HC chats with Nebula Award-winning author Vanessa Ricci-Thode about the business side of Self-Publishing.
You can (and should) learn more about Vanessa and her books at:
Website
Bluesky
Instagram
Also, be sure to see her contribution to Spreading the Self-Pub Love in 2025!
HC sat down with author, bon vivant, and all-around hoopy frood, JCM Berne, to talk about the business side of Self-Publishing.
You can (and should) learn more about JCM and check out his books, YouTube Channel and more at:
Website
Bluesky
Twitter
Facebook
Instagram
YouTube
Also, be sure to see his contribution to Spreading the Self-Pub Love in 2025!
I’m excited talk about today’s release of Turn 7 of The Hybrid Helix series, JCM Berne’s Shield of The Mothership. SF readers, Super-hero fans, Space Opera fans, and people who like to read good books in general should check it out. Here’s a little more about the book to get you interested.
Title: Shield of The Mothership by JCM Berne
Series: The Hybrid Helix, Turn 7
Format: Hardcover/Kindle/Paperback
Length: 477 pg.
Publisher: The Gnost House
US Publication Date: July 22, 2025
Sometimes the enemy of your enemy is still your enemy.
Rohan swore he’d never work for the il’Drach again, never again be called Lance Primary, never again kill or risk the lives of his friends on behalf of the Empire.
But when the safety of the sector is at risk, when inaction could lead to the death of every living thing in the galaxy, he has to work with what he has.
Even if what he has is allies he can’t trust, a mission he doesn’t understand, and the growing suspicion that things are only getting worse.
JCM Berne has reached middle age without outgrowing the notion that superheroes are cool. Code monkey by day, by night he slaves over a hot keyboard to prove that superhero stories can be engaging and funny without being dark or silly.
Website ~ Bluesky ~ Twitter ~ Facebook ~ Instagram ~ YouTube
Mrs. Plansky’s RevengeDETAILS: Series: Mrs. Plansky, #1 Publisher: Forge Publication Date: July 25, 2023 Format: Hardcover Length: 291 pg. Read Date: September 4-5, 2023
“…there’s also what you might call a demotivating factor.”
“Which is?” said Mrs. Plansky. For some reason she was now finding Agent Gatling easy to understand.
“From our point of view the scammers are bad guys, end of story. But to the elite running the show over there the scammers are bad guys who also have a nice little industry going, bringing in the Yankee dollar and lots of ‘em. And to the everyday Joe they’re punching up, the kind of outlaw people have a soft spot for.”
“Like Robin Hood.”
“You got it.”
They gazed at each other. The message was in his eyes, Mrs. Plansky voiced it.
“You’re telling me to lose hope.”
“Not in so many words.”
Mrs. Plansky is enjoying her retirement (however much it’s tainted by the semi-recent death of her husband). Her hip replacement’s healed enough that she can play tennis, and she’s practically back at the level she was before the surgery. Her kids are established in their lives, her grandchildren are doing okay (although she has some concerns about her grandson’s friends and associates). Things are as good as she could’ve wanted.
Then one day, she’s scammed by someone claiming to be her grandson who needs some money for bail. We’ve (probably) heard about versions of this scam—they don’t just get the bail money, they get enough information from her to empty her accounts.
She’s devastated. How is she going to live? How’s she going to help her father, her children, or her grandchildren? Is she going to be able to convince them that they don’t need to worry about her emotional stability or soundness of mind? And what can she do when even the FBI seems to be giving up before they’ve even started?
Well, Mrs. Plansky does what she’s always done—put her nose to the grindstone and get to work. The FBI said something about some small Romanian town, why not start there? So she sells a very nice piece of jewelry and buys a plane ticket. It may be a fool’s errand, but little ventured, little gained, right?
Throughout the book, Mrs. Plansky is identified as “Mrs. Plansky.” Not “Loretta” or “Plansky” as most writers would do after establishing the protagonist’s name. This is how she thinks of herself (although she tells people to call her Loretta all the time). Now, you could come at this with some sort of feminist critique about how her personality/identity has been swallowed by her husband’s or something along those lines. And in some books that would be valid.
But I don’t think that’s the case here (Mr. Quinn, feel free to correct me on this). She just thinks of herself as Norm’s wife. And, I expect, that were he still with us, Norm would think of himself as Loretta’s husband. He’s constantly on her mind as she goes through all this. They had a strong marriage, built a business together (each displaying their own strengths), raised a couple of kids together, and enjoyed a life together (made all the more pleasant by the business taking off and giving them a very comfortable life).
