Category: Authors Page 90 of 123

Reposting: The Absconded Ambassador by Michael R. Underwood

On February 23, 2016

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

It’s Publication Day for The Absconded Ambassador, so I thought I’d better throw this up again. Go get your hands on it.
—

The Absconded Ambassador

by Michael R. Underwood
Series: Genrenauts, Episode 2ARC, 159 pg.
Tor.com, 2016
Read: December 31, 2015

Working as a Genrenaut was like being a member of a theater troupe run by a burnt-out hippie who melded Devising with MBA management: the ideas were outlandish and random, but the execution was 100% corporate.

Now this was a way to close out 2015 — the second episode in Michael R. Underwood’s Genrenauts delivers on the promise of Episode 1, and demonstrates that his special alchemy of Leverage + The Librarians + Quantum Leap + Thursday Next (just my current guess at his secret recipe) has legs — and will hopefully go a long time.

Leah has had about a week to get used to this new reality since her adventure in Western World — a week filled with meetings, reading assignments and trying to wrap her head around things. In the meanwhile, everyone at Genrenauts HQ is trying to prepare for the next breach (in the midst of a spike of 15% over the norm, for your corporate types), probably in Romance World. Which obviously means it’ll be pretty much anywhere else, like say Science Fiction World.

The station of Ahura-3, in the space opera region, to be specific. I’m sure the similarity between the name of the station and a certain Communications Officer is a huge coincidence. Ahura-3 is everything you want in a space station — it’s a melting pot of very-alien-looking/acting aliens, it’s a culture to itself, with strategic location, and very delicate intergalactic politics.

Leah’s excitement about being in “honest-to-goodness, Sally Ride is my homegirl zero-g” space was infectious. But even more fun was the amount of SF references Underwood fit into half of chapter 1 — truly astounding, and didn’t feel forced or overcrowded. He deserves a tip of the cap right there. I made it all the way to page 42 without having to Google one of them (I think there was only one other time I had to grab my smart phone). But the fun’s not limited to the references and allusions — it’s in the alien cultural practices (and appearances), the various factions (human and otherwise), businesses, and just watching the whole Science Fiction World thing at work.

One thing that’s been niggling at the back of my mind with these Episodes is what’s to keep Leah from being Ree Reyes 2.0? Underwood seems to be going with keeping Leah from the more Parker/Eliot Spencer-type roles and moving her into the Sophie Devereau/Alec Hardison-type roles. She and Shirin scramble all over the station trying to keep treaty negotiations moving forward. They’re thinking on their feet, using their wits, charm and SF knowledge to keep things under control — Leah’s on-the-job training under Shirin helps the readers acclimate to this world, too. The action-hero needs are served by the rest of the team, Roman and King — whose banter while throwing punches, engaging in dogfights, and so on, kept the fun going (honestly, maybe was a little more fun than the rest).

In Episode 1, I wondered if the pilot nature of the novella kept it from being everything I wanted it to be. The Absconded Ambassador built on that ground work and gave us a solid, fully-formed adventure — everything I hoped it would be. And that’s just in the main story, there’s all this other stuff going on: not only do we have a sense of impending doom — or at least very big crisis — coming to the Multi-Genre-Verse. But now we’ve got some sort of secret within the team (not one that’s going to cause much trouble, I don’t think — but you never know), and (according to the preview for Episode 3) maybe some intra-team conflict. Underwood just nailed here, and Genrenauts is about half-a-novella away from being his most consistently entertaining work.

I won a copy of this in a drawing on the author’s website — which means I got to read it two months early — and I got a very nice autograph on the title page. The downside is, I have to wait longer than I’d have had to wait otherwise between Episodes 2 and 3. I still came out ahead, but not by much.

