Category: Fiction Page 286 of 341

Spell or High Water by Scott Meyer

 Spell or High WaterSpell or High Water

by Scott Meyer
Series: Magic 2.0, #2

Kindle, 443 pg.
47North, 2014
Read: August 1 – 7, 2015

“It was an act of stubbornness, not intelligence.” Vic nodded . “Sadly, I find that stubbornness often beats intelligence eventually. Stubbornness will beat anything eventually. That’s the whole point of stubbornness.” Martin didn’t like that idea. He agreed with it, but he did not like it.

This was not as impressive or surprising (or even funny, despite bits like the above) as Off to Be the Wizard. But it was probably a better novel. It’s not as fun, but it’s a better quality read.

It’s been a couple of months since Philip assumed the leadership of the wizards in Medieval England, and he’s getting bored. When the invitation to a summit of all the magic users in the world comes, he and Martin agree to represent their group. The women of Atlantis are the organizers, and they bring 2 of every group — all over the world and from all sorts of times. Turns out a lot of people have figured out how to tap into the computer program, and they’ve come up with unique ways of interacting with it. The summit is to come up with some rules to govern the use of magic (or whatever the groups call it) and how to stop/punish people like Jimmy (more on him in a bit) who abuse it. Before they can get into the meat of the summit, these two have to deal with a murder mystery, political intrigue, romance, romantic problems, and questions of free will/determinism (because who doesn’t think that sounds fun?).

Naturally, there’s a heckuva surprise waiting for them when they get back. But that’s not for me to get into.

Atlantis is run by sorceresses, and is really the only place on Earth (throughout history) that they’ve felt safe and comfortable — which is a pretty big indictment of the rest of the world, really. This is not to say it’s the land of the Amazons or anything — there are plenty of men around. Someone has to do the non-magical work around the city, right? The male culture that has arisen is the source of plenty of cheap jokes as well as a little cultural criticism for Meyer. Atlantis as a whole — the city and how it’s made, the political structures, the male/female roles, the culture — this is the best thing that this book has to offer. Meyer really had to put the thinking cap on to come up with this — and to keep it entertaining.

I realize the previous book ended with a strong indication that the vanquished foe wasn’t down for the count. But I’d hoped that we wouldn’t see too much of him anytime soon. So much for that. Jimmy, the Wizard formerly known as Merlin, was around for a major role in this book. A larger role, really, than he played last time. Now, I didn’t really like Jimmy as a character — I know we’re not supposed to “like” him because he’s the bad guy, but that’s not what I mean. As a character, he was okay enough for one book (especially a book focused on introducing us to the other characters and world), but I didn’t want/need more of him. I’m still not crazy about him, even after the events of this book that make him a better rounded character.

There’s probably fewer jokes per inch here than in its predecessor. But those that are there were solid, the voice of the narration is light and humorous enough that you don’t miss jokes. I’m not saying there aren’t jokes — there are entire scenes that are little more than extended jokes (most of them worth it). Like its predecessor, there are bits of this book that are just great, are worth going through the whole book for, even if the book isn’t your thing. For example, the conversation that Martin has with Gilbert and Sid, who are magic users who make a living doing stage magic. That conversation hits a sweet spot for me that little else can. You may not react that way to that conversation, but there’ll be similar moments for you (that don’t work that way for me). Actually, almost every conversation between Gilbert, Sid and Martin are pretty good, particularly where the former two explain to Martin why they don’t get along.

It’s the same world as Off to Be — same kooky guys, unique magic system and plenty of chuckles; but with a richer, better developed plot, and a more expanded world. Fans of the first will definitely want to check this one out.

And, hey, learning who it was on the grassy knoll? You can’t pass that up.

—–

3 Stars

The Redeemers by Ace Atkins

The RedeemersThe Redeemers

by Ace Atkins
Series: Quinn Colson, #5

Hardcover, 370 pg.
G.P. Putnam’s Sons , 2015
Read: August 7 – 10, 2015

The first thing you want to do after being shot is make sure you are not shot again.

That sentence just makes me grin. Which, honestly, is not something that someone spends a lot of time doing while reading a Quinn Colson novel. But The Redeemers is not your typical Quinn Colson novel.