The fact that after his death she still thinks of herself in this way I found particularly sweet. They may have been parted by death, but in many real and tangible ways, they’re still married. It’s a great character point and tells us so much about her without Quinn having to do so. This is not to say that Mrs. Plansky might not consider future romantic entanglements, but she’ll always be Norm’s wife in some sense.
She closed her eyes, resting them, in fact. Giving her eyes a little rest from time to time? That was new in her life. Her eyes had gone along for more than seven decades content to take their rest when the rest of her was resting—team players, the pair of them—but now they were making demands.
Related to that—Mrs. Plansky’s no spring chicken. She’s in great shape for someone of her years and will surprise herself by some of what she’s able to do physically (for example, on the tennis court). At the same time, she’s having to come to grips with the effects of aging—her strength and endurance isn’t what it was, her attention slips from time to time, and her recall might struggle a bit. Everything, basically, is a little more difficult than it used to be. I appreciated the way that Quinn depicted this—not that everything’s falling apart, or that with grit and determination she’s triumphing against the effects of aging, she’s simply noticing and adjusting.
There are moments here and there where this makes Mrs. Plansky (rather, a close third-person narration) slightly unreliable. But Quinn’s spent years writing from the POV of a dog who doesn’t fully understand what humans are doing, and he’s great at depicting that without casting doubt on everything going on and getting the reader to understand things that the protagonist missed.
Overall, the book has a lighter and optimistic tone. Most of that comes from Mrs. Plansky’s character and frame of mind.
But (to go with that character), not all of it is light. There are some dark moments, some real despair and worry. For example, I knew the premise of this book months ago, back when Quinn first announced it. Yet when Mrs. Plansky’s on the phone with the scammer and is giving away too much information, I was reading with one hand over my eyes. Similarly, as she comes to grips with just how bad things are for her—and takes in Agent Gatling’s message about how little hope she has to recover the funds…you can’t help but feel for her.
But when she comes up with a plan and begins to execute it—and enjoys doing so. It’s impossible not to catch that optimism and lightness.
This is a very different flavor than I’ve seen from Quinn before—yes, it shares some elements from his other work (The Right Side and the Chet and Bernie books in particular), but overall, it feels like a new and welcome direction. I mean, it’s welcome here as long as he comes back to Chet and Bernie. There’s a depth, a perspective, and a different kind of character than I’m used to. And a total dearth of animal companions, which is just strange.
I loved most of the characters (even the bad guys). And even (in the case of her children, for example—a sure sign that Mr. and Mrs. Plansky weren’t great at everything) when I didn’t like the characters, I appreciated the way Quinn wrote them. The one exception is her father, who lives in a nearby assisted living facility. I’m not sure that we needed Mrs. Plansky’s father as a character—I think he was supposed to be both comic relief and just one more source of financial pressure for her. I don’t think the comedy worked all that well—and Quinn could’ve given us another source for the pressure.
One quick aside, I’m just curious—between this book and Osman’s Thursday Murder Club books, I’m wondering if there’s a surfeit of charming Eastern European men with a “flexible” understanding of the law running around. Can anyone confirm that?
An implausible, but great story. A revenge fantasy that many people will have had, taken on by a relatable character that you can’t help but root for. There’s plenty of heart to go around, and it’ll just leave you feeling good (as long as you don’t put it down while she’s being ripped off).
If you’ve tried Quinn before and he hasn’t clicked with you, try this one. If you haven’t tried him before, try this one. If you’re not sure you want to read a dog-less book from him, try it. If there’s anyone I haven’t covered in this paragraph—try it.
This post contains an affiliate link. If you purchase from it, I will get a small commission at no additional cost to you. As always, the opinions expressed are my own.
Dogged PursuitDETAILS: Series: Andy Carpenter, #32 Publisher: Minotaur Books Publication Date: July 1, 2025 Format: eARC Length: 288 pg. Read Date: July 3-4, 2025
Andy Carpenter has recently left the Prosecutor’s Office to become a defense lawyer. He’s rented an office, helped one client, and…well, that’s it. His wife is leaning on him to take a job as a corporate lawyer (and her father can get him such a position), but his heart isn’t in it.
He has decided it’s past time for him to get a dog after years of wanting one—so he goes to a shelter, falls head over heels with one, and adopts her. The shelter tells him that his new dog (Carpenter fans know Tara very well at his point) has bonded with the dog she shared a run with. So he offers to adopt her, too. That can’t happen because her owner is in jail awaiting trial. They assure him that if he can get a release from the owner, he can take the dog.
