When I get home from work today, my copy of Down Among the Sticks and Bones by Seanan McGuire should be waiting for me, I’ve been eagerly waiting for this book for about a year now.
I know (well, I fear) that it won’t be as good as Every Heart a Doorway — it can’t be.
That doesn’t mean it won’t be good, just not as good. As long as I remember that, I won’t be disappointed. Which is my biggest fear.
Am I the only one who plays mind-games like this?
Exit Strategyby Steve Hamilton
Series: Nick Mason, #2Hardcover, 289 pg.
G.P. Putnam’s Sons, 2017
Read: June 9 -12, 2017
You kill one person, it changes you.
You kill five . . . it’s not about changing anymore.
It’s who you are
If that’s the case, Nick Mason is definitely in a second life that has very little to do with his old one. This is the book’s thesis, whether or not it’s true is up in the air for most of the book. Certainly Mason’s, um, employer and supervisor believe this to be the case.
Mason’s trying to deny it, he can’t admit it to himself (at least early on in this book), anyway. Part of Mason’s attempts to deny this change hinges on him removing himself and everyone he cares about from Darius Cole’s control. Cole is on the verge of being released during a retrial, and he enlists Mason to keep the witnesses from testifying. So you’ve got Nick hunting down some of the most protected federal witnesses in the nation while attempting to get under from Cole’s thumb.
That’s about all I can say — almost nothing happens in this book that I didn’t figure would happen at one point or another — but I assumed we were talking book 4 at the earliest for most of these developments. I can’t say more than that.
If you liked The Second Life of Nick Mason, you’re going to go gaga over this. That’s a really all I can think to say. The action/fight scenes are great — dynamic, intense, and each one is so unlike the ones that have gone before that you breathe a momentary sigh of relief that Hamilton’s not going to give us reruns before reading on (frequently reading through your fingers because you aren’t sure you want to see what’s going on — a tactic that worked much better as a kid watching TV/movies than it does with books). How is an assassin so poorly trained, so seemingly unlucky, so successful — not to mention still breathing?
When it comes to straight-forward, adrenaline fueled, white-knuckling thrillers, it doesn’t get better than this. Hamilton took everything he did right in the first book (which was just about everything) and amps it up. I may have to increase my blood pressure mediation before the third book comes out. Don’t miss this one, my friends.
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After low number of posts last week, I went out of my way to make sure I had two posts ready for today. One of which I scheduled for 15 hours later than I meant to (not sure how) — it just went up. And the other post was only saved as a draft.
On the bright side, it’ll be easier to get two posts ready for tomorrow, right!
The End of Magicby Amber Benson
Series: The Witches of Echo Park, #3Paperback, 310 pg.
Ace Books, 2017
Read: May 18 – 19, 2017
I don’t know how to talk about this book without discussing the series as a whole or getting into plot details that no one wants me to, really. But I’ll try.
The Last Dream Keeper left things in a very dark place — even for the middle installment in a trilogy. So it was with a little trepidation that I started this — just how much darker were things going to get? Thankfully, not much. Which is not to say that the book took on a euphoric or optimistic feel, but there were glimmers of hope within the darkness. Some small moments of victory in the face of loss before the main action of this particular novel took off.
The Flood is gaining momentum — the anti-magic movement is getting governments around the world to turn on witches, to start interring them (at best). While running for their lives and liberty, someone they have to unite to take a final stand. Lyse MacAllister, herself still new to magic, takes up the challenge to lead her sisters against the Flood.
When talking about book 2, I said: “And when I say that the plot takes this book in dramatically different directions than you expect, it is almost impossible to believe that the closing pages of this book and the closing pages of The Witches of Echo Park belong to the same series — much less are separated by only one novel. Somehow, however, Benson pulls it off — I really have no idea how. When I think about it, it doesn’t make any sense — but in the moment, it absolutely worked.” That’s even truer for the difference between Book 1 and 3. It’s impossible to guess your way through this plot — but it’s all real, it all flows organically.
I (and many others, I realize, I don’t claim to be original) have often said it’s all about execution. There are plots that when described, I’d say I wouldn’t like that I have — and vice versa. If you gave me either the series outline or the book outline — I’d have said, “Nope, not for me.” But Benson pulls it off in a way that I: 1. enjoyed reading and 2. appreciate. I don’t know how to talk about the plot anymore than that.
These characters all seemed real — all of them (even the pair that really didn’t exist in our world) felt like people you could go meet in real life. Well, maybe not the people in The Flood, let’s be honest. But everyone else absolutely did. Which is a real strength in a book that got as outlandish as this one.
I’ve read all of Benson’s books (at least her solo books) now — and it’s great to see her develop into the writer of this book. Nothing against Death’s Daughter or the rest of that series, but the depth of character and craft in this series is beyond that. Yeah, I maybe didn’t like everything she did with these characters or the books, but I liked the way she went about it.