We start off with Quinn on one of his last days as sheriff — Johnny Stagg, the man Boss Hogg wanted to be, finally worked his magic and got the election result that he worked so hard for — Quinn’s out and a man of his backing is in. Most readers are going to instinctively prefer Colson. and want to not like his successor, Rusty Wise. Rusty was most recently an insurance salesman, although he did work as a police officer for a time (nothing to noteworthy in his career — or at least not that Stagg didn’t bury). The problem with being anti-Rusty is that he’s actually a decent guy (sorry, Johnny), who honestly thought he could do a better job than Colson — and gets thrown into the fire on his first day (hours before it, really). Now, we all know — and Lillie Virgil will tell you — Wise is no Colson, not even close. But he’s trying.

On the other end of the spectrum, are a few idiotic criminals — you’ve got the so-called master safe cracker and his University of Alabama Football-obsessed nephew/apprentice, hired by a local to help he and his friend get revenge on a crooked businessman. I’m fairly certain these criminals had noticed that they had no place to live without Elmore Leonard, so they dropped by to see how they’d fare in Tibbehah County. Short answer: they were better off before. If you don’t chuckle at these numbskulls at least one, call your doctor and get your funny bone checked. Lille and Wise have the lead on this investigation, but the wife of their victim gets Colson to check into it a bit, too.

He gets pulled in because that woman is the aunt of Anna Lee — who has definitively left her husband, who has definitively left town, so she and Quinn can definitively do something about their old flame. Which is just one of the balls that Quinn has to keep in the air on the personal side — his father’s moving into Quinn’s house and bringing his horses on to Quinn’s land; his sister Caddy has fallen way off the wagon again; and Quinn’s unemployed — unless he wants to get a job at the new Wal-Mart, he’s going to have to do something about that. There’s an element of “oh, this again?” with Caddy’s struggles with drug addiction. But what do you want from that kind of thing? And with Quinn’s father, I felt a strong, “ugh, how long are we going to out up with this guy?” (I think Quinn agrees with me),

You have to ask (and people do), why does Quinn stay in Jericho? For that matter, why does Caddy (not just because Quinn drags her back), why does Lillie? Part of it is because it’s where they grew up, where they are home. Part of it, is hard to pin down, but Quinn touches on it while talking with the federal agent, undercover in Stagg’s business:

“There’s more to the place than the ugliness,” Quinn said. “Maybe someday I can take you out hunting and fishing and you can know more than just that . . . truck stop. Get out on Choctaw Lake and out into the National Forest.”
“I’d like that.”
“Folks like Stagg and Cobb haven’t ripped all the guts out of the place,” Quinn said. “There’s still a lot left.”

I do fear that Assistant Sheriff Lillie Virgil is given short shrift again. Yes, every time she’s used, she’s: competent, dangerous, smarter than most people in the room with her. She just seems to get the short end of the stick when it comes to story, to emotional arcs, and the like. I want more for her — professionally, personally, and narratively. Now, along the same lines, but perhaps more importantly: can someone arrange a novel/short story/something where Lille and Vic Moretti team up? Yes, it’s possible that would be just too much feminine toughness and gunplay for audiences. But surely, it has to be tried.

For the most part the book keeps trudging along — interesting, occasionally funny — but nothing special — Stagg’s up to his thing, Quinn’s figuring out his next move, the Leonard refugees are seemingly trying to get caught. But nothing that really grabs you. Until you get to the last 60± pages, that is. After lulling the reader into a false sense of security, Atkins packed a while lotta happenings, and loose ends being tied up and bodies being dropped into these pages. Action, and emotion, and a dream sequence that seems straight out of Craig Johnson.

In interviews, Atkins states that the next novel is going to be dark (which is part of why this is so light) — I’m a little worried about what that means. I’m pretty sure the only one who’s safe is the guy who’s name is in the series title (though it wouldn’t surprise me if he got really banged up — but he’ll survive).

—–

4 1/2 Stars

Review Catch-Up: Hidden by Benedict Jacka; The Winter Long by Seanan McGuire

These have been nagging at me for eleven months now. No, I have no explanation for why it took me so long, but I’m glad I took a lot of notes on both. I’m going to get this posted before I start the next Jacka novel (which should be happening today). While I’m at it, the next Toby Day is a couple of weeks away.