Carpenter fans know at this point that this will be Andy’s first client. People new to the series will probably know this, too. Rosenfelt isn’t playing his cards close to his chest here.
And, hey, what do you know? That’s exactly what happens. The trick is that Andy’s new client is charged with multiple murders—that of his old friend and boss who fired him two weeks previously, and the two people he was giving a ride home to (so they wouldn’t drive after drinking at a corporate party).
The circumstantial case is pretty strong—almost too strong. No one that Andy talks to at his client’s old company could believe he’d be capable of such a thing. And he really seems to care about his dog. Which is enough for Andy to dive in.
He just needs evidence on his side, an investigator to do some work for him, and a clue about how to defend this particular client. But that’ll come, right?
I was surprised when I saw this was a prequel. I don’t know that I ever stopped and wondered, “How did Andy get started in the business?” Particularly as early in his career that book one, Open and Shut, isn’t that far into his career and really serves just as well as an origin story.
That said…this is a really good novel, a solid prequel, and a treat for fans of the series. Let’s take a quick glance at some of the series regulars we meet here:
Tara. You don’t have an Andy Carpenter book without his best friend. Their meeting goes beyond a meet-cute, and watching their relationship blossom is great. Honestly, the rest of this list isn’t necessary, as long as Rosenfelt nailed this one, and it’s no surprise that he did.
Sam. Sam gets a little more “screen time” here than he typically does. This is a-ok with me, Sam’s great. We get some seeds planted for a lot of what we see from this accountant/hacker in the future. What we don’t get—and this is the biggest problem with this book—is the song talking. I get that he and Andy have grown out of it by later books (as odd as it is to think of Andy maturing). I miss it, but I can cope (as well as grumble about it). But they’re not there yet. Something that so characterizes their relationship in the first few books should be here now.
Laurie. Andy meets and hires Laurie here, a wonderful decision on his part. It’s totally platonic, Rosenfelt shows us that Andy is a stand-up guy on that front (as he continues to be). Given where their relationship ends up, I have to give Rosenfelt a lot of credit for keeping it professional. Laurie struggles some (as I think she continues to do for quite a bit) with working for the defense—not as much as say, Harry Bosch does (although she wasn’t working for the PD as long as Bosch did). And that’s good to see, but her adaptability and smarts are on full display.
Pete. Pete and Andy aren’t as friendly as they will one day be. It’s actually nice to see them approach bonding, and the beginning of Andy picking up Pete’s tab.
Nelson Carpenter. We don’t get to see a lot of Andy’s father before his death, so it was really nice to see the healthy relationship here. It’s hard not to like this guy, and you can see why he was such a legend in the legal community in the area.
Edna. Andy hasn’t hired—much less met—Edna at this point, but she’s mentioned to him a few times as someone he should hire. Reading what Andy is told about her, and what we know about her, is one of the best chuckle-generators of this novel.
Nicole. This has to be the trickiest one in the book—the relationship is doomed, we all know this. But neither Andy nor Nicole is ready for it to end. Rosenfelt has to show the crumbling, without showing the last straws—as those straws are still to come. And man…I liked Nicole. I enjoyed seeing her bond with Tara. I liked seeing her interact with Andy; she seems like a pretty good match for him.
In a couple of the more recent books, I’ve wondered if Marcus is losing a bit of what made him such a fun character for the readers because we’ve learned more about him. Is the mystique gone? Is he on the verge of becoming just another member of Andy’s circle?
That question gets set on the back burner for a while—phew—because in this prequel, Marcus is all mystique. Nothing but mystique and mystery.
Okay, let’s set aside all the fun of the prequel stuff. How’s the mystery, the case, the resolution?
Those are just what you want. Andy’s not the cocky, flashy trial lawyer he will become. But you can see it on the horizon. He’s nervous—in and out of the courtroom. He’s not prepared to meet with some of the truly nasty characters he needs to—or the threat they can represent.
There are plenty of twists and a revelation or two at the end that are just satisfying.
There’s not a huge conspiracy with international implications afoot. There’s some criminal activity around the murders that Andy runs across—but it’s not at the heart of the book.
There are some truly good lines (particularly involving Andy’s cowardice and lack of ability to defend himself—always a good place for Rosenfelt to return to). The momentum carries you right along, right up to the surprises at the end.
Throw in Andy and Tara’s relationship? You’ve got a solid book.
