Category: Authors Page 89 of 123

Reread Project: Life, The Universe and Everything by Douglas Adams

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On April 21, 2016

In A-B, Authors, Douglas Adams, Fiction, Reread Project, Science Fiction, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

Life, The Universe and EverythingLife, The Universe and Everything

by Douglas Adams
Series: The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy Trilogy, #3

Paperback, 232 pg.
Del Rey, 2005

Read: April 18, 2016

“One of the interesting things about space,” Arthur heard Slartibartfast saying . . . “is how dull it is?”

“Dull?” . . .

“Yes,” said Slartibartfast, “staggeringly dull. Bewilderingly so. You see, there’s so much of it and so little in it.”

Between General Busy-ness and having a hard time locating a reading copy of this book (I have one leather-bound edition of the “trilogy” pre-Mostly Harmless that I’m trying not to further abuse and a 1st edition that I really don’t want to abuse at all), I didn’t get to reading this one on schedule. I was briefly tempted to write this up from memory — and I think I’d have hit 80% of the same things, but that seemed dis-honest, somehow.

Also, I really wanted to read the Belgiuming thing (if you’ll pardon the expression)

Thankfully, the Nampa Library came through. So, yeah, a little late and without further ado…

Sigh. This one just doesn’t work as well as its predecessors, does it? You can sense how hard Adams is trying to recapture the sensibility of the previous two novels — but it just comes across like someone trying (or locked in a hotel room by his editor until he’s done, which I believe is what happened here). For example, look at the concept of Bistromathic Drive, if that’s not a desperate attempt to remake the Infinite Improbability Drive, I’m a frood who doesn’t know where his towel is. And then the whole Krikkit saga? Don’t get me started with that.

Which is not to say that this doesn’t have some good moments — most of Ford’s dialogue is great. The whole thing with Agrajag is both a great call-back and a fun diversion. The best part of the book (both in concept and execution) has to be:

The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy has this to say on the subject of flying.

There is an art, it says, or rather, a knack to flying.

The knack lies in learning how to throw yourself at the ground and miss.

It goes on for quite a while after this — and I love every bit of it.

I had forgotten Marvin’s arc in this — I enjoyed that more than the rest (even if it wasn’t as good as his arc in Restaurant). It’s the best use of Trillian in the series, bar none. So, it wasn’t a total wash. Still, it felt forced, his heart didn’t seem to be in it. Which made us even, I guess, my heart sure wasn’t. Still, Adams on an off-day is better than most things.

—–

3 Stars

Every Heart a Doorway by Seanan McGuire

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On April 19, 2016

In Fantasy, Fiction, K-O, Seanan McGuire, Wayward Children

Every Heart a DoorwayEvery Heart a Doorway

by Seanan McGuire
Series: Wayward Children, #1

Hardcover, 169 pg.
Tor.com, 2016

Read: April 16, 2016

“. . . we went through. We came out on this moor that seemed to go on forever, between the mountains and the angry sea. And that sky! I’d never seen so many stars before, or such a red, red moon. The door slammed shut behind us. We couldn’t have gone back if we’d wanted to — and we didn’t want to. We were twelve. We are going to have an adventure if it killed us.”

“Did you? asked Nancy. “Have an adventure, I mean?”

“Sure,” said Jack bleakly. “It didn’t even kill us. Not permanently anyway. But it changed everything.”

One of my favorite book bloggers to read (and not just because our tastes are similar) began his take on Every Heart a Doorway by saying:

Sometimes we either meet a book (or a novella, in this case,) that is precisely the right fit for your soul, (at the moment,) or just happens to be original enough right when you need it, that it fills your life and your mind with brightness and joy.

For me, this is one of those pieces. To muddy the waters even more, I’m an unabashed fan of the author and I’m likely to pick up all of her writings without even checking the subject matter because I simply trust the woman to steer me to any shore.

If I didn’t start off by quoting that, I’d end paraphrasing/plagiarizing it.

So here’s the deal in a world where portal fantasies are possible, and children all over the world are going through them — à la Lucy Pevensie et al., Dorothy Gale, September, Quentin Coldwater, Alice, Jason Walker, etc. — and, sadly (?) most of these children end up back home. Some of them are glad to be back in this world and want to put their adventures behind them — a lot of them don’t want to be here anymore and want to return to wherever it was they went. Both kinds of children have a hard time coping in this world and need help. Eleanor West’s Home for Wayward Children is for the latter kind.