Anyway, overdue mini-looks at a couple of the best Urban Fantasies I read in 2014:

HiddenHidden

by Benedict Jacka
Series: Alex Verus, #5


Mass Market Paperback, 293 pg.
Ace, 2014
Read: September 26 – 30, 2014
. . . man, I have really missed Alex. Everyone’s favorite diviner has really come a long way, lately — shedding the near lone-wolf thing, and is now looking after a passel of magic rookies. Whether they want him to or not.

Anne Walker is definitely in the “or not” category. She’s done all she can to stay away from Alex — but she probably didn’t mean to include being kidnapped as one of those ways. Alex goes to some pretty dark places to help someone who doesn’t want it.

At the same time, Alex (via the Council) is feeling some pressure for the events of the last book. They’re also pressuring him to do some official work for them. Plus the rumors are getting more and more intense that his mentor, Richard, is back. If that’s true, no one is going to be happy. Naturally, everyone thinks that Alex knows what Richard is up to. And every time he says he doesn’t, he convinces them that he does.

So yeah, Alex has his hands full.

I think it was Chekhov who said that if a magic user grabs a focus in the opening chapters, that by the end of the book . . . Anyway, that was a nice use of it.

Not that Alex has had an easy life over the last couple books (or we wouldn’t be reading them) but the one big take away from Hidden is that it’s going to get a lot worse for our friend (I swear I hadn’t read that note when I wrote about Veiled over the weekend). There are other take aways, mostly happier, but I’ll leave that to you to find.

A wholly satisfying read. Get to know Alex Verus.

4 Stars

The Winter LongThe Winter Long

by Seanan McGuire
Series: Toby Daye, #8


Mass Market Paperback, 358 pg.
DAW, 2014
Read: September 13 – 16, 2014

I don’t like parties. Someone always tries to assassinate someone I actually like, and there are never enough of those little stuffed mushroom caps.

A book starts off with a line like that? You’re going to have fun.

Thankfully, one’s appreciation of a book doesn’t depend on how the protagonist acts. When I was on page 46, I wrote , “Granted, this is early, but Toby’s being stupid, foolishly so. She’s not paying attention to anything said during the fight she just had — actually, technically didn’t really have. Instead, she’s reacting to something that happened to a friend, and acting out of fear, prejudice and alarm. That disappoints me. Her saying, ‘that smile, brief as it had been, was all I could have asked for. A smiling Tybalt was a Tybalt who was still capable of stepping back and looking at the situation rationally. I loved him, but even I could find him frightening when he was fixated on vengeance.’ Man, choke me on the irony, McGuire.”

There’s just go much about this novel that I can’t describe without spoiling it. Let me limit myself to a couple of more notes: Toby lost a lot of blood on this one — I mean like The Bride in the Showdown at the House of Blue Leaves kind of a lot. It’s a good thing she has a healing factor to make Logan jealous. While she’s bleeding she’s having her world rocked.

McGuire takes a lot of what Toby’s “known” since we met her (all of which is what we’ve “known,” too) and turns it upside down and shakes the truth out. Every other book in the series has been affected by these revelations — in one fell swoop, she re-wrote previous 7 books — which is just so cool. It’s not that we’ve (we= readers and Toby) been wrong, our understanding is just . . . askew. There’s also some nice warm fuzzies in this book, which isn’t that typical for the series. McGuire’s outdone herself.
5 Stars

Long Black Curl by Alex Bledsoe

Long Black CurlLong Black Curl

by Alex Bledsoe
Series: Tufa, #3

Hardcover, 377 pg.

Tor Books, 2015

Read: June 11 – 13, 2015

5 Stars
This book was practically un-put-downable. Not because I was driven to find out what happens next — like a Finder, or Child etc. This is one of those kind of books you don’t want to put down because you don’t want to leave that world, not for a minute, to step back into this one, as nice as it is — filled with your stuff, and your great wife and frequently tolerable children. But this book’s little corner of Appalachia that touches another world (in more ways than one) is a place you just want to exist in. Granted, I’d rather be in one of the earlier books than this one (not a reflection of the quality of the book, just the events portrayed).