I strongly recommend this book to people who’ve read Andy Carpenter in the past (even if you’ve taken a break for whatever reason). If people have seen my glowing posts in the back and haven’t wanted to dive into a series of 30 mid-stream, this is a great place to jump on board. If people have never seen a thing I’ve written about this series before—this is a great place to jump on board, too. Really, there’s no one that I wouldn’t recommend this book to. I thoroughly enjoyed myself, and I think you will, too.
Disclaimer: I received a copy of this book from St. Martin’s Press via NetGalley—thanks to both for this. I apologize for the tardiness.
This post contains an affiliate link. If you purchase from it, I will get a small commission at no additional cost to you. As always, the opinions expressed are my own.
The Great Divorceby C. S. Lewis
DETAILS:
Publisher: Macmillan Publishing Company
Publication Date: 1946
Format: Paperback
Length: 128
Read Date: June 22, 2025
“Then those people are right who say tht Heaven and Hell are only states of mind?”
“Hush,” said he sternly. “Do not blaspheme. Hell is a state of mind—ye never said a truer word, And every state of mind, left to itself, every shutting up of the creature within the dungeon of its own mind—is, in the end, Hell. But Heaven is not a state of mind. Heaven is reality itself. All that is fully real is Heavenly. For all that can be shaken will be shaken and only the unshakable remains.”
Since 1994 (two or three years after I read this for the first time) I haven’t been able to think about, much less read, this book without thinking of this song. So why not let you have it run through your head as you read this?
The conceit of this book is that C.S. Lewis is granted a vision in a dream of the afterlife. He starts out in a miserable place, full of people that could best be described as miserable (although that might be being too kind). He sees a bunch of them waiting for a bus, and since that’s pretty much the only people he can see around, he joins the queue. Before he knows it, he gets one of the last remaining seats.
After a couple of really unpleasant interactions with fellow passengers, the bus comes to a stop and everyone disembarks. They’re near some trees, but mostly there’s a large amount of grassy land near a cliff. Everyone kind of separates and walks around, while others come from a distance toward them. The best way that Lewis can come up with to describe these people is “Bright Ones” or “Solid People.”
They seem more solid and bright than anyone else—who now pretty much seem like disembodied ghosts to Lewis. Meanwhile, the grass is intensely hard and sharp; the trees and rocks are similarly “more real.” Once the Bright Ones arrive, they all head off to talk to individual ghosts—and the interactions that Lewis watches/overhears, the interactions aren’t all that pleasant.
The Bright Ones, it should be stressed, aren’t the problems. They’re patient, kind, and entirely honest. The Ghosts, on the other hand, are nasty, defensive, selfish, and seem to go out of their way to twist the words of the Bright Ones. The Bright Ones are trying to convince the Ghosts to leave these problems—and so many others behind, so they can find true happiness and forgiveness in the City.
Lewis watches some of these, and then is met by his own Bright One, who answers some questions for him about what’s going on.
Okay, that’s more of a summary than I typically give—but the meat of the book isn’t in that outline, it’s in the individual interactions between Bright Ones and the Ghosts.
In his Preface, Lewis stresses that this book is a Fantasy, sure, it’s one with a moral—but it’s Fantasy. “The transmortal conditions are solely an imaginative supposal; they are not even a guess or a speculation of what may actually await us.”
That’s for the best because there are many problems with his vision of the realms—but at the same time, he does a wonderful job of depicting them
The loneliness of Hell/Purgatory* and how the denizens exacerbate the problem continuously to their own detriment is utterly fantastic. Even better is the hyper reality of the outskirts of the City and the Bright Ones. Lewis said he got the idea from some article he read by an American whose name he’d forgotten years before.
Between this book and Perelandra, I’m starting to come to the conclusion that Lewis’ best writing is reserved for him trying to capture Paradise and relate it to his readers. He falls short, obviously, but the way he does communicate either the area around Heaven or a Pre-Fall Venus are so fantastic that I find myself trying to describe the ineffable.
* It’s Hell for those who don’t take the opportunity to repent, Purgatory for those who do. An intriguing way to be able to placate either the Roman Catholic or Protestant in his readership.
On one of the rocks sat a very tall man, almost a giant, with a flowing beard. I had not yet looked one of the Solid People in the face. Now, when I did so, I discovered that one sees them with a kind of double vision. Here was an enthroned and shining god, whose ageless spirit weighed upon mine like a burden of solid gold: and yet, at the very same moment, here was an old weather-beaten man, one who might have been a shepherd—such a man as tourists think simple because he is honest and neighbours think “deep” for the same reason. His eyes had the farseeing look of one who has lived long in open, solitary places; and somehow I divined the network of wrinkles which must have surrounded them before re-birth had washed him in immortality.