Nancy is a girl recently returned, and is very different than the girl her parents have been missing. They want her fixed, they want their daughter back — not whoever this person is with different attitudes, actions, clothes, etc. — West doesn’t promise that (but she may have allowed them to think she’ll do that, just so she can help Nancy), but she can help Nancy adjust to this world. So she joins the small student body at the private school/treatment center. The last thing Nancy wants is to be fixed, to be that girl again — which just means she fits in here, with returned kids from all over the country, who’ve been in all sorts of worlds. As Nancy begins to understand the nature of these other worlds, the effects they have on children, and why many of them want to leave again, so do we.

It turns out, all of the residents of West’s Home are going to learn that you can have plenty of adventures here, too. And that’s all I’m going to say about that.

I really liked all of these children — the adults we met, too, actually — Jack in particular. But every one of them — even the less-than-nice ones — are great characters and I’d have gladly spent another 200 pages with them, easy.

The writing is incredible — not that I’ve ever had any real problems with McGuire before, but she kicked it up a notch here — and is writing a different kind of story than I’m used to, so she writes differently. This book took me longer to read than it should’ve, because I had to go back and reread several sentences/lines/paragraphs — not because I needed to read them again for clarification, but because they were so perfect, so quotable, so . . . something. I’m not going to start quoting beyond what I opened with, because I don’t know if I could stop — Laura got two of them I made notes about. You could literally be amused, melancholy, horrified, feeling whimsy, and nervous within a couple of paragraphs — only to turn the page and start all over again. Not because she was jerking you around or anything, it’s just that kind of story, that kind of playing with language, just that kind of broken reality.

McGuire gave us such a satisfying ending — complete, tidy, fitting, bittersweet, heartwarming — and then I read another paragraph or so, and it’s so much better (and all of the above to the next degree) once you got to the actual ending. Then I closed the book and I teared up a little — for no reason at all, really, but it felt really appropriate.

Can I say this is positively Gaiman-esque without making it sound like McGuire’s derivative in any way? I don’t want to even hint at suggesting that — but man, if you like Neil Gaiman’s stuff — get this. If you’ve ever read a portal fantasy and wondered what happened to the kids afterwards– get this. If you like things that are good, and don’t mind magic in your reading — get this.

—–

5 Stars

Chaos Choreography by Seanan McGuire

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On April 14, 2016

In InCryptid, K-O, Seanan McGuire, Urban Fantasy

Chaos ChoreographyChaos Choreography

by Seanan McGuire
Series: InCryptid, #5

Mass Market Paperback, 345 pg.
DAW, 2016

Read: March 24 – 25, 2016

Hey, wow, who’d have thunk it — a positive review of a Seanan McGuire novel from The Irresponsible Reader?!? Next thing, I’ll be telling you that the sky is blue, water is wet and J. J. Abrams likes lens flares. But what do you want from me? Seanan McGuire is a great author who consistently puts out fun reads. The only reason that she hasn’t taken over the world yet is that she doesn’t want to.

Oh, spoiler alert: I’m probably going to be giving very positive reviews to two other McGuire works in the next week or two.

So what can I say about this one? It’s probably the most enjoyable, most entertaining, most emotionally resonant, best all-around entry in the InCryptid series to date.

Verity and Dominic are living with her parents, which is going about as well as you could expect, and trying to get used to life outside of NYC when Verity gets a call from the reality show she came thiiiiiis close to winning before we met her in Discount Armageddon (well, her cover identity got a call, technically). They’re doing a best-of season, and need her to round out the cast.

Next thing they know, they’re working up a new cover for Dominic and heading for L. A. Where we meet Verity’s long-lost besties, a would-be frenemy (if anyone took her seriously), and a few cryptids.

We get the return of the lady Dragons — both the group we met in Discount as well as L.A.’s very own, plus a few others. The cryptid cultures of L. A. (and the West in general) developed in very interesting ways. Sadly, one of the things that seems to be pretty popular are snake cults — there’s one that seems to be pretty serious about things and are using human sacrifices to power a spell.