Not all that long ago, especially by Tufa standards, Bo-Kate Wisby and her beau, Jefferson Powell wreaked all sorts of havoc. They were so terrible that they were banished from the community, unable to return — or, worst of all, make music. WHen you think of some of the despicable things that have happened or have been described in the previous two novels by citizens in good standing, you get an idea just how bad this was. Both have spent decades yearning to return, to play music — but have had to settle for incredibly successful careers in the music business. Which would be a special kind of torture and pleasure — being that close but not able to partake, still being able to appreciate it though. Somehow, however, this curse was lifted without anyone realizing it.

Well, anyone but Bo-Kate. She returns to get revenge and bow the Tufa to her will, destroying their heritage, their way of life and instituting her own. Her approach is not subtle, she clearly learned a little bit from the “Shock and Awe” tactics of a recent war. My jaw almost dropped when i saw the first step that was taken by Bo-Kate. I — like most of the Tufa — didn’t think that was possible, or at least likely. Although there was something to appreciate about that action, there wasn’t in the rest of what she did to the community — I can’t think of any fictional character I’ve had such a visceral reaction to (especially this quickly) this side of Joffrey Lannister Baratheon, first of his name.

It should go without saying with this world, the way the rest of the Tufa respond and defend themselves isn’t how you’d expect. Which goes double for how things play out.

Thankfully, I did really enjoy the rest of the Wisbys — especially Bo-Kate’s sister. I hope to spend more time with them. Actually, I liked getting to know all the new characters — including Bo-Kate’s allies (or those characters who weren’t new, but we hadn’t really spent time with). The characters in this community are so well drawn, so real that you almost don’t need a plot to enjoy a book about them.

As always, I’m jealous of the relationship between these people and music. I don’t have it — a couple of my kids do, at least. I think the way the two banished Tufa react to their returning musical ability tells you almost everything you need to know about them. These are books that need to come with their own score, their own soundtrack. Sadly, I don’t think humans are capable of putting out anything worthy of the books. As good as some of the music inspired by this series has been, it’s not good enough to live up to Tufa standards.

Two things that detracted from the book for me. First is the sex. Not that Bledsoe’s a model of Victorian attitudes toward sex before this, but Long Black Curl is pretty sexually explicit — moreso and more often than before (I’m reasonably sure, but am not interested enough to go back and check). I don’t think it was necessary, but don’t think it hurt things. It was just one of those things that seemed to stick out to me.

Secondly, this is absolutely the most straight-forward of the series, which is both a strength and a weakness. It’s more accessible. There’s almost no doubt whatsoever whats going on. The previous two books haven’t been exactly subtle about the magic and how it works out in the lives of the Tufa — but (and I’m struggling to express this the way I want to) they mostly just let us see what happened and say “hey, that’s magic.” There’s some winking and nudging, but primarily the reader has to do the heavy lifting. To switch metaphors, Bledsoe gave us all the numbers and equations, but we had solve for x on our own. But here? It’s all spelled out. It’s somewhat refreshing, but a little disappointing, too.

But that’s just a little tarnish to the series. It’s still one of the best out there. This book changes the world, but not so much that you won’t recognize it — this is all about growth, development. It does my heart good to know that Bledoe is writing #5 at the moment, so we’ve got at least a few hundred more pages of this world to come.

You can absolutely start here, but I think you’d be better off starting with the first, The Hum and the Shiver to you can catch all the nuance and atmosphere and all that. What it means that character X shows up and does Y. That kind of thing. Either way, dive into this world.

—–

4 1/2 Stars

Thank You, Goodnight by Andy Abramowitz

Thank You, GoodnightThank You, Goodnight”

by Andy Abramowitz
Hardcover, 338 pg.
Touchstone, 2015
Read: June 30 – July 3, 2015

In most instances, space between people grows like mold, neglected just long enough to be noticed. You intended to wipe it clean, but the more of it there is, the more daunting a task it becomes to erase it. Not so with me and the band. I’d discontinued those people as if they were a premium cable channel that I’d finally realized was broadcasting nothing I wanted to watch.