I’m throwing in the towel here, I just don’t know how to talk about this book — strong characters (in every sense of the phrase), honest emotions, a bananas plot, and an ending you won’t see coming until it’s too late jump out of the way. Heroism, (not just romantic) love, magic, family — this series has it all. Give it a try.
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I’ve been quiet over the last week, I know — I’ve discarded a couple of posts to try to get them in better shape. I have no illusions that I’m cranking out masterpieces every day or anything. Still, I want to do a decent job, especially with books/authors that I hope people will pay attention to. Hopefully I can either live up to my standards this week (or lower them).
Here are the odds ‘n ends over the week about books and reading that caught my eye. You’ve probably seen some/most/all of them, but just in case:
Lastly, I’d like to say hi and welcome to GEORGE SORIN VENETE and The Sound of One Man Laughing for following the blog this week.
Project Mothershipby Ash Gray
Series: The Prince of Qorlec, #1Kindle Edition, 137 pg.
2017
Read: June 6, 2017
Rose is on her honeymoon when she’s abducted by aliens — who have abducted her for the express purpose of having her carry one of the many eggs of a Queen struggling to keep her subjects safe and fighting to prevent an invasion force from completely conquering her planet. And, yeah, if everything goes bad, it’ll be good to have some descendants of the Queen running around.
A few years later, a woman comes knocking on the door of Rose and her daughter, Quinn, with the news that the enemy is close — and has been working with the FBI — to take her daughter from her — Rose and Zita fight for their escape through human robotic and alien forces, just trying to get off the planet so that Quinn can claim her rightful place helping her people.
There’s a sense of fun, despite the dangers, and a great pace with plenty of tense moments throughout this. It was an enjoyable read with some good writing, and I’m pretty curious where it goes from here. It’s not perfect, I have a couple of complaints that I’m afraid will overshadow things — I want to stress: I liked this book, I want to read more — don’t think this post is anything but a recommendation.
But to start with, other than the weaponry, I’m not so sure I see the difference between Gray’s 2160 and 2016 — it’s a shame that Gray didn’t work harder on that part of the world he built. I’m not saying it needs to be an unrecognizable reality (although it’d be nice), but we should have moved further than just better guns.
One of my biggest beefs in fiction — TV or books — are central characters telling their closest family and friends lies to protect them. Yes, I’m looking at you particularly CW DC shows. That’s Rose’s impulse move, which is understandable, but why not trust those closest to her with the truth? Particularly her husband, clearly head over heels with her. Why make up a ludicrous story to explain what happened to her rather than risk the truth?
My last beef was the sex scene — there’s some romantic tension early on that I’m fine with, I thought it worked in the moment. But running for your life, with various enemies on your heels is not the time to take a quick break for a little whoopie. It didn’t need to be as graphic as it was (thankfully brief), but really ill-timed.
Setting that aside, this was a fun, quick read (I couldn’t believe I was done when I got to the end) that really made me want to go grab the sequel. Ash didn’t create a masterpiece here, but he told an engaging, entertaining story. Which is good enough for me.
Disclaimer: I received this book from the author in exchange for this post, I appreciate it.
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The Astonishing Mistakes of Dahlia Mossby Max Wirestone
Series: Dahlia Moss, #2Paperback, 312 pg.
Redhook, 2017
Read: May 16 – 17, 2017
“She’s just trouble. Dahlia Moss is a nexus of trouble.”
Det. Maddocks meant that as a disparaging remark — but he’s pretty much on target. Which is good news for Wirestone’s readers.
Dahlia is asked to meet someone at a video game tournament, he’s convinced it’d be good to have a detective on hand. Her mysterious client, Doctor XXX, doesn’t show where he’s supposed to — but there is a dead body there.
So, while not getting in the police’s way, Dahlia needs to investigate the murder, find out just who Doctor XXX is, why he thought a detective would be needed at the tournament — not to mention, just who’s the guy in his underwear handcuffed to a chair nearby?
Concerned for her welfare, Dahlia’s roommate, Charice sends her boyfriend Daniel along to act as a bodyguard — for some reason, people in her life aren’t crazy about Dahlia going to meet a stranger named Doctor XXX. I enjoy Charice, but a little of her goes a long way, and one of the biggest issues I had with the previous book was that Charice was just in it too much — having Daniel stand in for her for most of the book helped a lot. Daniel’s goofy enough on his own, but he’s much more restrained than this girlfriend. So the whole thing was easier to take. Det. Shuler wasn’t around much, and mostly served as someone for Dahlia to get occasional help from. Hopefully, he has a bigger role next time. Of course, we also have Nathan, Dhalia’s love interest:
A word about shirtless Nathan. I have a real thing for Nathan-I admit it-but this is not a Janet Evanovich-y romp here where Rick ManSlab takes off his shirt to reveal a sixpack, or an eight-pack, or a seven-pack (which is a six-pack and an abdominal hernia, possibly?), or whatever packs guys have these days. Shirtless Nathan looks like a turtle who has somehow gotten out of its shell. He has no body mass! No fat, which is admittedly appealing, but no anything else. He was a brazen little turtle, though, because he seemed cheered by the turn of events.