Which means that Verity has to do a little more than just dance, she has to find the cultists before it’s too late. She calls upon friends new and old, Dominic, even the Aeslin mice and a Price that we’ve heard of, just never met. Leading to a final confrontation that’s one for the ages — and nothing will be the same again for the Prices family. I’m not so sure that it’ll be the same again for anyone.

I’d happily read about any and all of the new cryptids we meed here again, and most of the humans, too (not the evil ones, just for the record). McGuire’s assembled a great bunch of characters for this one.

I love the fact that not only do we get to see the Aeslin mice developing new religious celebrations, but we see them in action — putting their tiny little lives on the line to save the day. I also like to see Verity coming to grips with the choices she’s been making the last few years, what that means for her, and what place dancing and the rest have in her life.

Major kudos to McGuire for getting me to give a rip — not much of one, but still — about dance competitions. I don’t get dance — I mean dancing, I get. I’m no good at it, but I get. But watching dance — any form – I just don’t see the appeal. But for a few pages here and there I was almost interested in Verity’s other career. That’s a pretty major accomplishment.

Now I’ve just got to settle in and wait a year for lil’ sister Antimony’s first novel. Is it 2017 yet?

—–

4 Stars

Waylaid by Kim Harrison

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On April 8, 2016

In F-J, Fiction, Kim Harrison, Science Fiction, The Hollows (Rachel Morgan), The Peri Reed Chronicles, Urban Fantasy

WaylaidWaylaid

by Kim Harrison
Series: The Peri Reed Chronicles/The Hollows

Kindle Single, 87 pg.
Pocket Star, 2016

Read: April 5, 2016


In her Foreword, Harrison says, “Waylaid still reads like self-made fan fiction to me, ” thereby denying book bloggers and other amateur reviewers the opportunity to use that label. Which is a shame, because that’d be a great way to sum it up. Thankfully, it saves us all from making the same joke.

In a move as classic as Uncle Jesse visiting Los Angeles to say “howdy” to Enos*, Harrison brings much beloved Rachel Morgan into the new, awesome, and in much need of publicity world of Peri Reed. Set sometime after the main events of The Witch with No Name (but not necessarily the last chapter), and before The Drafter, Waylaid will serve as a great introduction for fans of Morgan’s series.

A drunken mishap, inspired by a silly Urban Fantasy TV show (that I’d totally watch), results in Jack summoning Rachel in to Peri’s apartment. Jack and Peri assume she’s a counter-agent who’d been waiting for them to return to attack. Rachel has no clue who they are other than nitwits who summoned her away from a date and started attacking her. It doesn’t take her long to realize that her magic doesn’t work, and wherever she is, it’s a world she doesn’t recognize — Detroit still exists, people have technology she can only dream about, and the ley lines are deader than Arizona back home. The clock’s ticking and Peri and Rachel have to team up to get Rachel back home.

It’s silly, it’s fun — it’s pretty faithful to both series, it hopefully helps boost sales of The Drafter and its sequel.

I don’t really a lot to say without getting pretty heavy into spoilers, but I thought it was worth the pittance I spent on it, probably a little more. Fans of Harrison should give it a shot.

* I just revealed my age there, I know. I also know there are older examples, but that’s the first in my memory.

—–

3 Stars

The Shootout Solution (Audiobook) by Michael R. Underwood, Mary Robinette Kowal

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On March 30, 2016

In Fiction, Genrenauts, Michael R. Underwood, Science Fiction

The Shootout SolutionThe Shootout Solution

by Michael R. Underwood, Mary Robinette Kowal
(Narrator)
Series: Genrenauts, Episode 1

Unabridged Audiobook, 3 hours and 25 minutes
Macmillan Audio, 2015
Read: March 23, 2016


I thoroughly enjoyed the story about Leah Tang’s introduction to the wonderful and crazy world of the Genrenauts — and it’s sequel — when I read it last November. When heading out for a road trip, I figured it’d be a good distraction from the road for my wife, son and I. It’s a fun story, filled with characters you want to root for on an adventure that we all would like to take. I mean seriously, a rocketship ride to the Old West? Sign me up.

For me, this time it was a little easier to grasp the explanations given for what the team is up to — the new reality (better, realities) that Leah finds herself in this time out. Partially because I already knew it, partially because I find that kind of thing easier to digest when I hear it (so why don’t I listen to more audiobooks?)