From passages like that, a nice mix of thoughtful, sentimental, with a bit of a grin; to the out-and-out funny, like the funniest suicide attempt I’ve read in a long time, possibly ever (something worthy Save Steve Holland’s Lane Myer, but longer); this book covers the spectrum. Not only covers it, but does so with assurance and panache. It’s one of those first novels that makes you wonder what could possibly be done as a follow up.

Teddy Tremble is a successful enough lawyer for someone who’s heart isn’t really in it, while still being good at it. He’s sort of coasting through life — being good enough at his job, good enough with his girlfriend of forever, good enough for his social circle, but not good enough for his father (but after meeting him, you understand that’s just a given). He’s forty-ish and realizes that life is going to pretty much stay this way. On the whole, he seems okay with that — but in the back of his mind he knows he’s not. He won an Academy Award. His band was huge for a little while in the 1990’s, before his hubris ruined things. Sure, things are good enough now, but once upon a time they were great.

Then through a truly humbling and bewildering set of circumstances, Teddy comes across a group of huge Tremble fans. Seriously, die-hard doesn’t begin to describe these people. Think something akin to the kind of people that organized the first Star Trek convention back when it wasn’t a cultural phenomenon, just a short-lived and then canceled show. This changes everything. The adulation, the attention, the satisfaction of performing gets under his skin and he starts writing music for the first time in a long time.

Pretty soon, he’s (forgive the cliché) trying to get the band back together — his agent and producer are on board, convinced that what he’s written exceeds his former quality. Incidentally, both of these characters are the kind that we readers hope to come across — supporting characters that threaten to steal the entire novel, but when used properly just make the whole thing better.

Anyway, with these two on board — Teddy just has to convince the rest of the band to give it a shot, to trust him. Maybe even to forgive him for what he did to them so long ago. Then he has to convince music fans to take them seriously. Neither of these tasks is going to be easy. Both are practically impossible, really.

The book starts out as pretty entertaining, definitely amusing. But it doesn’t stop there — it gets better, deeper, emotionally richer all the while. By the time I got to (and through) Chapter 20, I tweeted that, “Not sure I need to read another word (am going to), but that was as close to perfect as it gets.” I’m still thinking about it a month later.

At various places through the novel, Teddy observes: “One day I’ll die, and this will be one of the things I did with my time.” I’m not sure if I’ve ever seen one sentence used so many different ways with so many different meanings depending on the context. Sometimes he’s says it wryly, sometimes caustically, sometimes wistfully, sometimes with pride. It’s one of those writerly things that when you see it in action, you wonder why more people don’t try it.

Each of these characters — the agent, the producer, the bandmates, their (sometimes very odd) families, Teddy’s girlfriend, associates in the law firm, and others — are well-drawn. Occasionally familiar, without being stock characters or cliché, each character ends up being strong enough that you want to spend at least a little more time with them. But Abramowtitz is too capable of steward of his resources and gives us just enough to leave us wanting more.

I’ve seen a lot of comparisons of Thank You to Hornby’s High Fidelity and Tropper’s This is Where I Leave You. I don’t get that. Maybe it’s just because these people haven’t read anything else by these authors — they should be comparing this to Hornby’s Juliet, Naked and Tropper’s One Last Thing Before I Go (to be fair, I have seen a little of this comparison, but no one else that I’ve seen has tagged Juliet). These three cover some of the same territory, and Abramowitz comes out looking really good in that company. Don’t get me wrong, I really liked Juliet, I know I liked it more than most people I know. But I don’t think it was as good as it wanted to be or as it thought it was. Thank You seems to do the things that Juliet was wanting to do but didn’t get done. I’m not necessarily saying it’s a better book (I might lean that way), but this is more successful in the areas they overlap. Similarly, while I wouldn’t say that One Last Thing is a bad book, it can’t hold a candle to this one. I’m not trying to make this a competition, but for this first-time novelist to get things better than old pros like Hornby and Tropper says so much about him.

One day I’ll die, and reading this will be one of the things I did with my time. I’m so glad it was.

—–

4 1/2 Stars

Luckiest Girl Alive by Jessica Knoll

Luckiest Girl Alive Luckiest Girl Alive

by Jessica Knoll

Hardcover, 338 pg.

