J.B. Garner's Blog, page 24

Starving Review: The Kingdom Lights by Steven VS

The Kingdom Lights by Steven VS (Amazon, Goodreads)

It’s true.  I’m a sucker for any kind of fantasy meal.  The more imaginative the ingredients, the more I love it.  So, when I opened up the pantry last week to find out my next meal, I was pleased as punch to find The Kingdom Lights, which promised an imaginative world, magic, adventure, and all of that good stuff.  Would it live up to my expectations or join the buffet table of by-the-numbers, mediocre meals out there?

Before we cut into this particular pie, let us read the Starving Review creed, etched in the stones of the kitchen floor:

I attempt to rate every book from the perspective of a fan of the genre
I attempt to make every review as spoiler-free as possible

Lights is a sterling example of a particular problem I have run into multiple times stuffing myself at the book review table.  It is a meal that hints at tremendous imagination, a deep and abiding world lore, and has a macro plot that should be gangbusters good.  The issue is that there is a serious disconnect at the expository and descriptive level to actually make this imaginative world live and for the plot at the micro level to have any real pop.

I will eschew my first review instinct to compare the plot and characters strongly with a much larger, more popular fictional cuisine line and focus on the real meat and potatoes here.  There’s nothing being done particularly wrong here, but there’s nothing being done particularly well here outside of the core imaginative concepts.

The world’s cultures, faiths, and institutions are hinted at but never explored at any level, despite having an excellent plot device in place to provide some proper exposition.  The fantasy races introduced, even though they comprise most of the cast of characters, receive minimal description at best.  The magic of the world, one of its key plot points, isn’t even explained at all until about two-thirds of the way through the book and, even then, there are two major forms of magic told to us multiple times that is never given a lick of explanation.  We don’t know what’s possibly on the menu, we aren’t given any rules for dining, and we don’t even know what the other people at the table really look like.  It turns a meal with hints of many exotic spices into a bland dining experience.

This lack of focus extends to the characters themselves.  Outside of the main protagonist, who even then feels considerably generic, the rest of the characters, outside of one who steals the meal at the climax, feel more like tools in the plot.  When they are needed, they are automatically in scene and moving the plot and, when they aren’t, they disappear once again.  Again, though, there are maddening hints that if you sat the chef down for a talk and asked him about these characters, he would be able to tell you hours of information about these people, but not a drop of that permeates into the flavors of the meal itself.

It may seem I’m being very critical.  Other than the fact that I am, it comes down to seeing something that could be so great, so imaginative, and has flashes of true brilliance (again, the twist in the climax was really great at times) fall so flat at the end.  It’s not a bad book … it’s cleanly written if a little weak in some of its narrative and the core principles and ideas are very solid … it just comes so short of its potential and it is maddening!

In summation, The Kingdom Lights has the hint of exotic spices and imaginative ideas, but tumbles into being a mediocre, standard fantasy meal.  If you are a devoted fantasy fan, you might consider picking this up eventually, when you have nothing more pressing to read.  If you aren’t a fantasy fan, there’s nothing particularly worth your time here.  I hope the chef takes this to heart and does a full revision on this tale, because I would love to see it reach its full greatness.

FINAL VERDICT: *** (A book with the hint of exotic spices and imaginative ideas, but tumbles into being a mediocre, standard fantasy meal.)

Writing Is A Bad Habit: Less Isn’t Always More a.k.a. Balanced Exposition and Description

Brevity may be the soul of wit, but it is possible to be too brief. While we as authors strive to avoid info dumps, telling not showing, and letting our language dive into purple prose, we also must counterbalance this with smart exposition, action-based characterization, and vivid description. As you can see, this is quite a balancing act. In the past, we’ve talked about what happens if you overdescribe, and today we’ll talk about the dangers of underdescription.

It should be self-explanatory really. If we do not create a story with enough exposition, we leave out critical world-building and characterization moments. The fictional world becomes bland, flat, and lifeless, while the characters inhabiting it become cardboard cutouts. No matter how much drama and tension you may try to create in that environment, the reader simply won’t be drawn in as they lack the critical information needed to understand the situation. Likewise, they won’t care about the characters enough to be invested for the same reasons. This is Capital A Doubleplus bad!