—–

4 Stars

Talking to the Dead by Harry Bingham

By HCNewton

On February 18, 2016

In Fiction, Fiona Griffiths, Harry Bingham, Mystery/Detective Fiction/Crime Fiction/Thriller

Talking to the Dead

by Harry Bingham
Series: Fiona Griffiths, #1

Hardcover, 337 pg.
Delacorte Press, 2012

Read: February 16 – 17, 2016

One thing I need to do a better job of is remembering how I found out about a book/series/author that I need to try, this novel is a great example of why. I remember putting it on my TBR, and that there was something about it that made me move it ahead of the others — but I can’t tell you when or why I did so. Sometimes, like with this book, that drives me crazy. I just had to trust that I knew what I was doing when I picked it up. Thankfully, it didn’t take long to convince me that Fi Griffiths had something special going on — mostly it was the voice, the attitude, her humor as seen when she’s going through stacks and stacks of financial documents to make a case air-tight (before the inevitable guilty plea for ripping off a private school):

My desk is covered with paper. I loathe all banks and credit card companies. I hate every digit between 0 and 9. I despise every dopily run Catholic boys’ school in South Wales. If Brian Penry were in front of me now, I would try to force-feed him my calculator, which is as large and chewable as Bakelite phone.

It didn’t take too long before the merits of the case drew me in (not the drudgery of the case above, but the one that drove the novel’s action), and would have even without Fi’s narration. But it was a lock with her as a character. The grim nature of the killings grip the reader, the way they do Griffiths’ colleagues and superiors. What really impressed me was that it is one of the sickest, grossest descriptions of a corpse this side of a Bones episode — and Bingham doesn’t dwell on it — oh, he could’ve, and most authors would have. It’s there stark enough to give the reader the willies, in a just-the-facts-fashion, but Bingham doesn’t exploit the nature of the killing or the state of the body.

To put it charitably, Fi is quirky. To be more accurate, she’s suffering from a serious mental condition — she’s (mostly) got it under control, however. Social skills aren’t really in her wheelhouse — at least not automatically — which presents an additional challenge for her work. Early on, I kept picturing Diane Kruger’s performance from The Bridge, it diminished eventually, but I think Fi will always be Kruger-esque to me. We do eventually get actual information about her condition — which is nice, but we don’t need it to understand her enough to empathize with her. There’s an Author’s Note at the end with more details about the actual condition — don’t read it until the end. Get to know her absent the condition first.

Bingham creates a good bench of supporting characters — a potential boyfriend, a couple of supervisors (who have differing levels of concern for her), a former therapist, an old friend (former trainer/sensei-type), parents, sisters, and a few other detectives. One or more of these can be summoned from the bench with ease in the future, but we don’t get to spend a lot of time with any of them here — just enough to establish them. We spend some good time with her potential boyfriend, old friend/trainer/sensei and dad — I like them all and want to see more of them. But this is really Fi’s book and the narrative weight falls on her troubled, yet capable shoulders.

We hardly get an idea for what kind of men the bad guys are here — it’s just shadowy criminals, up to shadowy criminal things. I like the idea that we only get things through law enforcement eyes, not through the killer’s — that happens far too often for my taste. Like Fi says, I know this way we don’t get the full story, but I prefer not being in the mind of the sickos at work here. We, and the police, get most of the story in the end, and that’s good enough for me.

The book closes with a couple of the most heartfelt, moving scenes that I can think of in Detective Fiction (give me time, and I could probably make a decent list of competitors, still pretty sure this would be near the top — sure, that scene in Gone, Baby, Gone has this beat, but not many others would). I had a hard time believing that it would work as effectively given the fact this is a first novel for the character — but Bingham has laid a lot of ground work to get us ready for these moments, and it paid off well.

Talking to Strangers grabbed me in just the right way. I want to devote the next few days to just reading the rest if this series (I won’t, I know I need to pace myself, but… Oh, I really want to just binge). Fi is an early leader for favorite character of the year (a thing I just decided to do).

—–

4 Stars

Reread Project: The Restaurant at the End of the Universe by Douglas Adams

By HCNewton

On February 16, 2016

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

I think WordPress’ spell-check might explode if I add another sentence or two to this….
—

The Restaurant at the End of the Universe

by Douglas Adams
Series: The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy Trilogy, #2

Mass Market Paperback, 245 pg.
Ballantine Books, 1995

Read: February 13-15, 2016

If you’ve done six impossible things this morning, why not round it off with a breakfast at Milliways, the Restaurant at the End of the Universe?