On the whole, I was really impressed with Kowal’s narration. My wife and I weren’t crazy about her characterization of King — the voice was hard to understand, I really didn’t think it matched the description Underwood gave. I had virtually no other complaints — and in fact, really enjoyed her work. It was a little hard for me to deal with the fact that it took nearly three-and-a-half hours to get through, I’m used to spending a lot less time with Underwood’s works (most of them, anyway). But I did appreciate being forced to soak in the world, think about things a bit more than I would have on my own.

I was hoping we’d get through the second installment as well, but we weren’t able to squeeze that in. I’m curious what Kowall did with some of the characters we meet there, and hope I can figure out a time to get to it soon.

If you liked the novella — or if you think you’d like the book, but haven’t gotten around to grabbing it, the audiobook is well worth the small investment of time and money.

—–

4 Stars

A Few Quick Questions With…M. T. Miller

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On March 16, 2016

In A Few Quick Questions With..., Books, Fantasy, M. T. Miller, News/Misc., Writing

I posted about M. T. Millers’s Risen: First Book of the Nameless Chronicle yesterday (if you didn’t read it, take a moment now — or skip what I said and go get the book). Miller was kind enough to participate in a Q&A with me. I asked some Risen-specific questions and then a couple less-so. I kept it short and sweet, because I’d rather he work on his next book than take too much time with me, y’know?

What got you into writing? Who are some of your major influences? (whether or not you think those influences can be seen in your work — you know they’re there)
Misfortune got me into writing. Due to an unforeseen death, me and my SO found ourselves severely lacking in currency, so I took a ghostwriting gig to plug the leak and save the ship. After some time, having seen quite a bit of the more popular stuff first hand, I decided I was just as good. Time will tell if I was right.

As for my major influences, I’d say those would be George R. R. Martin, Scott Lynch, and on a less conventional note, whoever it is that did the story for the Nier/Drakengard series of games. I think his name is Yoko Taro. I see their presence quite clearly in my work. Martin taught me how to swing the axe, but to do it effectively as opposed to liberally. Lynch helped me with the same thing, but did so with the wit and style I can only hope to match some day. As for Yoko Taro, well. . . he taught me how to handle unhinged characters in a way that works.
How many stories do you have in mind for this? I assume you know what’s going on with Nameless — who he is, where he’s from, what kind of supernatural being he is and so on — how hard is it to give your readers bits and pieces of this information here and there? How long before he figures it all out? Sister Chastity seemed to know — did she? (feel free to not answer those last two — or to make your answer as teasing as you want)
The whole story is planned to run for some six installments, each longer and more complex than the last. For instance, book two will be roughly twice the size of the first one. Of course, I might increase or decrease the number in the future by splitting or fusing story arcs. We’ll see.

I’ve found it much easier than expected, and more fun for that matter, to spread little clues about. I’m not a very subtle person; I go straight for the throat, and I feared that the whole mystery thing would suffer for it. Luckily, I seem to have gotten it under control. At least for now.

Several big reveals will happen sooner than you might think, but answers always come with more questions.

The Sister has seen her fair share of weirdness, but her relation to the Nameless was more defined by his charity than what she knew or didn’t know.
In the writing of Risen, what was the biggest surprise about the writing itself? Either, “I can’t believe X is so easy!” or “If I had known Y was going to be so hard, I’d have skipped this and watched more TV”.
I never expected the epilogue to come out as good as it did. I wrote it in one sitting, and it came out absolutely perfect. It still gives me the chills.
“Horace” is a great name, but not a common one — is there a story behind your selection of it?
There’s a story behind every name, even the lack of one. For me, the name “Horace” invokes the Old West, the American Civil War, and the like. Given that the Nameless Chronicle is more or less “Old West meets apocalyptic fantasy,” it just felt right.

Dead is Better by Jo Perry

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On March 16, 2016

In Charlie & Rose Investigate, Dogs, Fiction, Jo Perry, Mystery/Detective Fiction/Crime Fiction/Thriller

Dead is BetterDead is Better

by Jo Perry
Series: Charlie & Rose Investigate, #1

Kindle, 282 pg.
Fahrenheit Press, 2016

Read: March 12 – 14, 2016

In its young life, Fahrenheit Press has put out some great looking titles, not your typical mystery fare. I’ve only read 2 (bought 1 other), so far — but they’ve shared the off-kilter flavor that the Press’ twitter feed/publicity displays (and descriptions for the other books indicate). I don’t typically talk about publishers when I’m talking about books, but there’s something about Fahrenheit’s project — and the books they put out — that draws your attention. Dead is Better is typical of FP — a mix of darkness and light, unlikely protagonists, unlikely crime-solvers, and atypical crimes (at least as far as crime fiction goes).

