Category: Fiction Page 289 of 341

Soulless by Gail Carriger

SoullessSoulless

by Gail Carriger
Series: The Parasol Protectorate, #1

Mass Market Paperback, 357 pg.
Orbit, 2009
Read: May 16 – 18, 2015
This is simply not my kind of book, a fact I repeated to myself many times while reading this. But man, I was charmed by it. So charmed by it, that I didn’t care if it was my kind of book or not.

Straightaway, we have our heroine, Alexia Tarabotti, describing her mother:

Mrs. Loontwill, as she was Loontwill since her remarriage, leaned a little too far toward the frivolous in any given equation. She was prone to wearing yellow and engaging in bouts of hysteria.

Something about that second sentence killed me — and I knew I was in for the book, and likely, the series.

This is essentially an Urban Fantasy novel told in Steampunk Victorian England — the Steampunk elements are there, but they’re really just the dressing (occasionally, that dressing becomes quite important, I should point out). The book doesn’t scream “Steampunk” to me, it’s about Vampires, Werewolves, forces threatening them on behalf of humanity, humans and one rare person who’s not really any of the above. Naturally, Alexia is the latter.

The characters — most of them, anyway — are refugee’s from Austen, just turned up to 11. Probably because Carriger is willing to have fun with her characters (and at their expense), which Austen would’ve frowned on, I think. But it’s all in good fun — Carriger isn’t mean, she seems to take great delight in talking about the food, fashion and manners of the day, even as she plays with them, and sets Alexia on a course to bend, if not break, all the societal norms. Her supernatural creatures are also one foot in the society and one foot (paw?) out.

Like with most things in Victorian London, there are very strict rules about the making of new vampires — and then making sure that they know how to behave/feed/etc. When Alexia accidentally kills a young vampire at a ball — almost ruining the affair and bringing all sorts of scandal upon her mother — Lord Conall Maccon of the Bureau for Unnatural Registration shows up to investigate. Alexia involves herself in the project as well — and it soon becomes clear that a number of young vampires not properly made are showing up around London (while werewolves are disappearing all over Britain). It’s clearly not just about unauthorized vampires, there’s something else afoot — and what’s up with the bandaged stranger who keeps trying to kidnap Alexia?

It should be added that Conall is the local werewolf Alpha, and Alexia tends to bring out the wolfish parts of his personality — he brings out something in Alexia, too, but it takes her a while to figure out what. Enter the romance (sorry for the minor spoiler, but if you can make it through the first half of chapter 1 without figuring that out faster than Conall or Alexia, you’re not paying attention and should probably turn off the TV while you read).

It’s not the most original story, really. Fairly easy to predict most of what happens, too. But you know what? Carriger mixes the various elements — Austen-inspired romance, Victorian manners, Steampunk tools world, and Urban Fantasy creatures — with her wit and charm, and you just don’t care how well-trod the plot is.

This might not sound like the compliment it is, but, let me give it a shot. I hold no hope whatsoever of getting my mother to read Urban Fantasy (or Steampunk, for that matter), unless I publish an Urban Fantasy novel (or Steampunk, for that matter). But if I was ever going to succeed? It’d be with this one. The setting, the voice, the romance — all right up her alley. But it worked for me, too. And for Carriger to pull that off says a lot about her skill. I’m coming back for more.

—–

3.5 Stars

What the Dog Knows: The Science and Wonder of Working Dogs by Cat Warren

What the Dog KnowsWhat the Dog Knows: The Science and Wonder of Working Dogs

by Cat Warren

Hardcover, 280 pg.
Touchstone, 2013
Read: May 7 – 15, 2015

People are smart, just like dogs.

Seriously, how do you not like a book that contains that line?

Honestly, the only reason I gave this book a second glance — okay, a first glance — is that Robert Crais blurbed the paperback edition and it showed up on his Facebook page. It seemed kind of interesting, but I wasn’t sure — then I noticed that Spencer Quinn also wrote a blurb. And if two of my favorite mystery novelists (who have a thing for dogs) tell me the book is good, it must be.*

They were right — Warren was a journalist, is now a professor, and knows her way around a sentence. She clearly cares about the subject and has invested a lot of time and effort into getting to know it, her style is engaging and charming (I was chuckling within a couple of pages), and she doesn’t mind showing her own failings and weaknesses.