I think in the past, I’ve enjoyed The Restaurant at the End of the Universe more than this time, but I’m not sure why. Which is not to say that I didn’t have a blast, I just usually have more fun. From the intricate — and death-defying — difficulty of making a good cup of tea; to the extreme lengths some people will go to for a dining experience; to perspective that a little cake can give; to considering what color a wheel should be or whether fire should be nasally-inserted — this book covers all the bases. While still episodic in nature, it seems less so than its predecessor — and far less so than its successor. It’s a stronger novel, not quite as funny, but still better than most “funny” or “light” SF than you’ll find.

[Gargravarr] had rather liked Zaphod Beeblebrox in a strange sort of way. He was clearly a man of many qualities, even if they were mostly bad ones.

Most of this book showcased the ex-President of the Galaxy, Zaphod Beeblebrox the First (how is great-grandfather was Zaphod the Fourth lies in one of the best lies Adams ever penned). Now Zaphod’s not my favorite character — actually, I typically dislike him as a character. As a joke-generator, a font of one-liners? He’s great. Probably most of the quotable lines in this book are his (even Arthur’s best line is immediately denigrated by him “Yeah, and don’t you wish you hadn’t?”).

We see the reason for his stealing of The Heart of Gold in the last book, we’re taken on a wild and twisty ride for him to complete his quest and then . . . it just stops. I’m sure it’s supposed to be in an absurd way or something, but it seems pointless (probably the point).

And then we’re off to Milliways. Ahhh, Milliways — this is an absolutely perfect part of the book. That this is the book’s title is absolutely fitting. There’s nothing about it I don’t like here — Max Quordlepleen’s banter (the oddly bittersweet introduction of him), Hotblack Desiato (and his tax plan), the Dish of the Day . . . I’m going to shut up before I just copy and paste the whole thing.

The rest of the book focuses on Arthur (and Ford, but, a little less), who I like, but don’t laugh at nearly as much.

“Poor Arthur, you’re not really cut out for this life are you?” [Trillian asked]
“You call this life?”

Something I’ve been thinking about this read-through is this: why Arthur? He’s one of Ford’s oldest friends on Earth — but we know he has multiple friends, he could’ve picked any of them — why Arthur? Surely, Ford would’ve had at least an inkling that Arthur would turn into the whiny Monkey-man that Zaphod can’t stand. It’s easy to see why Tricia McMillan would go off with Zapod as Phil over this wet blanket, well, towel. Trillian here has the same thought — and if we’re given a good explanation for that, I don’t remember it. Any of you have a guess (or a quotation) to justify Ford’s improbable choice?

Now, I may have sounded less that totally satisfied with this book — which is oddly true. I do think the Golgafrinchan Ark Fleet Ship B story is pretty “blah” and goes on far too long (into the next book). But it gives us gems like this:

It is a curious fact, and one to which no one knows quite how much importance to attach, that something like 85 percent of all known worlds in the Galaxy, be they primitive or highly advanced, have invented a drink called jynnan tonnyx, or gee-N-N-T’Nix, or jinond-o-nicks, or any one of a thousand or more variations on the same phonetic theme. The drinks themselves are not the same, and vary between the Sivolvian “chinanto/mnigs” which is ordinary water served at slightly above room temperature, and the Gagrakackan “tzjin-anthony-ks” which kills cows at a hundred paces; and in fact the one common factor between all of them, beyond the fact that the names sound the same, is that they were all invented and named before the worlds concerned made contact with any other worlds.

making it hard to complain too much.

There are a lot of laughs to be had here — I didn’t even mention Marvin’s contributions, which were just gold. And any time with Adams is worth it. A must-read follow-up to the classic, Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.

—–

4 Stars

Staked by Kevin Hearne

By HCNewton

On February 4, 2016

In Authors, Dogs, F-J, Fiction, Iron Druid Chronicles, Kevin Hearne

Sigh. This was supposed to post yesterday morning…been one of those weeks. I have been working on blog-content, though, just nothing for you to see quite yet.
—

Staked

by Kevin Hearne
Series: The Iron Druid Chronicles, #8

Hardcover, 310 pg.
Del Rey, 2016

Read: January 27 – 29, 2016

The Timmie’s on York Street sported a garish green-and-yellow-striped awning, a fire hydrant out front in case of donut grease fire, and a convenient signpost pointing the way to public parking. “What kind of ungodly breakfast meat do you want from here?” I asked Oberon as I tied him up to the sign.