Similarly, bland description can cause a similar disconnect. Especially when you are trying to create a brand new, completely fictional world, you must use a certain level of description, possibly including those dreaded adverbs (OH NO!), to help your readers create the necessary mental picture. While it is fine to let your readers’ imaginations run wild, there is a need for a certain baseline canvas for them to paint on and a selection of paints for them to use. Your words create that canvas and provide that palette. A painter cannot paint without tools, after all.

So remember, as with all things, balance is critical in using description, characterization, and exposition. Too little can be as damning as too much!

As always, if you have any comments or criticisms, please let me know in the comments below! Until next time, good reading, good writing, and good luck!

Feature: Things to Gift to a Book Lover (Part 2)

jbgarner58:

The Gift Parade continues!

Originally posted on The Galaxial Word:

Hey guys! We’re back with PART 2 of the “Things to Gift to a Book Lover” series. If you liked this post, don’t forget to leave a comment, like, and follow, or enter your email in the sidebar just to your right there. Oh, and just so you’re not too lost, Part 1 is here!

Number 6: 

For the weird candle person…

Are you the type of person who has a weird addiction with candles? Or do you know a person who burns very sweet, strong scented candles all day long that give you headaches? If you want to take your candle obsession to the next level so it can match the level of your book obsession, then these book scented candles are a definite must have. Or even if you just want to have a book scented candle for the hell of it, they’re still a definite must have…

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Monday, err, Tuesday Musings: A Taste of What’s to Come

So the things we have learned this past day are obvious, mainly to always ensure one’s alarm is set when living a new, non-standard sleep schedule.  I did warn that some posts might be coming later, but I don’t think a whole day later is covered by that.  For this, I apologize profusely.

To make up for that, let’s do something a bit more substantial than the usual weekly ramble.  How about we put up a little smidge of my next novel (still untitled, yo!), a fantasy mystery romance post-magical-apocalypse film noire tale with some cyberpunk influences.  Remember, this is still first draft stuff but I hope you enjoy all the same!

ACT I – A Most Pleasurable Way to Die

From The Formation of a New Age by Elan Corvyn, ratiri historian:

Pre-Collapse, the world was dominated by what we now call the Olden Folk, then known as Hyu-Man. The exact nature of the Collapse is unknown, other than it was fueled by research into previously forbidden forms of the arcane arts. What we do know is that the vast transmutative energies unleashed led to the creation of the modern Folk, mergers of Olden and non-sentient beasts of the land. The Aard came of canines, the Myan from felines, the Wass from the oceans, the Hive flew on insectile wings, the Winds cut from avian cloth, the Daj blind as their mole-kin, and the Ratiri scurry on rodent legs.

From The Walled City: A Divine Prominence by the 87th Lord-High Mayor Testria:

Sometime shortly after the Collapse come the first written records of the existence of the Walled City. Common tales cite that the City was raised by the divine hand of Inam Wallmaker, the god of cities and the first Lord-High Mayor of the City. However, continued research leads us to believe that, while Inam did found the City, he did not do so with a wave of a divine hand. It is now considered historical fact that it was the act of raising the City from a simple trading outpost to the massive structure, extending over one hundred feet into the sky and spreading over the entire Great River delta, that led to Inam’s ascension into Godhood.

From the journal of Inspector Vela Redmane, 13 Octavian 736 PC:

The Mermaid’s Scale is renowned for two things: its hoppy brews and its vibrant nightlife. To my delight, the Scale was living up to its reputation this past evening. I had a frothy mug in front of me, a sleek-furred aard man whose flirtations had not gone unnoticed seated to my right, and a clear view of the swaying hips and multi-colored scales of the wass serving maid coming towards me. This night, my only free one for a week on-duty, was draped in endless possibilities. To better enhance those possibilities, I used a subtle gesture to loosen the lace of my blouse, exposing a bit more of my brown-and-white-furred cleavage.

The man, just out of boyhood most likely, was named Jaquabi and wasn’t holding his beer well. “I’ve never shared a drink with a Watchwoman before,” he slurred, a grin spreading across his muzzle. “What’s it like?”

“Well, my handsome boy, I’m technically an Inspector,” I corrected,” but it all ends up the same way for us. Danger, intrigue, and the Law, it’s the life we lead in the service of the Walled City.” As I finished, I took up my mug and nodded to Jaquabi to do the same.

He followed suite, though his thick fingers seemed unsteady. Unfortunately, if he was doing so badly with just beer, he likely wouldn’t be able to keep up for the evening and I was not going to take advantage of such a blossoming flower.