Charles Stone is our protagonist, but he’s not really the character that will grab your imagination. That’d be Rose — but we’ll get to her in a moment. Charles is dead — very dead, shot several times. His ghost carries the wounds, as well as the clothing, even the hospital ID bracelet, from the time he died. He can’t remember the shooting however, and can’t think of a reason why he’d be shot. He’s (to his reckoning) no one important, and it doesn’t seem anyone around him even cares enough to kill him/arrange for his killing. After a little bit, he starts to come up with a possible motive or two. But his murder doesn’t seem to be the thing he’s most curious about. What he’d really like to know is, why does he have a constant companion?

Rose is a dog. Well, technically, she was a dog, now she’s the ghost of one. We don’t know why she’s alongside Charles, but she’s been with him the entire time he’s been a ghost. It seems that she had a really unpleasant life; and at last, in Charles, has someone caring for her. Rose is not going to challenge Crais’ Maggie, Quinn’s Chet, or Hearne’s Oberon anytime soon as the greatest dog in fiction — which is not a dig. Rose is great, she’s just not legendary. Rose does have one thing going for her that the other’s don’t — she’s pretty realistic (not that the others don’t have their moments — but even Maggie gets Point-of-View chapters), she can only communicate through suggestion — and even then, the people around her have to guess. Sometimes, they guess wrong.

The two begin investigating Charles’ murder — with the occasional glance at his family and former life. But before long, Charles becomes convinced he’s not around to look into his death, but something else. Rose, somehow, seems to know more about what’s going on than Charles, but he’s the one who needs to do the work. The pair do uncover some answers — and others uncover some others (I’m not convinced that all the answers the readers/Charles are given about anything beyond the main crime are correct, but . . . ).

More importantly, Charles finds a measure of redemption — sure, it might be too late, but nevertheless, there is some. You get the idea that if he maybe had a dog while living, he might’ve turned out to be a better person. Sure, that describes most of humanity to me, so I responded to that, but I think Perry sells it well enough that just about anyone would.

I’ve often thought of trying to do an Urban Fantasy for NaNoWriMo featuring a ghost, but I’ve never figured how to bridge the communication gap between the living and the dead without it feeling like a cheat. I liked Perry’s solution to this (I worry about the sequel repeating it — but that’s not my problem, is it?). I’m not convinced that the police could’ve/would’ve used the information that Charles got to them, but in the moment — you don’t care, you’re just glad that someone did something.

This is a fast and lean read — Perry doesn’t waste a word (actually leaves a couple of them out, but nothing too distracting). You’ll grow to like Charles, you’ll want to adopt Rose, and you’ll want to finds out what happens to them next. Thankfully, their story will continue in Dead is Best.

—–

4 Stars

Risen by M. T. Miller

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On March 15, 2016

In Fantasy, Fiction, M. T. Miller

RisenRisen: First Book of the Nameless Chronicle

by M. T. Miller
Series: The Nameless Chronicle, #1

Kindle, 87 pg.
2016

Read: March 11, 2016


This kicks off with one of my favorite first chapters in months. Sure, it only takes a second or two to know what’s going on in it, but it’s really well done, even if it isn’t a mystery (I’m not sure it was supposed to be, but it seemed that way). Risen grabbed me right off and didn’t let go until the end.

Our protagonist is suffering some sort of amnesia — he doesn’t know who he is, where he is — even when he is. He finds himself in a city that’s definitely seen better days. It’s pretty much the poster child for dystopian ruins — Chicago in Divergent, for example. But with fewer people (maybe).

He enlists the assistance of a homeless man to guide him through both the culture and geography of this city and the surrounding. They encounter a street gang that seems to run just about all the city, a severely under-staffed church that seems to be just about the only place in town not run by the gang, and an extended family (of sorts) that lives outside the city.

And by “encounter,” on the whole, I’m speaking of the violent type. Nameless remembers very little, but he seems to remember how to fight. Each fight does tell us a little more about the world and Nameless, so they’re not just fun bits of gratuitous violence.