<The religion of the meat doesn’t affect its taste,> my hound replied, a pedantic note creeping into his voice.

“What?”

<Godly bacon and ungodly bacon taste the same, Atticus.>

“Bacon it is. Now be nice to people who look scared of you while I’m in side. Do not pee on the hydrant, and no barking.”

<Awww. I like to watch them jump. Sometimes they make squeaky noises.>

Of course I approach the penultimate novel in one of my favorite Urban Fantasy series with mixed emotions — on the one hand, I’m excited to join Atticus, Oberon, et al. for the first time since June, 2014; on the other hand, penultimate is too close to the end for my taste — I’m going to miss exchanges like the quotation I opened up with if nothing else. Still, it’s Hearne, so it was bound to be a good time, my messed-up feelings notwithstanding.

Once again — the inclusion of a “The Story so Far” introduction — a multiple page summary of the series (wittily recounted) to help readers get re-oriented is just golden and should be a requirement for any series over three books long. Seriously, make this happen publishers.

One thought I keep coming back to while thinking about this book (and the series, I guess, as we approach the end) is what the series would be without Oberon. His personality, his canine-ness, and his relationship with Atticus is what set this apart from everything else early on. Would the series have gone on as long as it has — would Hounded have earned a sequel without him? I’m not so sure.

Anyway, that’s a thought for another time, let’s focus on Staked. There are so many plates spinning in this one that I’m going to spend a little more time than usual on plot.

What Hearne said about the entry in Three Slices being vital? That wasn’t hyperbole. I would’ve been so lost without it. Get it.

Atticus and Oberon are busy, busy bees. They tried to take care of Atticus’ relationship with the Olympians, which mostly worked out. Atticus helped out a ghost. “Merely” helped prevent a genocide, which will have a big impact on the brewing conflict with Loki et al. Then there’s the vampire situation — things are getting worse in Theophilus’ war against the Druids and Atticus decides it’s time to end it all. Thanks to the intelligence he gained in Three Slices, he has a plan. Obviously, given the title of the book, this is his focus. We’ve seen Atticus in some pretty violent situations, but his face-offs with vampires and their helpers in this book might just take things to a different level. There’s some diplomacy for Atticus on various fronts, too — but mostly we get a lot of Atticus as Jack Reacher.

Then there’s Granuaile and Orlaith. I don’t have a lot to say about Orlaith — she’s amusing and I like her, but she’s no Oberon. These chapters are the low-point of the book for me. Granuaile is off running some mini-quests, starting with things that are a result of her confrontation with Loki in Three Slices make sense, and even some of what she does as sort of a spin-off from that, I can understand (but honestly, she could delay them). But there’s a couple of pet projects of hers that seem like things she could put off. It seems selfish and foolhardy of her not to be more involved with Atticus’s problems (not that she’s fully aware of the extent of them, but that’s another issue). I’m not saying that the little missus needs to be at her man’s beck-and-call or anything, but her activities are more long-range in focus, the vampire menace is immediate and large (as we get serious demonstrations of). Actually, a lot of what she does seems foolish and doesn’t work out the way it ought. But I’ll complain more about Oberon’s Clever Girl in a bit.

Owen is starting to settle in to his new time, making plans and starting a life — that’s great, but probably something he should’ve back burnered for a month or two, because he’s also got a pretty big problem in Tír na nÓg that he should be more focused on, there are going to be significant consequence to his half-hearted efforts in that regard. But hey, we got this little bit of wisdom from the Archdruid:

I know that when ye think o’ love you’re supposed to think o’ kissy faces and scented soap and hummin’ happy songs together, but there’s another vital part to it that people rarely admit to themselves: We want somebody to rescue us from other people. From talking to them, I mean, or from the burden of giving a damn about what they say. We don’t want to be polite and stifle our farts, now, do we? We want to let ’em rip and we want to be with someone who won’t care if we do, who will love us regardless and fart right back besides.

It was great to see the Hammers of Zion again — and in a different role, too. We see that the vampires have more tricks up their sleeves than anyone was expecting — as befits a race that’s survived as long as they have. The Sisters of the Three Auroras are back as well, and I’m not so sure it’s wise to be as fully trusting of them as certain Druids seem to be.