The barmaid, on the other hand, looked a bit more worldly, flashing a smirk on her wide lips as she settled a platter of grilled eels on the table. “Here you go, Inspector. Best eel in the entire Second Ward!”

“I’ll add it to the wonders of the Scale, my dear, and please, call me Vela.” I flashed my best smile. “Perhaps you could join us after your work is done.”

“Methinks it’ll just be you. Your other hound-friend is about to fall out.” The fish Folk always have an underlying echo to their voice, something this fine prize of a girl showed off as she laughed.

“If that’s what the Gods deem fit, so be it.” Seizing the initiative, I took the lovely scarlet-and-white scaled hand hanging at the girl’s side and kissed it gently. “I would be most honored to have your company alone then.”

I could see the blush about the barmaid’s gills as she raised her free hand to her mouth, but the flirtatious giggle that followed was drowned out by a shrill cry from above.

“Murder! Treachery! Someone, call the Watch!” It had started with one voice, but redoubled as others took up the alarm.

I could curse fluently in three languages, but I held them all in as I reluctantly dropped the wass girl’s hand. To be a Watchperson in the Walled City, the greatest city in all Aardsland or perhaps the world, was a duty that did not end when your shift closed. The Scale’s common room turned into disarray and panic as I grabbed my watchcoat from my chair and raised my badge above my head as I stood.

“Make way! Inspector coming through!”

The crowd, as diverse with Folk as any other in the City, parted before me. Even the most salty of seamen or the grittiest of thugs understood and respected the sanctity of the Watch, even if I didn’t also have my truncheon gripped tight in my right hand. As I mounted the stairs in swift steps, I could already guess where the crime had been committed from the gawkers grouped around an open door. The Scale has several private rooms on the second floor for private parties and other such things, and it was one of those rooms where something undoubtedly unintended had happened.

What was strange was that I hadn’t picked up a scent of anything normally affiliated with murder. My sharp aard nose was filled with sweat, alcohol, smoke, and other unsavory things, but no blood, gore, or other tell-tale signs of violence. I put that aside as I reached the door, giving the railing of the walkway we all stood upon a few sharp whacks with my truncheon.

The ringing blows grabbed the attention of the curious mob, turning to see me with my silver badge raised high. I settled into my most authoritative bark, possibly ruined by the beer on my breath and my bountiful cleavage, and announced, “Junior Inspector Vela Redmane, Second Ward Watch! If you didn’t see the crime or find the body, clear off!”

Whether it was my appearance or my reputation at fault, it mattered little as the onlookers only parted to make way instead of dispersing. At least I was fortunate that no one seemed to have trodden over the scene of the crime itself. By the wide-open door was a shivering ratiri woman, a full two heads shorter than I with a plump, matronly build. I recognized her as one of the serving staff, something backed up by the spilled tray of meat and wine just inside the room itself.

As for that room, it was a cozy, if plain, affair. I was intimately familiar with rooms like this myself and I catalogued it swiftly. The bed was immediately to the right, headboard against the wall to allow for a view out over the Second Ward’s docks, the mixture of true moonlight and the rays cast by the City’s Celestial Stone dance across the waters of the Orb Sea. A small fireplace provided the only lighting in the room, the two oil lamps in the room dark. A once-fine oak desk and chair sat up against the far wall, under the window, seemingly undisturbed.

The only things out of place was the one shattered window pane, shards of glass scattered on the desk, and the dead body. Sprawled across the bed face-up, he was a tawny-furred myan, his slitted green eyes still open and staring glassily at the ceiling. Dressed in remarkable finery for a patron of the Mermaid’s Scale, there was no obvious cause of death, save for the growing smell of the corpse’s evacuating bowels. As I covered my sensitive muzzle with a lace handkerchief, I couldn’t shake the final oddity of the dead man: the expression of carnal pleasure on his lips.

The gossip was already flowing down through the crowd as I turned my eyes on the waitress, her whiskers and nose still twitching with fear. “You, ma’am, you found the body?”

She nodded twice quickly, shiny eyes focusing on me. “Aye, my lord had left an order downstairs for dinner at nine bells and I brought it up. When I opened the door, I saw him dead and -”

I raised a hand. “The door wasn’t locked? This is one of the private rooms.”