Simon & Schuster, 2015

Read: July 27 – 31, 2015
There has been so much buzz about this book the last couple of months, it might as well be inhabited by bees. There’s been a couple of times this summer that half of my Twitter feed seems obsessed with it — it’s really only one or two people, but they really like posting reviews about it. I get the love for it — I don’t share it (at least to the extent that so many seem to) — but I can see where some would go ga-ga over it.

For me, not since Mark Watney from last year’s The Martian has a book depended so much on a narrator’s voice for me. This thing rises and falls with what you think of Ani FaNelli. If she doesn’t turn you off in the first 10 pages (odds are, I know the exact line), you’ll enjoy the ride.

The book opens on Ani and her fiancé working on their wedding gift registry, but it’s pretty much unlike every such trip you’ve seen/read. I’m pretty sure I emitted an audible chuckle or two. The fiancé is not really a cad, not really a bore, more of a guy who would be a jerk, or a really good guy if he just put a little effort into things in either direction, but can’t seem to bother to care. Ani is driven, emotionally-complex, with a dark sense of humor, there’s a subtext straight from the start that says some nasty stuff has happened to her, and it’s shaped the way she relates to life — it should be said that this subtext isn’t all that “sub.”

As we march towards the wedding day, we start to look back at how Ani’s (then TifAni’s) high school life made her into who she is today — her trials, her trauma, her friends, and everything else. As we get further along in each story, we gain more understanding of why she does what she does. I’m not all that certain I liked Ani as a person, but as a character? Oh, yeah. She’s a damaged mess of various disorders, doing her best to keep things together and progressing (it’s clear that she’s earned every one of those disorders). In the end, Ani just wants acceptance, love (for who she is, not what someone wants her to be), and a little public vindication. It’s just harder for her to find that because of who she is.

It’s hard to argue with desires like that — particularly from someone who’s gone through what she’s gone through. I’ve seen more than one review who talked about not being able to connect to Ani, and while I enjoyed her voice, I’m not sure I could either. What I could connect with was her goals, her desires. So my emotional investment came from wondering what kind of success she’d find.

Ani had a plan — one overarching plan since high school — she developed it, let it evolve, but by and large her plan was everything to her, a religion. I don’t think you could say it was a great plan, but it seems plausible. More than that, it was Ani’s and she liked it. But — somewhere in these pages, a little of that character growth thing happens — plus a handy accident occurs — that necessitates change in her plan. It’s impossible to say if that growth would’ve without the accident, or without the growth if she’d been able to take advantage of the accident. Either way, it’s how you handle a change in your circumstance and plans that reveals the most about you, right? The payoff here was satisfying.

The book promises a lot of twists — and there are several — but most of them I could see coming. That didn’t matter, Knoll teases them just long enough, and then brings them to light just at the right time for them to be fully effective. The ones I didn’t see coming, on the other hand? They were just as effective, and oh, so wonderful.

Thanks to the cover copy and promotions, this is being compared to Gone Girl — some people like the comparison, some don’t. I’m not going to make that comparison (mostly because I haven’t read the other). But for cryin’ out loud — don’t base you opinion of this book on that comparison. That’s not Knoll’s comparison, it belongs to someone at Simon & Schuster’s marketing department (and valid or not, that bit of cover copy paid off for the company).

Give this 10-30 pages. If you’re curious about what happened to Ani, if you like her voice, if you want to if she succeeds in her goals, keep going. If you don’t? Drop it and grab something else.

—–

4 Stars

Scents and Sensibility by Spencer Quinn

Scents and SensibilityScents and Sensibility

by Spencer Quinn
Series: Chet and Bernie, #8

Hardcover, 305 pg.

Atria Books, 2015

Read: July 16 – 17, 2015Bernie Little is back from his cross-country adventures, not much worse for wear, probably with a little coin in his pocket (knowing Bernie. He gets home to find one of his elderly neighbors in the hospital and her husband being investigated by some overreaching environmental authority. Which gets Bernie’s protective instincts engaged. Oh, yeah, and there’s a hole in Bernie’s wall where a safe used to be. That’s in the mix, too — but it takes a back seat to the Parsons’ plight.

It seems that the Parsons’ son was recently released from prison, making the timing of Mr. Parson’s troubles (and the missing safe), a little suspicious. Bernie starts investigating the son — which leads into looking at the crime that put him away in the first place. Which leads Bernie to cross paths with an old rival. An old rival who may have had something to do with the fact that Bernie is no longer employed by the Phoenix Police Department.