I spent most of the book dissatisfied. I understand the need/desire for the three druids to be off on their own, pursuing their own destinies or quests or what have you. But it was just a bit too disparate for my taste. They’re all adults, they’re independent creatures — but fer cryin’ out loud, they should be interacting with each other more. Two of them are supposed to be in a relationship — silence for as long should raise an eyebrow or something, right? Owen’s still learning his way around, and it’s irresponsible to just dump him on Greta. As big, as life-altering (if not life-ending), as important as what Atticus is involved in, he needs to call in backup. Sure he’s been on his own for centuries, but he’s not anymore. How many of the horrible consequences of his war on the vampires could’ve been avoided if he’d just brought in the team?

Whatever my problems, whatever complaints I had, the questions I had about where this book/series were going were wiped away in the climatic battle scenes. Sure, we had to ignore a whole lot of spinning plates that are starting to wobble to get to it, but — Wow! That was just great. From the hirsute magic, the vampires cutting loose, the druids opening up cans of Whoop Ass, to the glamour keeping the muggles oblivious to the bloodbath around them — and all points in between. Just wow. One day, that bit deserves a beat-by-beat breakdown.

Towards the end of the book, Atticus evaluates the state of his relationship with Granuaile, and reaches conclusions that I (and probably many readers) have as well. I’m not sure I’m as at peace with the direction it’s headed in as he is, but it’s probably for the best. Honestly, I’m not so sure I expect Atticus to make it out of Book Number 9, so my misgivings might be moot. Also, for the last couple of books, I’ve stopped enjoying reading Granuaile. While she was a bartender or an apprentice, she was a hoot. Now that she’s moved up to being a full-fledged Druid, I dunno, all the joy’s been sucked out of her character and her interactions with Atticus for me. I think her evolution, her growth, maturation (whatever you want to call it) has been organic and makes sense, I think Hearne’s been honest with her as a character, but it wasn’t necessary for it to go that way. Still, I trust Hearne’s treatment of her, she’s just something I put up with now, rather than enjoy.

So, now the wait begins for the final book — and, I assume, Ragnarok. Because why wouldn’t a series that started with conflict in the Tuatha Dé Danann end with the Norse apocalypse (with a side dish of Olympian revenge, maybe?)?

—–

4 1/2 Stars

Lessons from Tara by David Rosenfelt

By HCNewton

On January 28, 2016

In (Auto)Biography, Authors, David Rosenfelt, Dogs, Humor, P-U

Lessons from Tara: Life Advice from the World’s Most Brilliant Dog

by David Rosenfelt

Hardcover, 227 pg.
St. Martin’s Press, 2015

Read: January 23 – 25, 2016

One of my resolutions this year was to read more Non-Fiction — I’m going to try for 1 a month, in addition to “whenever I see something that catches my eye.” So, I marched up to the New Release shelf at the Library and started browsing — hope sinking fast, a whole lot of diet, productivity and political books. Ugh. Just not in the mood, then I got to the 600’s and David Rosenfelt’s name jumped out at me. Had to do it, Rosenfelt talking about Tara (the inspiration for Andy Carpenter’s dog) might be cheating a little, but it was good enough.

I was expecting a little Marley & Me-ish type story about the Rosenfelts and Tara. I couldn’t have been more wrong — thankfully (this meant I sniffled far less than I would’ve otherwise). This is a collection of short (no more than 5 pages), mostly humorous, essays about their life and work with Rescue Dogs. Tara is mentioned frequently, as the work they do with Rescue Dogs was inspired by her, but she’s not the focus of this book. It’s their entire menagerie, those they’ve rescued that aren’t part of their pack, the humans they’ve worked with — and even a few they decidedly haven’t — and the lessons Rosenfelt has learned from them.

While every chapter has a joke or two, some are pretty serious — Rosenfelt talks earnestly about the way people treat dogs — particularly older dogs. The focus of The Tara Foundation is on older/senior dogs who aren’t that likely to be adopted from shelters. I know that he’s made me rethink what dogs I look at when we go to adopt next.

Fans of the Andy Carpenter series will be happy to hear that Andy’s voice is Rosenfelt’s — the book at times feels like an Andy Carpenter book without all the muss and fuss of a plot, murder, or trial. I laughed, I chuckled, I learned a thing or two, and I even got misty more than I wanted to. All in all a really strong read. If you’re a dog lover, or just someone who likes to read good things, find some time for this one.