Perhaps it was the fear of suspicion that made her shivers grow in intensity as she shook her head. “I didn’t do nothing wrong of any sort! The door wasn’t locked so I only guessed my lord was expecting his meal.”

“Calm down, ma’am, I am casting no accusations, only looking for the truth.” I put on what I hoped was a comforting smile. If the circumstances were different, I’d no doubt be flirting with the woman, who certainly looked more comely once you took away the dark effect of fear upon her. “I take it then you dropped the tray in shock and let forth that cry of fear?”

Despite an initial flinch from my touch, the lady seemed calmed after a moment of my touch. “Yes, Inspector, but I swear I didn’t touch a thing. I was too scared to! It could be poison or a curse or … the Lurkers.” She put two long fingers to the middle of her brow, the sign of Nym, goddess of purity, at the mention of the black creatures that dwelt below the furthest reaches of the Walled City.

“It wasn’t Lurkers.” I let my voice raise loud enough for every gossip and rumormonger still pressing around us on the walkway to hear. The last thing I or anyone of the Watch needed was rumors of a Lurker attack, especially with no evidence of one. “You did the right thing though. Now what is your name?”

“Christabelle, Inspector.”

I favored Christabelle with another smile. “A lovely name. Do you know the lord’s name?” I didn’t expect that whatever name he had given would be his real name, considering where he was and what he appeared to be, but any clue could be important.

“Lord Chai, methinks.”

I nodded slowly. “Very well. If I have any more questions, I will come see you. For now, tell your master that I need his bouncers to clear out the rabble from getting underfoot. More of the Watch will be here soon, no doubt, and they won’t be as kindly as I.”

She straightened herself up and nodded. “Yes, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am!” With that, she scurried off into the crowd and down the stairs.

Free to investigate further, I took a step over the spilled food and purposefully closed the door in the faces of the gawkers. No more free show for them. It was time to go to work.

By the time a squad of Watchers had arrived on the scene, I had nearly finished my examination of the room and the body. There were things that would have to be left to the surgeons at the Watchtower, of course, but I had the sinking feeling they would only confirm what I had already found, clues that only presented questions with faint few answers.

As I had initially noted, the myan’s corpse had no injuries and no signs of poisoning. No needle marks, no discoloration of the flesh, or anything else. The only clue to his demise was the frozen expression of unmitigated lust on his face, something confirmed by the stains in the front of the man’s trousers. I could only surmise that this richly-dressed man had been taken by the Dealer through the failure of his heart under an extremity of pleasure.

It wasn’t impossible, certainly, but the problem with that theory was a lack of stimuli. While I supposed one could work oneself into such a frenzy simply through the power of thought or imagination, my mind moved quickly on to the other possible cause: magic.

A sufficiently powerful wizard was capable of all manner of mental manipulation. They had run roughshod over the politics of the Walled City for centuries, despite their hand in the Collapse, until the Seventeeth Lord High Mayor created the Sorcereum to train and observe wizardly practices within the City itself. The Sorcererum wasn’t a perfect answer, but it allowed the more civic-minded mages to get a handle on their more chaotic brethren.

For magic to have done the deed, it would have been ideal for the spell-caster to have been close to the victim … the close the target, the less mana needed to weave into the spell … or have some other sympathetic link either to the target or to the caster. A lock of the victim’s hair, for instance, or an enchanted icon to provide a conduit to the wizard, there were myriad possibilities. Pondering that, my eyes caught a glint of light from within the slowly dying fireplace.

Kneeling down, the source of the glittering was obvious. A small, purple crystal was slowly charring in the embers; its light starting to be concealed by a coating of ash. I swiftly grasped up the tongs hanging by the poker next to the fireplace and clutched the smoldering gem.

Holding it up to my eyes, I smiled. It wasn’t a literal smoking scroll, yes, but the flutter of magic still hung in the facets of the gem. Keeping the tongs clenched in one hand, I turned on my knees, my gaze cutting a line around the room before focusing on the window.

Normally, a broken pane in the Second Ward, one of the three wards of the destitute first layer of the Walled City, would mean little. That there was actual glass in the windows was a testament to the relative wealth of the Scale. However, if the window had been shattered in the past, the lingering glass shards would have been cleaned up long ago. No, that pane had been shattered recently and, importantly, had been broken from outside. Something hard, perhaps, slung with some strength could have shattered that window and landed right into the fireplace.