Dahlia herself is a blast — a great mix of confidence, cowardice, competence, and cluelessness — she’s over her head in a lot of the situations she finds herself in — but doesn’t let that stop her — she just barrels on, sure that things will work out . . . eventually. I love her voice, her attitude — and ineptitude. Really, all of her. She’s probably my favorite female detective since Izzy Spellman.
I know, thanks to that blurb/review of The Unfortunate Decisions of Dahlia Moss , everyone talks about Veronica Mars in relation to Dahlia — but the more I think of it, the quotation above is closer to the truth — she’s Stephanie Plum with more realistic anatomy. The same heart, a similar humor, the same good intentions and haphazard results, with some loony friends (not as extreme as Stephanie’s) and a similar budding triangle.
In the midst of the investigations, Wirestone is able to celebrate the videogame culture and those who are part of it while being able to joke about it and have fun with some of the eccentricities around it. Not just laughing at, but with these characters and their hobbies is a great way to appeal to both those inside geek culture and without. More than that, we have a pretty decent mystery — one that’s not just clever in construction, but in the way it is told.
This is such an enjoyable read — I didn’t make it out of the first chapter without audibly chuckling. I had a lot of fun with the first book, and I think this was a noticeable improvement — I had more fun reading it. I hope this trend continues to the next book. Also, I’m hoping this isn’t a trilogy — I don’t know that we need 20+ Dahlia Moss mysteries, but three isn’t going to be enough.
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Fellow Book Bloggers, Authors, people who have something to say about books but don’t have a place to say it —
I’ve got a family medical thing happening in mid-July that’s going to take me away from the blog for a couple of days. I’d like to have something going up here, however. If you’d like to contribute something, drop me a line!
Very busy week, was barely online for a couple of days, plus it was the end of the months — which results in not a lot to see. Still here are the odds ‘n ends over the week about books and reading that caught my eye. You’ve probably seen some/most/all of them, but just in case:
Lastly, I’d like to say hi and welcome to catskittiesandmore, saisuresh007 and perfectbingosites.co.uk for following the blog this week. And, a belated greeting and welcome to alexankarr1 for following last week (sorry I missed you).
A Monster Callsby Patrick Ness
Paperback, 225 pg.
Candlewick Press, 2013
Read: June 1, 2017
I hadn’t even heard of this book until a couple of weeks ago, when it was recommended to me by a loyal reader. And I wasn’t given a lot of details, just a strong recommendation and something about it being “about grief.” I could’ve used the warning that it was a YA book, but otherwise, that’s all I needed to know (and the YA wouldn’t have been a deal breaker or maker — I just would’ve liked to know what I was grabbing). I’m not going to say much more than that, really. It’s about grief, there’s some magic, and it’s one of the most effective novels I’ve read this year.
There’s been so much said about this book by others — I’m almost afraid to say much, I don’t want to ruin anyone’s discovery.
You’ve got a 13 year-old boy, Conor, whose mother is undergoing cancer treatment — and it’s not going well. His grandmother (not at all the stereotypical grandmother-type, as Conor is very well aware), comes to stay with them with every new round of treatment, and Conor hates it. His father and his new wife have started a new life in the US. All of this has left Conor isolated, emotionally all alone — except at school, where he’s bullied (when not alone). Somehow in his despair, Conor summons a monster, a monster older than Western Civilization, who visits the boy to help him.
He helps him via stories — I love this — not escapism, but through the lessons from stories — and not in a “You see, Timmy . . . ” kind of moralizing — just from understanding how people work through the stories.
After reading page 15, I jotted down in my notes, “Aw, man! This is going to make me cry by the end, isn’t it?” I didn’t, for the record, but I came close (and possibly, if I hadn’t been sitting in a room with my daughter and her guitar teacher working on something, I might have.
The prose is easy and engaging — there’s a strong sense of play to the language. There’s some wonderfully subtle humor throughout, keeping this from being hopelessly depressing. The prose is deceptively breezy, it’d be very easy to read this without catching everything that Ness is doing. But mostly, what the book gives is emotion — there’s a raw emotion on display here — and if it doesn’t get to you, well, I just don’t know what’s wrong with you.
The magic, the monster and the protagonist remind me so much of Paul Cornell’s Chalk (which is probably backwards, Chalk should be informed by this — oops). Eh, either way — this is cut from the same cloth.
That’s a bit more than I intended to say, but I’m okay with that. I’m not convinced that this is really all that well-written, technically speaking. But it packs such an emotional wallop, it grabs you, reaches down your throat and seizes your heart and does whatever it wants to with it — so who cares how technically well it’s written? (and, yeah, I do think the two don’t necessarily go together). A couple of weeks from now, I may not look back on this as fondly — but tonight, in the afterglow? Loved this.
Love, grief, hope, loss, anger, fear, monsters and the power of stories. Give this one a shot. Maybe bring a Kleenex, you never know . . .
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