—–

4 Stars

Three Slices by Kevin Hearne, Delilah S. Dawson, Chuck Wendig

By HCNewton

On January 27, 2016

In Dogs, F-J, Fiction, Iron Druid Chronicles, Kevin Hearne

Three Slices

by Kevin Hearne, Delilah S. Dawson, and Chuck Wendig; Galen Dara (illus.)
Series: The Iron Druid Chronicles, #7.5

Kindle, 166 pg.
2015
Read: January 25 – 26, 2016

No man who is master of his fate should ever reek of cheese.

Criminy Stain’s observation may seem a bit out-of-place given the authors and characters in this anthology. Shouldn’t it be more visceral or blood-related than cheese? Actually, no. Kevin Hearne explains:

I can’t recall precisely where I heard that tyromancy was actually a thing, but methinks it was during the summer of 2012. As soon as I knew it existed I knew I had to write about it, the way some people have to climb mountains or crack safes once they see them. And if I could find another couple of authors brave enough to do it, maybe we could produce the world’s first tyromancy-themed anthology. So my quest began and now here is the spiffy MacGuffin: THREE SLICES, or rather three stories where somebody along the way predicts the future via the coagulation of cheese.

So, he got a couple of other writers to contribute a story et voilà, they’ve got themselves a pretty unique book. Honestly, I think if I knew the theme, I’d probably have picked this up earlier, rather than waiting until the release week for Hearne’s Staked (and really only then because he insisted his story was “vital” to read before the new book).

A Prelude to War

This happens within a week of Shattered (and ends a few hours before Staked, I think). And yeah, it turns out to be pretty vital for starting the latter. Sure, you could’ve pieced things together, I think (I’m only on page 10, so that’s a guess) — but why work that hard, when you could just spend a little time with Atticus, Oberon, Granuaile and Orlaith (especially Oberon, always especially Oberon)?

I sorta want to talk about all of it, but the story is so short, I’d end up spoiling too much. So let me just stay that this is fun, it’s exciting, and the table it sets for Staked looks great.

Not My Circus, Not My Monkeys

It took me a little work to really get a handle on what was going on here in this Blud story (and I’m pretty sure I only achieved B+ level of comprehension). I’m not sure if this is prequel-y or if it fits into the continuity of the series — but it feels prequel-y.

It was creepy, dark, and moody. The tyromancy fit into a Twilight Zone-like part of the book. Then Criminy got into one of the more disgusting (appropriately so) fight scenes that I’ve read in the last few years.

On the one hand, I wouldn’t object to spending more time in this world, but I can’t see myself expending a whole lot of effort, either. Just not my thing. I think I’ll stick to the Hit books for now.

Interlude: Swallow

Good, ol’ reliable Chuck Wendig — he can write dazzling sentences, character descriptions that I will dwell on for days, and yet I can barely stand to read him. I keep waiting for the lightning bolt that will change things and he will become one of my favorite readers. But I can’t even get a static shock to make him someone I want to read — particularly Miriam Black. Interlude: Swallow ain’t gonna change that. Sorry, Mr. Windig. (I did chuckle mightily at Miriam’s quoting Ralphie Parker). Miriam’s rants about mornings, and then her comments on breakfast and then breakfast sandwiches probably made the time I spent worthwhile.

Overall, for me, this was really only worth the effort for Hearne’s story — but fans of Dawson’s Blud series or Miriam Black should have plenty of reason to pick this up, too. If you happen to be a fan of all three series, you’ll probably love this book.

—–

3 Stars

Reread Project: The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams

By HCNewton

On January 15, 2016

In Douglas Adams, Fiction, Humor, Reread Project, Science Fiction, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy

by Douglas Adams
Series: The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy Trilogy, #1

Mass Market Paperback, 216 pg.
Del Rey Books, 1995 (originally, 1979)
Read: January 14 – 15, 2015

If I’m not really careful, this will be the longest thing I ever post here. Let’s see how much restraint I have, shall we?