I picked the cooling crystal out of the tongs. This was the key to the mystery lord’s demise. I simply had to follow its trail.

Feature: Things to Gift to a Book Lover (Part 1)

jbgarner58:

Take notes, people! This is neat stuff!

Originally posted on The Galaxial Word:

Christmas time is almost here, so you should start getting excited. But if you’re not Christian you can still get excited because of New Year! Or maybe you still celebrate Christmas? Maybe you’re atheist… Maybe you are Jedi? After all it is a registered religion in England. But anyway, you are all probably going to be involved in gift exchanging over the next few months. This is a list of ten things to put on your (Christmas) wish list. Please be sure to put these on your list because GO COMMERCIAL CHRISTMAS!!

Number 1: 

For the eBook reader…

Are you the type of person who loves reading eBooks but is scared of how other “traditional” book readers will judge you? Well, you can finally relax. This kindle case is made in the finest Italian leather (or maybe its Norwegian… I can never tell) to replicate a gorgeous vintage book cover. It…

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Starving Review: Girl of the Book by Princila Murrell

Girl of the Book by Princila Murrell (Amazon, Goodreads)

So a good meal and a good book both tend to carry messages.  They can tell us about the chef, they can tell us about the cultures that spawn and inspire them, and they can tell us about the human condition.  Pretty nifty, don’t you think?  Today, we have a middle ages children’s meal that wants to tackle some of those big issues!  Does it succeed?

We’ll find out, but first we have some important news from Starving Review, LLC:

I attempt to rate every book from the perspective of a fan of the genre
I attempt to make every review as spoiler-free as possible

It seems that I’ve been pulling a fair number of children’s meals out of the pantry lately so I need to remind folks of my number 1 rule.  The reality of reviewing literary cuisine is that there are some subjective factors.  You just can’t review a meal for young teens in the exact same light as one for adults and, likewise, one reviewer’s preferences and tastes differ from another’s.  So with that out of the way …

Girl tackles an important social issue in the modern world, though it is one that has had repercussions for centuries, namely the relations between Christians and Muslims.  In this task, it does a good job as it introduces positive examples among both sides of that equation, though it is admittedly a bit edged towards the European Christian point of view (even though the main protagonist is actually a white South African).  Still, it approaches the problems and situations in a subtle, realistic fashion.  It feels quite authentic.

The meal itself is cooked up in a satisfactory fashion with a clean style that should be easy to wolf down for the age group it’s intended for.  It represents a good, fun meal for children while not being too directly preachy about its subject matter.  What it isn’t is one of those children’s books that transcends the age divide.  While perfectly edible by an older audience, it just doesn’t have the spice to catch and draw in like the best children’s literature can do.

I know that this is ending as a short review compared to my usual culinary reminisces, but Girl is a straight forward meal to approach.  In summation, Girl of the Book is a solid, balanced children’s meal with an important message to deliver.  I would definitely recommend it to children of the appropriate age group (early teens, possibly earlier based on reading level) for its message and solid writing, but there are superior reads for older teens and adults that explore the same messages of tolerance and cultural diversity.

FINAL VERDICT: **** (A solid, balanced children’s meal with an important message to deliver!)

Writing Is A Bad Habit: Life Isn’t Lived in Chapters! a.k.a. Non-standard Novel Structures

Let me start this off by saying a critical statement:

There is nothing wrong with the traditional chapter format for a book!

That’s important to say because some people think that any advocacy for new techniques and new formats in any sort of media is a condemnation of what has come in the past.  The normal chapter format is great and I’ve used it for the majority of my own writing.  That isn’t to say though that there isn’t merit in writing in a non-standard structure.

Take Dracula for example.  While there is a linear timeline, it is written and structured as a collection of journals, newspaper clippings, and other writings as opposed to a straight-forward narrative.  Likewise, a shifting, out-of-order timeline can turn conceptions of how the characters and plot develop on its head.  What about the book-within-a-book concept, utilizing in-universe fiction to inform us about the actual world and plot of the story?

Even something as simple as alternating viewpoints is a deviation from the standard narrative structure, especially if you use an approach of conflicting unreliable narrators.  Take inspiration from such famous narratives as the films Rashomon and The Usual Suspects.  There’s a wealth of options to explore in creating both a unique story AND a unique way to tell that story!

Think about what would work best for the plot, the characters, and the themes you want to explore in your works.  Never limit yourself to traditional narratives, but also never forget that they exist!  Sometimes, the old ways ARE the best!