Among the many things I forgot about this book is the way that MacDonald serves as Virgil, guiding Lewis around the area, answering many of the questions he has about what he’s seeing and experiencing. Having read Surprised by Joy pretty recently, when he goes into what kind of impact MacDonald made on him really helped underline this part for me.
When so many of the other Ghosts had Bright Spirits appear to them that were someone important to them—mostly family members, Lewis (who isn’t quite a Ghost, but is largely treated as one) gets an author who was instrumental in laying the groundwork for his conversion. A great choice, and a very honest/self-revelatory one.
Never fear. There are only two kinds of people in the end: those who say to God, “Thy will be done,” and those to whom God says, in the end, “Thy will be done.” All that are in Hell, choose it. Without that self-choice there could be no Hell. No soul that seriously and constantly desires joy will ever miss it. Those who seek find. To those who knock it is opened
I absolutely loved this. I remembered liking it, but I was just blown away this read-through.
Yes, I’d quibble with some of the theology here—Lewis and I aren’t going to see eye-to-eye on many things until we both arrive in the City to be corrected (and neither of us will care about that then). But this isn’t a systematic theology, it’s a Fantasy story with apologetic aims. As such, it’s wonderful. And, I’m never going to sneeze at the chance to read Lewis describing a paradise.
And this is not an apologetic work in the way most of his are—he’s not trying to make a case for the thoughtfulness of Christianity, the reasonableness in the belief in miracles, or anything like that. He’s looking at the core of people, how they think; how they react; how in every thought, word, and deed they are selfish; it’s all about self-interest, self-importance, self-worth. They may try to dress it up somehow, but eventually—even if it’s just for a moment, it’s about them. Seeing myself in these ghosts—I assume that most readers do—is not unlike seeing yourself in the words of advice that Screwtape gives to his nephew. Neither is a pleasant experience, but the mirror that Lewis holds before his readers is pretty clear.
Of the works by Lewis that I’ve read this year, this is his best writing, his most subtle thinking, his most heart-opening thoughts. I heartily encourage this one to those who are curious—even if just for the Fantasy of it all.
This post contains an affiliate link. If you purchase from it, I will get a small commission at no additional cost to you. As always, the opinions expressed are my own.
I’m not going to finish the post today that I meant to put up yesterday. So…let’s look at this again (all but the third prompt are still valid). I’ve been thinking a lot about the Fantasy genre. Might as well keep the trend going…
I saw this over at Bookstooge’s Reviews on the Road, and it seemed like a fun way to revisit some Fantasy Favorites, and indulge in a bit of nostalgia while I was at it.
Play along, will ya?
The Lies of Locke Lamora
I’ve read this at least 4 times and love it more each time. A Con Novel, a Heist Novel, a story of Found Family and vengence gone wrong (and, right, if you think that’s possible). I can’t get enough of Book I of the Gentleman Bastard Sequence. It’s fun, it’s suspenseful, good fight scenes, and characters you want to spend more time with.
Oh, and the fantasy world is pretty cool, too 🙂
(I have a very short post about it here)
The Chronicles of PrydainThe Chronicles of Narnia made me a Lewis fan. The Chronicls of Prydain turned me into a Fantasy fan (which is why I had to use the covers I owned as a kid). Yeah, it’s written for what we’d call today a Middle Grade audience, but when I listened to the audiobooks a year or two ago (or when I read them to my kids a decade ago), I thought it was just about as effective as you could hope. A little bit of fun, a dash of romance, a hero quest straight out of Campbell, a decent amount of magic (but not too much), a good mythic basis—and a oracular pig! It’s also probably the series that taught me that you’ll end up having emotional attachments to characters to the extent you may get teary about when they die and/or say good-bye to each other (and, yeah, did as an adult).
(my posts about the audiobook series)
Bloody RoseI tried to read this last year, and failed. I’m hoping to read it this year, and am likely to fail. I less-than-three’d Kings of the Wyld (in print and audio) so much, I don’t know why I haven’t made the time for the sequel.
The Brothers ThreeThe first of The Blackwood Saga is everything I loved about portal fantasies as a kid—but it’s written for adults. Some good characters, a good amount of growth (especially in the later books in the series), good fight scenes and a pretty cool world to explore. This worked for me in ways I didn’t expect—and the sequels have done a good job building on this one. I’ve yet to read the newest in the series, but this one feels like a good comfort-read if I needed one.