I think I read The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy for the first time in 1987 (maybe 1988), and have read it countless times since then. I quote it all the time (frequently unconsciously and unintentionally) — I think I’ve even plagiarized it a couple of times (really unintentionally). The only reason that my PIN isn’t 4242 is because it seems to be too obvious. I love this book. Rereading it is still fun. Even though I have paragraphs committed to memory, I can hear large portions of it in the voices of the original radio play actors, still the act of reading it is enjoyable, it’s like coming home after a long day at work.

The fixation on digital watches seems so quaint. It starts in the first paragraph and doesn’t really let up until late in the book. I so wish Adams was with us to see what he’d do with our smartphone addictions.

So much of what Adams does here has been repeated by others that he inspired, it’s tough to see some of it as fresh anymore, but he didn’t so much break the mold as ignored it and accidentally created a new one.

The Vogons are fantastic creatures. From the description of their evolutionary process — abandoned though it may be — their anatomy, their inherent meanness, to the commentary on civil servants. Just a fun alien race to read about. But is Adams satisfied with that? No. He adds the monstrosity that is their poetry (and the swipe at the old schoolmate) and they near perfection.

The Babel fish, what can you say about that? They are inspired. They take care of a problem that every space-bound Science Fiction story has to deal with in a way that’s actually more believable than technology-based solutions (Doctor Who does the same thing a bit less convolutedly, but less amusingly, too).

The Python-esque dialogue of the representatives of the Amalgamated Union of Philosophers, Sages, Luminaries and Other Thinking Persons. Is just a delight and picks up what could be a lull in the story.

Another little bonus that’s easy to over look is cop ex machina appearance of the Blagulon Kappa police officers — they’re a great commentary on law enforcement, notions of masculinity, depictions of both in the media — and how all three were undergoing a change at the time.

Strip away all the laughs, the jokes, the satire, the general zaniness and you still have a decent story — not a great one, mind you, but a decent one. There’s some good character work here, too — but it’s hard to see. The reactions of both Arthur and Trillian to the destruction of Earth are a lot deeper and real then Adams needed to make them. Unfortunately, that’s about all the good that Adams does with Trillian. Arthur still has some good treatment in his future.

It’s not perfect, don’t get me wrong — there are some problems with the characters (see Trillian), it being an adaptation of the radio program makes things a bit episodic with clunky transitions, and other hiccups (like the multiple introductions of Ford Prefect). Still, the highs are higher than the lows are low and there are a lot more of them.

“Time is an illusion. Lunchtime doubly so.”
“This must be Thursday. . . I never could get the hang of Thursdays.”
“You’d better be prepared for the jump into hyperspace. It’s unpleasantly like being drunk.”
“What’s so unpleasant about being drunk?”
“You ask a glass of water.”
(I’m not sure why, but this has always made me chuckle, if not actually laugh out loud. It’s just never not funny)
“He had found a Nutri-Matic machine which had provided im with a plastic cup filled with a liquid that was almost, but not quite, entirely unlike tea.”
“In those days spirits were brave, the stakes were high, men were real men, women were real women and small furry creatures from Alpha Centauri were real small furry creatures from Alpha Centuari. And all dared to brave unknown terrors, to do mighty deeds, to boldly split infinitives that no man had split before . . . “
“Look,” said Arthur, “would it save you a lot of time if I just gave up and went mad now?”
Slartibartfast
(okay, not technically a line, but that name…c’mon)

It’s a classic, you just need to read it if you haven’t. If you have, is it time for a re-read?

—–

5 Stars
(only because I don’t have time to make a 6-star graphic) 6 out of 5 stars, easy.

Indexing: Reflections, Episode Ten: Untold Truths by Seanan McGuire

By HCNewton

On December 16, 2015

In Authors, Fiction, Indexing, K-O, Seanan McGuire, Urban Fantasy

Indexing: Reflections, Episode Ten: Untold Truth

by Seanan McGuire
Series: Indexing, #2.10

Kindle
47North, 2015
Read: December 15, 2015

We’ve all read enough/watched enough Body Swap stories to know how this goes down. Henry wakes up in a body that’s not hers, makes her way to the Bureau, to try to get her team back.

She has to convince more than a few people that’s she who she claims to be. The fact that there are people who work there who have the ability to tell if she’s telling the truth, should make things easier — and probably does.

McGuire doesn’t let things get too bogged down with this identity test. Between humor, one seriously creepy version of Moaning Myrtle, and the sense of impending doom, things keep moving well.

