excited to see what comes next.

And that’s something I never thought I’d say about a zombie novel.

Those Poor, Poor Bastards isn’t perfect, but what is? It’s a high-octane thrill ride full of blood and guts. The zombie factor might pull in a lot of readers, but this is more than your grandma’s zombie book. This is something new and different full of unique characters and fantastic adventures. Those Poor, Poor Bastards sets the stage for a wonderful series to come. It’s amazingly fun and an incredibly fast read that will sink its teeth into you and leave you wanting more, more, more. It’s a unique, invigorating spin on a subject I generally hate, but I was swept away by the wonderful setting and interesting characters. The authors put a new spin on a very tired and uninteresting literary trope. They took a gamble and it paid off. Those Poor, Poor Bastards is definitely one of those books you’ll want to read right away. It is sure to surprise you.

 

4/5 stars

Promise of Blood – Brian McClellan

About the Book

It’s a bloody business overthrowing a king…

Field Marshal Tamas’ coup against his king sent corrupt aristocrats to the guillotine and brought bread to the starving. But it also provoked war with the Nine Nations, internal attacks by royalist fanatics, and the greedy to scramble for money and power by Tamas’s supposed allies: the Church, workers unions, and mercenary forces.

It’s up to a few…

Stretched to his limit, Tamas is relying heavily on his few remaining powder mages, including the embittered Taniel, a brilliant marksman who also happens to be his estranged son, and Adamat, a retired police inspector whose loyalty is being tested by blackmail.

But when gods are involved…

Now, as attacks batter them from within and without, the credulous are whispering about omens of death and destruction. Just old peasant legends about the gods waking to walk the earth. No modern educated man believes that sort of thing. But they should.

560 pages (hardcover)

Published on April 18, 2013

Published by Orbit

Author’s webpage

This book was given to me to review by the publisher.

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It seems like 2013 has been a good year for book releases so far. Furthermore, most of the debut books I’ve read have impressed me more than I expected them to. When I got my ARC of Promise of Blood, I was fairly excited. It’s made the review circles buzz. Most people who have read this book seem to have really liked it. I had big expectations, and in many ways, this debut book lives up to them all. However, like I say all the time, nothing is perfect.

Promise of Blood has a strong Brandon Sanderson connection which has been discussed in reviews over and over again. Suffice it to say, McClellan was one of Sanderson’s creative writing students (as I understand it) and this shows, especially in aspects of the magic system. Sanderson is known for some incredibly unique magic systems. For example, in his Mistborn books where people ingest metals and then manipulate them. McClellan follows in Sanderson’s footsteps. In this book, the powder mages somehow consume/snort/whatever gunpowder and their senses are heightened. They can control or redirect bullets. It’s all really interesting.

I have to say; while Sanderson’s magic systems are absolutely fascinating and incredibly unique, I found myself almost lamenting just how much McClellan let Sanderson influence his magic system development. There’s nothing wrong with it, per se. However, regarding the powder mages, while fascinating and well thought out, they smelled a little too much like Sanderson’s Mistborn magic system and thus, I probably didn’t find them as unique and compelling as many other people did. In fact, for the most part, the powder mages felt like the Mistborn magic system only with guns. This disappointed me somewhat. While they are unique, they are Sanderson unique. I had hoped that McClellan would step out of Sanderson’s influence a bit more and make something that was signature to him and him alone. The good part about McClellan’s use of this magic system is that he keeps it rather refreshing in context with the other magic systems and social structures he uses in the book. Furthermore, there are some good nuances and downsides to it, like gunpowder addiction and historical tension with other mages that manipulate the “Else” and control elements. Regardless of my nitpicking, it’s easy to become rather fascinated by his magic system.

McClellan dumps the reader into a world in the middle of a rather chaotic change. The first bit of the novel is a crash course regarding a world in the middle of turmoil in almost every sense. The balance of powers have shifted. There was a political coup, the economy is changing, and the world is shifting in almost every sense. Drop in a few personal relationships and their own unique dynamics, as well as a fascinating magic system and you’ve got an engrossing, refreshing and action packed novel. Promise of Blood is a wonderful example of how authors can dump readers into the middle of an incredibly tense, chaotic situation and then proceed to build a lush world and magic system around them without any obvious infodumps or plot speed bumps.

There’s a little of everything in Promise of Blood, from a private investigation into a mysteriously uttered phrase, to obvious political and economic struggles regarding a coup, a civil war and problems calming down the populous of the city where all this takes place. It basically has everything a novel needs to make it interesting and it really works. However, Promise of Blood takes a turn toward the second half, and that is really where things fell apart for me and the novel’s weaknesses became more obvious. McClellan really offers his readers a well-written debut novel with very few hiccups with the flow of his prose. The problem arises with the more frequent changes of perspectives. Some perspectives went on far too long, and others not long enough. This left me feeling rather jarred by the pace and frustrated by how the plot seemed to struggle to stay together and focused on its primary goal toward the end.

McClellan has some solid writing, and I do feel a bit nitpicky for this point, but one of his primary struggles is with character development. Many of the characters felt a bit lopsided. Some of them were very well rounded like Taniel, and others just suffered, like the women. There are very few positively portrayed strong women in Promise of Blood. While I usually don’t pick on this point, it did get to be annoying, especially when repeated mentions of raping noble women were made, and a comment about wives needing to be more obedient. While I realize that each society has its own issues, and usually aspects of novels like this don’t bother me, for whatever reason, it just seemed more apparent in Promise of Blood. One character, Vlora, is the only female powder mage and has the potential to be an incredible character, but she’s wallpaper. McClellan missed an opportunity to present a unique female character with his lack of Vlora’s development, though I feel this will probably change as the series progresses.

In the end, this novel was an interesting mix for me. There are some excellent aspects, like some fascinating world building and a magic system that really is absorbing and unique (despite the fact that it is a bit too much Sanderson-esque in my opinion). The first half of Promise of Blood shows McClellan’s incredible capabilities as a fantasy author. The book is refreshing, unique, and has a bit of everything, from political turmoil to economic distress and some down and dirty PI work as well as plenty of blood. Promise of Blood falls apart in the second half, and it’s that second half that left a somewhat sour taste in my mouth. I am very rarely upset by the portrayal of women in fantasy novels, but for whatever reason, the lack of positive, strong women, and how women were often referred to by men, really bothered me. Vlora was a missed character building opportunity, which I hope the author utilizes in further installments of the series. The pacing and flow was rather jarring due to frequent perspective changes and focus often lasting too long on characters that are just boring.

So what am I saying here? Promise of Blood is a great debut. No matter how much I complain about it, I can’t deny that McClellan has my attention and I’m very excited to see how he grows and develops as an author. His debut work is more polished than most debut books I’ve read and while it’s not perfect, it is absorbing. McClellan is an author to watch.

 

3/5 stars