The Warlock in Spite of Himself(I probably would’ve gone with Brooks’ The Magic Kingdom for Sale, but Bookstooge beat me to it in his post).
I honestly remember very little about this novel, despite having read it several times. But the last time was probably in 1990-91. I was able to find a couple of the later novels in the series, too—just not enough for me at the time (I probably could now—yay, Internet). Still, somehow this is what sprang to mind when I thought of a fantasy on another world. A cool combination of SF and fantasy, as I recall.
The Hum and the Shiver(and the rest of the series, too, but this is good enough—as good as many series hope to be in itself)
A magical people with amazing musical talent in the Smoky Mountains, dealing with modernization, an Iraqi war vet, and a feud going back generations. I’m not a believer in magic, but Bledsoe makes me want to with these books—this is the best of a great series, and thinking about it now has got me thinking it might be time for read #4 of this one.
As for the tagging . . . nah, I’ll just leave this open to all my readers, I’d love to see what you all would put here. (W&S Book Club, here’s another chance to talk about The Dragonlance Chronicles—you’re welcome)
Return to SenderDETAILS: Series:Walt Longmire, #21 Publisher: Viking Publication Date: May 27, 2025 Format: Hardcover Length: 321 pg. Read Date: May 30-June 2, 2025
“You know this is how you’re going to get yourself killed, right? Something stupid like this?”
“I hope not.”
“I’m serious. It’s when you least suspect it, Walt.”
For the previous twenty books, we’ve learned a lot about Martha, Walt’s late wife. We learn a little more about her here—she had a cousin who is now the Postal Inspector for Wyoming. Sure, this doesn’t give us a lot of insight into her as a person—but it does allow this cousin, Mike Thurmin, to call upon Walt for a favor.
A few months ago, a postal worker who carries mail on the longest route in the U.S., 307 miles, disappeared from the face of the Earth. Law enforcement has written it off as an adult willingly leaving her home, her boyfriend has sold off pretty much everything she left behind, but her supervisor/friend isn’t satisfied. And that lack of satisfaction worked its way up to Thurman—who roped Walt into looking for her.
It’s possible, if not likely, that Blair McGowan’s boyfriend is behind her disappearance (he’s certainly unpleasant enough that you can see why many people would speculate about it); she’s an activist, and it’s possible she’s irked someone powerful; there’s a lot that can happen in 307 miles; or the aliens she claimed that abducted her a few years ago came back and picked her up again. Walt’s pretty sure it’s something else, but he has to look into things.
This book pretty much has three acts—let’s take a quick look at them.
In this part, we get the lay of the land and meet the essential characters. Walt tries to go undercover as a postal carrier brought in to cover for Blair temporarily (at least). While doing so, he makes some attempts to investigate—many of which lead people to believe he’s not a postal carrier.
Still, Walt and Dog have some interesting encounters with people in and around the Red Desert of Wyoming. There’s a little bit of consultation with Vic over the phone, and she (and a few others) repeatedly remind Walt to get to Cheyenne for a reception that is important to Cady.
Vic, Cady, Ruby, and Lola feature prominently in the second act (although we don’t get to really see Lola)—with a quick chat or two with Lucian and Henry. It’s all about the change in Wyoming government—a new governor and a prospective promotion for the greatest legal mind of our time.
That promotion to A.G. is complicated by her father’s position in the state—both as a sheriff of one county and his prominence in the law enforcement community.
It breaks up the search for McGowan, it moves some storylines forward, but it largely feels out of place in this book. Still, it was good to see these things move forward a little (and we can assume it will continue to do so).
That dealt with, the search for Blair picks back up in earnest. There’ve been a few developments while Walt was in Cheyenne, but Walt has reason to question them—and a greater determination to get to the bottom of things.
This Act takes up the majority of the book, and we learn a lot more about almost everyone we were introduced to in the first Act. There’s a lot of action, some fun new characters are introduced, and Walt is pushed to the limits physically and maybe mentally.
We really have to go back a few books for me to enjoy things as much as I enjoyed this portion of the book, really. I’m thinking Daughter of the Morning Star or Next to Last Stand. The first two parts felt more like Johnson was getting warmed up, and then things really kicked into gear when Walt came back.