The past and present mingle with the personal and professional for Bernie as the case gets more complicated and dangerous. Which makes this a pretty decent detective novel — then throw in our loyal narrator, Chet with his uniquely irrepressible voice and perspective. That’s a thick layer of icing on a pretty good cake.

Which I guess makes the presence of a young dog who looks and smells like Chet (he’s the source of the latter observation) a nice fondant?

I think the illustration is getting away from me, so I’d better move on.

There are a few certainties in crime fiction, in every novel: a vehicle operated by Stephanie Plum will explode; Nero Wolfe will have beer; Harry Bosch will listen to jazz; and Chet will be separated from Bernie. Sometimes, this annoys me because it seems so forced, but this time it snuck up on me so naturally that I was three or four paragraphs into it before I realized it had happened. There’s some other Ce and Bernie mainstays here: Bernie says something he regrets to Suzie; Bernie’s ex seems to go out of her way to misunderstand Bernie, Chet is spoiled and eats like a goat. Really, it has all the elements of this series, Quinn just uses them better than usual here.

A compelling story, the characters back in their stride, and we learn a little bit more about Bernie — if that’s all this had, I’d jumping with excitement. But when you add those last few paragraphs? Forget it — this is the best thing Quinn’s done since introducing us to this pair.

—–

4 1/2 Stars

Junkyard Dogs by Craig Johnson

Junkyard DogsJunkyard Dogs

by Craig Johnson
Series: Walt Longmire, #6

Hardcover, 306 pg.

Viking Adult, 2010

Read: July 25, 2015This one opens with probably the funniest incidents in the series, I don’t want to spoil it, just trust me. Actually, there’s quite a few things in the opening chapters of this book to chuckle at or with.

But it wouldn’t be much of a mystery novel if it stayed that way. And so one chuckle-worthy happening is used by Walt to try to help one of his deputies. And then another string of comic events and characters ends with a corpse or two turning up. Which pretty much stops the laughter. It’s really a shame, I liked one of the people who died — and the family of one of the others. (Which isn’t to say that it’s not a shame when it happens to characters I don’t like)

The mystery was a little easier to solve than I really like, but these books aren’t really so much about the whodunit as they are about what happens with Walt and co. while they figure it out. On that front, this was pretty entertaining.

Seeds were planted for something involving Henry’s brother. Well, seeds have been planted already — I guess I should say that the previously planted seeds about Henry’s brother got a decent watering. However you want to look at it — something’s brewing on that front, and it’s not going to be pretty when it’s done. I hope the same isn’t the case with the impending nuptials.

As usual, with a book that takes in a part of the country like Absaroka County, WY, you have to worry about the number of murders and the risk posed to everyday residents of it. But at least they’ve got a lawman on their side who’ll make sure that those who disturb that corner of the woods pay for it. And not to sound too callous, but as long as these books keep being that entertaining, I can live with the hit to the census.

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3.5 Stars

The Library at Mount Char by Scott Hawkins

The Library at Mount CharThe Library at Mount Char

by Scott Hawkins

Hardcover, 388 pg.

Crown, 2015
Read: July 20 – 24, 2015
This is not the easiest book for me to write about. I’m really torn about this. That’s not exactly true. I want to be torn about it. I spent a lot of time hating this book, and the rest wanting to hate it (and coming pretty close). I took a break on page 81 to write a healthy paragraph in my notes, which included, “by page 81 or so, I really had no idea what the book was about other than some guy inflicting horrible abuse — physical, metaphysical, mental, spiritual, psychological, and any other kinds possible — on children. All of whom, for various and sundry reasons are devoted to him.” There had been at least 4 distinct places by that point where I wanted to stop reading. But I received the book in exchange for a review, so I had to press on. It was within 10-20 pages after that rant that I found something I enjoyed.

If you’re reading an almost 400 page book and the first quarter is so terrible you’re only reading by compulsion? It’s not a good book. No matter how good that last seventy-five percent is.