There’s some supernatural stuff going on (not just in this city, but on the other side of the country), possibly Spiritual forces (in the religious sense), and . . . who knows what all, really?

All this is told with grim humor and a strong narrative voice that keeps the reader engaged in the story and characters — not just in the “I wonder what’s going on in this strange world” kind of way. Even knowing practically nothing about Nameless (making me a lot like him), I liked him as a character and want to read more about him.

My one complaint is length — just about everything is too short. The story is too short, most of the scenes are, too. But I’m pretty sure that’s just my wanting more for myself — to give us longer scenes would ruin the pacing, would mess with the way Miller’s constructing the series. And really, when you get down to it “I wanted more!” is more of a compliment than a complaint — but I’m calling it one nonetheless.

A fast, gripping read that’ll leave you wanting more. A perfect little palate-cleanser between heavy reads. I’m eagerly waiting for further adventures of Nameless and finding out more about him and his world.

Disclaimer: I was provided a copy of Risen by the author in exchange for an honest (and, it turns out, over a month overdue) review.

—–

3.5 Stars

Morning Star by Pierce Brown

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On March 4, 2016

In Fiction, Pierce Brown, Red Rising, Science Fiction

Morning StarMorning Star

by Pierce Brown
Series: Red Rising, #3

Hardcover, 518 pg.
Del Rey, 2016

Read: February 24 – March 3, 2016

“There is no pain. Only joy,” they chant, deep in the embrace of the god’s bread. Sefi begins the war bellow. Her voice higher than Ragnar’s. Her two wing-sisters join her. Then their wing-sisters, until dozens fill the com with their song, giving me a sense of grandeur as my mind tells my body to flee. This is why the Obsidians chant. Not to sow terror. But to feel brave, to feel kinship, instead of isolation and fear.

Sweat drips down my spine.

Fear is not real.

Holiday deactivates her safety.

“Njar la tagag . . . ”

My razor goes rigid.

PulseWeapon shudders and whines, priming.

Body trembles. Mouth full of ashes. Wear the mask. Hide the man. Feel nothing. See everything. Move and kill. Move and kill. I am not a man. They are not men.

The chanting swells. . . “Syn tir rjyka!”

Fear is not real.

If you’re watching, Eo, it’s time to close your eyes.

The Reaper has come. And he’s brought hell with him.

And when The Reaper, Darrow of Lykos, says he’s brought hell with him, you’d best believe it.

With books that come later in a series — especially with the last volume — there are huge expectations and hopes. Sometimes the book’s a disappointment; sometimes it’s as good as you hoped — every now and then, it’s better than you’d hoped. And then there are the times you get something like Morning Star. I want to avoid hyperbole, and I don’t want to over-sell, so let me just say that Pierce Brown delivered. I’m not sure how to talk about this book — one of my most anticipated reads of 2016 — other than to say it did not disappoint in the slightest, and if it doesn’t find its way to my favorite reads of 2016, I’d be flummoxed (although that would mean we have an unbelievably good 9 months ahead).

We pick up about a year after Golden Son — well, that’s not true. We start off with one of those aggravating teases for events later in the book before starting the actual story. If I’m going to complain about it in Freedom’s Child a couple of weeks ago, I’d better complain about it here. Thankfully, it’s a brief tease and you can forget it quickly because Chapter 1 doesn’t wait too long to get to the brutality that this series is so capable of bringing, making you forget about trivial things like bad ways to start a novel. I’m not going to get into the plot — if you’re curious, start with Red Rising and catch up. If you’ve read one or two of these books, I just want to assure you that you should grab this.

Red Rising was like the love child of Ender’s Game and The Hunger Games hopped up on amphetamines, steroids and too much Red Bull. Golden Sun was a roller coaster of stomach-lurching twists and turns and shattered hopes. Morning Star has elements of both, but it also reads like a series of climatic scenes from epic novels and movies stacked on top of one another — Jackson’s The Lord of The Rings + Gladiator + The Patriot + a few more things like that on the day that Michael settles all family business. Somehow, Brown keeps the tension mounting from chapter to chapter, in a way that every battle, every encounter feels like it could be the novel’s climax. Yet when the actual climax happens you’re not prepared.