Until next time, good reading, good writing, and good luck!

General News: Schedule Shift Go!

This is just a minor note but still important.  As my part-time, get-con-money job has now shifted to overnight hours (10 pm to 6 am, woo!), my entire waking schedule has shifted to accommodate that.  What this means for you, fair reader, is that your regular blog posts (Monday Musings, Writing Is A Bad Habit, and Starving Reviews) will still come on their usual days, but be posted later in the afternoon or evening by Central Time reckoning.

After the holidays, expect this to rectify.  I will let you know when it does.

Until then, good reading, good writing, and good luck!

Monday Musings: New Book Series, New Readers a.k.a. Beta Readers Needed!

Okay, literary foodies, I need to call upon some assistance!  You see, I think I’ve hit critical mass to start getting a proper group of alpha/beta readers together.  It is something completely different than the other novel series I have written and I’m looking for as much input as possible.

The book itself is a fantasy mystery romance LGBT drama set in a post-magical-apocalypse world with film noire and cyberpunk influences.  I don’t want to delve much into it as there is still fluidity in the course of the plot (I’m about a third of the way through the book).  If what you have seen here interests you so far, then contact me at jbgarner58@gmail.com and I will tell you more!

Sorry for the brevity today, but I am starting to work a few overnight shifts each week so, yeah, time to shift my sleep schedule.  Expect more later this week!

Until next time, good reading, good writing, and good luck!

Starving Review: The Flight to Brassbright (The Brassbright Chronicles Book 1) by Lori Alden Holuta

The Flight to Brassbright (The Brassbright Chronicles Book 1) by Lori Alden Holuta (Amazon, Goodreads, Smashwords)

It’s quite remarkable that I have had so few steampunk platters dropped off into my pantry.  For such a diverse and popular style of cooking, I certainly expected to be overwhelmed with them when I first began this quest for fine literature!  You must be able to imagine my delight to find this shiny, brass serving tray come up in line as my next treat to dissect.  However, I’ve been betrayed before by genres I adore!  Will this meal end in triumph or tragedy?

Before I answer that burning question, let us remember the Starving Review creed:

I attempt to rate every book from the perspective of a fan of the genre
I attempt to make every review as spoiler-free as possible

My favorite type of meal is one that entrances me so much with its flavor that it becomes effortless to slide through, no matter the complexity or intensity of the written word.  It is the high mark that all literary cuisine should aspire to and Flight reaches those lofty altitudes.  It’s hopeful, bright, optimistic, while never turning a blind eye to the thematic reality of dark things in the imaginative world the chef constructs for us.

The plot itself represents a prime example of what can be achieved through using a different blend of spices for your antagonists and conflict than the traditional choice.  Though there are some ‘traditional’ antagonists, the primary thrust of Flight is the development and coming-of-age of the protagonist,  In essence, this is very much like the classic origin story for our protagonist, constructing her and the world she lives in through an intriguing full-course meal.  It gives time for the flavors to mix and permeate the pages, while not committing the grave sin of not having its own complete story to tell.

I mentioned the brightness of this meal, something that appeals quite a bit to me, and that feeling is expressed primarily through the quirky humor that is never far from the surface.  It never overwhelms or distracts from the main plot, but it never failed to bring a smile, a chuckle, and, in one case, outright peals of laughter.  The good kind of laughter: laughing with the book, not at it.  It was a delightful meal and I feel better for having partook of it.

A last mention of world-building is in order here, mainly as it is quite skillfully handled.  Creating a new world is hard and getting it across to a reader without boring them silly is even harder.  Here again, the chef takes advantage of the scope of this origin tale to introduce the world through the travels of our young, inexperienced protagonist.  It allows the world-building to fit properly in the pace of the novel, while also providing a proper device for that work to be done logically.

In summation, The Flight to Brassbright is a delightful steampunk repast introducing a finely crafted new world and characters!  Any fan of steampunk or Victorian fiction should pick this up immediately, as well as something to give to any voracious YA reader.  It spoke directly to the young man still residing in my heart.  The only people I wouldn’t recommend this to is for those looking strictly for ‘serious’ or ‘dark’ tales, as this is certainly not dark in that sense of the word!

FINAL VERDICT: ***** (A delightful YA steampunk repast introducing a finely crafted new world and characters!)