And it was pretty good. There’s a man, who’s moved on beyond humanity after gaining great knowledge — after 60,000 or so years, he has pretty much gained all knowledge. You know that line about sufficiently advanced science appearing magical? Well, imagine that, but sufficiently advanced as to be on Doctor Strange’s level. For reasons unexplained for a very long time, he took a bunch of kids on as apprentices — teaching each of them one (and only one) discipline so they’d be as knowledge able as he is (and the methods he uses aren’t exactly endorsed by the NEA, John Dewey or even The Barnum and Bailey Circus). After a few decades or so, these children are grown, can almost not remember their old life — and the master disappears. Which is when things start to really fall apart. Oh yeah, there’s a postal carrier and a special forces agent who’s probably more skilled than Jack Reacher. And it’s almost impossible to explain how they’re involved.

The worldbuilding is fantastic, really, you’ve seen little like it. At least 3 of the characters are keepers. Plotting is careful and intricate (at times slow, at other times so fast you’ll have a hard time keeping up). I can’t tell you how many times it zigged when I thought it was going to zag. And each zig was completely believable and generally mind-bending. All in all, skillfully written, skillfully told. Still, not for me.

I’m not sure how to rank this. If going off of my reaction to it, I think I’d have to invent a new ranking system, something lower than no stars. But if going off of actual merit — it’s probably a 3.5-4 (maybe 4.5 star). Read it at your own risk. I received this from the people at Blogging for Books in exchange for this review. They probably wish I didn’t.

Re Jane by Patricia Park

This is frustrating…I’ve been working on this post for a couple of weeks now, and have spent a lot of time re-writing, re-writing and throwing out material. I finally decided what to keep and how to organize it, I think. I’m tempted to just put this cover image next to a big .gif of a thumbs up and call it a day.

—-

Re JaneRe Jane

by Patricia Park
Hardcover, 338 pg.
Pamela Dorman Books, 2015

Read: July 6 – 8, 2015

There are two ways to look at this book — as a retelling of Jane Eyre and as a novel on its own terms. It’s clearly indebted to Jane Eyre — frequently, the allusions are subtle; sometimes, she might as well be jumping up and down waving a flag. Still, Park’s her own writer — this is its own story, with its own characters — and a heroine who’s not just Brontë’s best-known character thinly disguised.

If you haven’t read Jane Eyre, first of all — shame on you. Secondly, yes, you can read this and appreciate it — you’ll just miss some of Park’s cleverness. Instead, what you’ll get is a straight-forward story about the trials and travails (and travels) of a young Korean-American woman.

Jane Re’s a half-Korean college graduate who becomes a nanny for the daughter of a couple of silly (white) New Yorkers — she’s a stereotypical college professor in Women’s Studies, he’s a henpecked high-school English teacher. Their daughter was adopted from China, and is now old enough that she doesn’t need a nanny — which makes the whole thing a greater challenge. Still, it’s better than the alternative — returning to live with her uncle and aunt, who were forced to take her in after the death of her mother in Korea (and her family there being unwilling to keep her).

Then through a series of events you can read about yourself, she finds herself living for a bit in South Korea. This is as fascinating as you’d think it’d be. It’s not just about a young South Korean woman, it’s about a young half-South Korean woman, raised in the States (by people who left Korea decades before), trying to acclimate to Korea. A stranger in the U.S. to many because of culture and appearance, finds herself a greater stranger there for the same reasons.

Which leads to . . . spoiler stuff. Which is even more interesting. Along the way there’s a whole mess of family issues, stranger-in-a-strange-land issues, self-acceptance issues, romance issues, and other things I can’t pair with the word “issues.” Jane goes through a lot, I’ve got to say — maybe a wider-range of challenges than Eyre. I frequently found myself wanting a bit more spunk, a bit more chutzpah from Jane throughout. But, like her namesake, when she needed it, she found it within — and it was great to see.

Park makes a pivotal choice in her selection of chronological setting — and one that worried me. It’d have been so easy to go wrong with this, and I’m used to seeing it go badly — but Park pulls it off, and actually makes it work for her.

In the end, I liked Jane. I rooted for her. I liked (some of) her family and friends. I was invested in the story. It’s not going to go down as good as, or as important as, its inspiration — but it’s a well-written, warm, look at a woman learning how to take charge of her life.

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4 Stars

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