The plot didn’t advance a lot, but what little bit that happened was much needed and a positive sign for the next installment. Except for the last few paragraphs, which will hopefully be the first thing addressed in episode 11, because that’s just not okay.

—–

3.5 Stars

Santa 365 by Spencer Quinn

By HCNewton

On December 16, 2015

In Authors, Chet and Bernie, Dogs, Fiction, Mystery/Detective Fiction/Crime Fiction/Thriller, P-U, Spencer Quinn

Santa 365

by Spencer Quinn
Series: Chet and Bernie
Kindle Edition, 47 pg.
Atria Books, 2015

Read: December 15, 2015

There’s not a whole lot to say about this short story, but I’ll give it a whirl. Taking place sometime before The Dog Who Knew Too Much (the duo’s adventures involving a wilderness camp), this is the story of Bernie trying to throw a Christmas party for his friends and, more importantly, his son, Charlie. Naturally, because it’s a Chet and Bernie story, crime ensues, and Bernie’s able to set things right (and take care of another problem at the same time). Sure, given that most of Bernie’s social circle are either cops or perps that he and Chet have busted, there should be a lot more crime in Bernie’s life.

Suzie, and we, get to meet Bernie’s mother, Minerva. Something Bernie’s not too excited about (well, I don’t think he cares about us meeting her, Suzie, on the other hand . . . ). She was amusing, but I think Minerva could become too much very quickly. If she returns in a novel, I hope her appearance has about the same number of words.

I trust it’s because of the size of this story, but wow, this was a shallow and rushed thing. Still, it’s a pleasant read, fun to see Chet’s reaction to a Christmas tree and what not. There are a couple of lines from this story that belong in Quinn’s Top 20 All Time lines (a contested field, I realize), so I’m glad I read it, but I was left wanting a bit more.

—–

3 Stars

Winter and Night by S. J. Rozan

By HCNewton

On December 15, 2015

In Fiction, Lydia Chin & Bill Smith, Mystery/Detective Fiction/Crime Fiction/Thriller, S. J. Rozan

Winter and Night

by S. J. Rozan
Series: Lydia Chin & Bill Smith, #8

Hardcover, 338 pg.
Minotaur Books, 2002
Read: December 11 – 14, 2015

On the whole, I enjoy the Lydia Chin novels in this series more than the Bill Smith ones, while I’d say the Bill Smith novels are better novels. Winter and Night was the best of both worlds — it was probably the best written in the series, and I really enjoyed it.

Bill gets a call in the middle of the night to come help a teen that the NYPD has taken into custody. He does brings the kid, Gary, home with him and hears a vague sob story about how Gary’s just trying to help, trying to do the right thing. And then he runs away. Bill gets Lydia to start looking for Gary in NYC while he goes to check out the kid’s hometown.

There’s more wrong in the small town Gary ran from than just a missing kid. This little town is football-crazy, I’m talking Texas football crazy, the kind of thing you think King of the Hill and Friday Night Lights is making too much of, but start to wonder if they’re not. Then there’s a dead high schooler. And seemingly every person in the town is telling Bill not to think that this had anything to do with a rape and murder over 20 years ago. Which, just gets him wondering, naturally.

This case gets under Bill’s skin, hitting close to home, and worse. Lydia compares him to a patched-up furnace that’s about to explode. He gets pretty close a couple of times, actually. Making this a rougher, more raw, more violent story (not that Bill’s books are absent violence). Because this is so close to him, he makes some really dumb mistakes — Bill, Lydia and the police spend a few chapters trying to prevent a crime that’s just not going to happen, and I spent far too much time annoyed with them from not seeing things are clearly as I could.

How does Rozan do it? Seriously, you get the same two characters in two different novels or four different always know each taking the lead and is like it’s two different series. You know, there’s a certain feel when you read a Robert Crais book — Elvis Cole book or a Joe Pike book, the books are different, and the two protagonists/narrative voiced are different. But you can tell they’re by the same writer. Not the case here — at all — it’s not even close. If you told me the two different people writing the series I’d absolutely believe you.

For my money, this is the best in the series (so far). Thoughtful, suspenseful, moody . . . everything you want in a P. I. novel.

—–

4 1/2 Stars