Dog rarely gets to shine in this series—he’s largely just a presence to receive a pat or two, to scarf down some food, and maybe to intimidate someone. But when he does get the spotlight—as he does a few times in Return to Sender—it’s a lot of fun. He’s almost too good to be true, but honestly—who cares? Johnson keeps it pretty grounded (much more so than the ghost of Virgil that might pop up here and there).
For a lot of this book, it’s Walt and Dog against the world—and there are few dogs that can carry that weight.
There’s some movement on the part from First Frost about the disappearance of Ruth One Heart. But that’s pretty much all I can cover.
I watched my family members enjoying themselves and then asked. “Lucian, how did you know it was time to hang up your star?”
“You came along.”
“No, seriously.”
“l am being serious.” He stopped and turned to look at me. “When I saw the county would be in good hands, I stepped down and never bad a second thought.”
“I don’t think I have that luxury. Saizarbitoria isn’t ready, and the voters won’t elect Vic.”
He smiled. “Maybe if you gag her.”
Walt’s retirement has been discussed a lot recently, and it seems like it’ll come up more (up until he actually puts in his papers).
Now, I was fully entertained—but also frustrated by Johnson—in the first two Acts. But I have few quibbles or frustrations with the rest. I do wonder about Walt’s ability to do everything physically that he did—but what’s the point of being able to suspend disbelief if you don’t do it occasionally? And there’s much to be said for the combination of adrenaline, necessity, and stubbornness.
Walt vs. nature; Walt vs. big odds; Walt’s determination to do the right thing even when he’s on his own. These are all hallmarks of the best of this series. We got them all, with some great character moments for friends old and new.
What’s not to like? This would work as a jumping-on point for the series (Johnson says every book should work like that, but I beg to differ). For fans? It’s a must read.
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(updated and revised this 5/26/25)
I’ve been trying for a few years now to come up with a tribute to Adams. This isn’t quite what I had in mind, but it’s a start. In my mind, this is a work in progress (a multiple-year project), but I’m posting it anyway. Next year’s version will be better—or at least more complete.
Some time in 7th or 8th grade (I believe), I was at a friend’s house and his brother let us try his copy of the text-based Hitchhiker’s Guide game, and we were no good at it at all. Really, it was embarrassing. However, his brother had a copy of the first novel, and we all figured that the novel held the keys we needed for success with the game (alas, it did not help us one whit). My friends all decided that I’d be the one to read the book and come back in a few days as an expert.
I fell in love with the book almost instantly, and I quickly forgot about the game. Adams’ irreverent style rocked my world—could people actually get away with saying some of these things? His skewed take on the world, his style, his humor…and a depressed robot, too! It was truly love at first read. As I recall, I started re-reading it as soon as I finished it—the only time in my life I’ve done that sort of thing.
Also, I finally understood that song, “Marvin, I Love You,” that I kept hearing on Dr. Demento.
It was one of those experiences that, looking back, I can say shaped my reading and thinking for the rest of my life (make of that what you will). Were my life the subject of a Doctor Who or Legends of Tomorrow episode, it’d be one of those immutable fixed points. I got my hands on the next three books as quickly as I could (the idea of a four-volume trilogy was one of the funniest ideas I’d encountered up to that point), and devoured them. I do know that I didn’t understand all of the humor, several of the references shot past me at the speed of light, and I couldn’t appreciate everything that was being satirized. But what I did understand, I thought was brilliant. Not only did I find it funny, the series taught me about comedy—how to construct a joke, how to twist it in ways a reader wouldn’t always expect, and when not to twist but to go for the obviously funny idea. The trilogy also helped me to learn to see the absurdity in life.
Years later, when the final volume (by Adams) was released, I’d already cemented what I thought about the books from these frequent re-reads. I’m not sure that Mostly Harmless changed things much (except for making me think for the first time that maybe I didn’t want him to write more in this series). His non-Hitchhiker’s work illustrated that he was capable of making you see things in a new light–either with a smile or a sense of regret—even when he wasn’t writing the trilogy, even when he was writing non-fiction. It was never the setting or the genre—it was Adams.
But here on Towel Day—as with most of the time I talk about Adams (but I need to change that), it comes down to where I started—the Trilogy. I read the books (particularly the first) so many times that I can quote significant portions of them, and frequently do so without noticing that I’m doing that. I have (at this time) two literary-inspired tattoos, one of which is the planet logo* featured on the original US covers. In essence, I’m saying that Adams and the series that made him famous have had an outsized influence on my life and are probably my biggest enduring fandom. If carrying around a (massively useful) piece of cloth for a day in some small way honors his memory? Sure, I’m in.
So, Happy Towel Day, You Hoopy Froods.