Having been trained by Golden Son, I spent a lot of time expecting a betrayal, waiting for the sucker punch I knew was coming. But it wasn’t that kind of book* — it was a book of hard choices — even compromises (the good kind) — of people doing the right thing, to the best of their understanding. Not always the best for themselves, but the best for their principles, their loved ones, their people. Family — biological family, extended family, found family — is a major theme throughout. It shouldn’t be surprising considering that this all started with a husband and wife, but when you think of The Red Rising Trilogy, family isn’t one of the first words that come to mind. Well, after you read this, it might be.

Lieutenant Commander Worf, son of Mogh, would’ve approved of so much of the action here (on both sides). The pages dripped with honor and nobility (in both classic and more modern understandings of the concepts). Despite it being a mainstay in fiction, I have a hard time buying the concept of noble deaths, but man . . . there’s one roughly midway through the that got me in just the right way. The dying was a little more protracted than Brown’s typical practice, giving him time to do more with it narratively. It was such a good piece of writing (even if all the individual elements in the scene were cliché), it’s one of the most effective parts of the series. Once it starts, you know what’s happening, you know how the effects of it will play out, but it still works. It’s like the da da da dummm at the beginning of the 5th — everyone knows it, but if an orchestra does it right? It’s powerful stuff.

Like a good general — Brown’s always a few steps ahead of the reader, well, me. As before, he surprised me all the time. There were a couple of times that I came close to seeing his play — technically — but his actual move was so much better than I’d guessed, I might as well have been moving checkers around his chess board.

Before I came across the section I quoted in my opening, I was going to use:

Now I remember hate.

I’m glad I didn’t. Morning Star isn’t about that. After Golden Son (or after Eo’s death), that’s what you expect: Darrow going all John Wick/Beatrix Kiddo/Frank Castle, but that’s not what the book is. Darrow is much more than a vengeance-machine. He’s more than rage, more than hatred — he’s full of both, no mistake. But that’s not all that’s driving him.

And because there’s more to him, the book — the series — is elevated to something beyond a great SF/Action romp. When Darrow, his friends and/or his army say something, do something to send a message, more often than not, it’s inspiring, at the very least, stirring. In the end, Darrow’s mission isn’t about destroying the Golds (although there is plenty of destruction), it’s something more.

The question is, can he fulfill this mission? What would that look like? It is so close to the final page when you get the actual answers to those (and all the other) questions you have.

Oh yeah, and Brown made me laugh out loud once. There were heartwarming moments, moments of joy, moments of awe. In the midst of the chaos, the violence, the destruction, and all the blood? Rays of humanity everywhere.

Simply put, this is the perfect conclusion for this fantastic series. I can’t think of a more fitting way for Brown to have concluded things. If you liked Red Rising and Golden Son, you’ll love this.

—
* Which isn’t to say that there aren’t gut punches.

—–

5 Stars

Opening Lines – Morning Star

By

On February 25, 2016

In Authors, Blog Series, Currently Reading, Fiction, News/Misc., Opening Lines, Pierce Brown, Quotations, Red Rising, Science Fiction

We all know we’re not supposed to judge a book by its cover (yet, publishing companies spend big bucks on cover design/art). But, the opening sentence(s)/paragraph(s) are fair game. So, when I stumble on a good opening (or remember one and pull it off the shelves), I’ll throw it up here. Dare you not to read the rest of the book.

Deep in darkness, far from warmth and sun and moons, I lie, quiet as the stone that surrounds me, imprisoning my hunched body in a dreadful womb. I cannot stand. Cannot stretch. I can only curl in a ball, a withered fossil of the man that was. Hands cuffed behind my back. Naked on cold rock.

All alone with the dark.

It seems months, years, millennia since my knees have unbent, since my spine has straightened from its crooked pose. The ache is madness. My joints fuse like rusted iron. How much time has passed since I saw my Golden friends bleeding out into the grass? Since I felt gentle Roque kiss my cheek as he broke my heart?

Time is no river.

Not here.

In this tomb, time is the stone. It is the darkness, permanent and unyielding, its only measure the twin pendulums of life — breath and the beating of my heart.

In. Buh . . . bump. Buh . . . bump.

Out. Buh . . . bump. Buh . . . bump.

In. Buh . . . bump. Buh . . . bump.

And forever it repeats.

from Morning Star by Pierce Brown

Page 89 of 123

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