* I didn’t know it at the time, but Adams didn’t like that guy. Whoops.
(updated and revised this 5/26/25)
The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy has a few things to say on the subject of towels.
A towel, it says, is about the most massively useful thing an interstellar hitchhiker can have. Partly it has great practical value. You can wrap it around you for warmth as you bound across the cold moons of Jaglan Beta; you can lie on it on the brilliant marble-sanded beaches of Santraginus V, inhaling the heady sea vapors; you can sleep under it beneath the stars which shine so redly on the desert world of Kakrafoon; use it to sail a miniraft down the slow heavy River Moth; wet it for use in hand-to-hand-combat; wrap it round your head to ward off noxious fumes or avoid the gaze of the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal (such a mind-bogglingly stupid animal, it assumes that if you can’t see it, it can’t see you); you can wave your towel in emergencies as a distress signal, and of course dry yourself off with it if it still seems to be clean enough.
More importantly, a towel has immense psychological value. For some reason, if a strag (strag: non-hitch hiker) discovers that a hitch hiker has his towel with him, he will automatically assume that he is also in possession of a toothbrush, face flannel, soap, tin of biscuits, flask, compass, map, ball of string, gnat spray, wet weather gear, space suit etc., etc. Furthermore, the strag will then happily lend the hitch hiker any of these or a dozen other items that the hitch hiker might accidentally have “lost”. What the strag will think is that any man who can hitch the length and breadth of the galaxy, rough it, slum it, struggle against terrible odds, win through, and still knows where his towel is is clearly a man to be reckoned with.
Hence a phrase that has passed into hitchhiking slang, as in “Hey, you sass that hoopy Ford Prefect? There’s a frood who really knows where his towel is.” (Sass: know, be aware of, meet, have sex with; hoopy: really together guy; frood: really amazingly together guy.)
Towel Day was yesterday, May 25, but I’m going to observe it today (in the tradition of all Weekend Holidays in the U.S>0
Towel Day, for the few who don’t know, is the annual celebration of Douglas Adams’ life and work. It was first held two weeks after his death, fans were to carry a towel with them for the day to use as a talking point to encourage those who have never read HHGTTG to do so, or to just converse with someone about Adams. Adams is one of that handful of authors that I can’t imagine I’d be the same without having encountered/read/re-read/re-re-re-re-read, and so I do my best to pay a little tribute to him each year, even if it’s just carrying around a towel.
In commemoration of this date, here’s most of what I’ve written about Adams. I’ve struggled to come up with new material to share for Towel Day over the years, mostly sticking with updating and revising existing posts. And, this year is no exception A few years back, I did a re-read of all of Adams’ (completed) fiction. For reasons beyond my ken (or recollection), I didn’t get around to blogging about the Dirk Gently books, but I did do the Hitchhiker’s Trilogy:
The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy
The Restaurant at the End of the Universe
Life, The Universe and Everything
So Long, and Thanks For All The Fish
Mostly Harmless
I had a thing or two to say about the 40th Anniversary of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy
I took a look at the 42nd Anniversary Illustrated Edition of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy
I should also point to a posts I wrote about Douglas Adams’ London by Yvette Keller and 42: The Wildly Improbable Ideas of Douglas Adams edited by Kevin Jon Davies—both are great ways of filling out one’s understanding of Adams and his work. I have to mention the one book that Adams/Hitchhiker’s aficionado needs to read is Don’t Panic by Neil Gaiman, David K. Dickson and MJ Simpson.
If you’re more in the mood for a podcast, I’d suggest The Waterstones Podcast How We Made: The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy—I’ve listened to several podcast episodes about this book, and generally roll my eyes at them. But this is just fantastic. Were it available, I’d listen to a Peter Jackson-length version of the episode.
I’ve only been able to get one of my sons into Adams, he’s the taller, thinner one in the picture from a few several years ago. 
(although I did get he and his younger siblings to use their towels to make themselves safe from the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal a few years earlier:)
You really need to check out this comic from Sheldon Comics—part of the Anatomy of Authors series: The Anatomy of Douglas Adams.
Lit in a Nutshell gives this quick explanation of The Hitchiiker’s Guide:
TowelDay.org is the best collection of resources on the day. One of my favorite posts there is this pretty cool video, shot on the ISS by astronaut Samantha Cristoforetti.
Even better—here’s an appearance by Douglas Adams himself from the old Letterman show—I’m so glad someone preserved this:
Love the anecdote (Also, I want this tie.)
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