The history and science of dogs/other animals being used for their sense of smell, is probably the most fascinating part of this book, but it’d be really easy for the material to be too dry to bother with — Warren’s voice keeps that from happening. I think it’s terrific that at the end of the day, no one knows what it is about the smell of the human body that dogs sense — she’ll explain it better than me, but that’s the kernel the story. I just really enjoy it when the best and the brightest have to shrug and say, “I don’t know.” The chapter she spends on the future of dogs and/or digital replacements is good for similar reasons. Actually, I could just keep listing little facts/factoids/ideas here, but I don’t want to steal Warren’s thunder.

The best part of the book — the part that I found most interesting, and most frustratingly small — is the Warren’s story about getting Solo, discovering he had just too much energy and personality, and needing to find an outlet for it all. Which is followed by the trials and tribulations of a newbie cadaver dog handler and her pup-in-training, growing into a capable working dog. Anyone who has a dog lover as a Facebook friend knows just how easy it is for someone’s stories about their dog to get to the point where you can’t stand to hear another**. Somehow, Warren avoids this totally — not an easy feat. It probably helps that dog does far more fascinating things than just hiking through the woods or chasing a ball.

The stories about the others — her friends, colleagues, teachers, etc. — round out the book. It’s not just about Warren and Solo, it’s not just about the military/police efforts with training animals — it’s about dedicated volunteers, K-9 officers and dogs all over the country (and the world) making a difference. In places and ways you wouldn’t expect. Really? Sending in one guy and his dogs into Vietnam decades later to search for POW/MIA? Also, seeing how different dogs act differently, yet get the same job done was mind-boggling. Especially for dogs trained together/by the same person, you’d think they’d act similarly.

I imagine it’s to spotlight the work of others, to not brag about Solo too much, to talk about things that she and her dog haven’t done/seen/smelled — or whatever reason there is, I wanted more Solo. A lot more. I have no problem with the rest of the book, it’s just that there’s not enough Solo (or Coda).

Fascinating, entertaining, and educational — can’t ask for much more than that.

—–

* Yes, I’m aware there are flaws in the thinking there.
** Of course, your friends don’t have dogs as cool as mine. Let me tell you a little bit about her . . .

—–

4 Stars

Attack the Geek by Michael R. Underwood

Attack the GeekAttack the Geek

by Michael R. Underwood
Series: , #2.5

eBook
Pocket Star, 2014

Read: May 22 – 23, 2015 Unlike the first two installments of this series, which I grabbed as soon as I could, I put off reading this — mostly it’s because it was a .5. On the whole, I’ve not really found much to get excited about in the point-whatevers. But I had an opening in my schedule and needed something I could read on my phone.

Man, I should’ve read this sooner.

It’s a typical Saturday night at Grognard’s Grog and Games — “V: TES tournament, half-priced Jaeger, and Grognard getting morose.” Ree’s got her hands full serving the crowd, which happens to include our friends Eastwood and Drake. This is pretty handy because while things are still going strong, the bar falls under a pretty serious attack. They’re able to hold it off for a bit, but before long, it becomes a night-long siege. It was only missing a few Uruk-Hai (or a reference to them) to be a veritable Helm’s Deep. There’s a bit more than just the siege, but I’ve gotta leave a little to you to find out for yourself.

On the one hand this is pretty much just one long-knockdown fight. But there’s more going on — and not just because it’s really a series of fights with strategic retreats to regroup, refresh, heal and strategize. But there’s more than that — Ree seems a lot more certain in her abilities, confident and capable (although she should really have learned to carry spare batteries for her phone by now). There is a little character development, a little push toward the next novel, but mostly this is action. Which does make the small character moments shine a bit brighter — you expect them in a full-fledged novel, and while Underwood usually does these moments right, here they stand out more. Most importantly, the voice is there — Underwood’s eye for action, Ree’s snark, and the 17 pop culture references per inch of text are fully present.

Because the action is limited to the events of one night, a lot of the things that would be minuses for me, actually work. For example, Ree hits the same note of lament over her romantic situation too often for a book that takes place over a couple of weeks — but over a night? Yeah, we’ve all been there. A couple of Grognard’s patrons don’t act in ways that would work/wouldn’t be suspicious over the long hall — but in the midst of a battle? Sure, absolutely.

Unlike a lot of .5 works, I don’t know if this one can be skipped in your voyage from Ree Reyes #2 to Ree Reyes #3. Even if it turns out that you can (won’t know until #3 releases — which I won’t wait to read), you shouldn’t. Grab something to drink and/or snack on and watch Ree and the gang open up a few cans of whoop-ass.

—–

3.5 Stars

Off to Be the Wizard by Scott Meyer

Off to Be the WizardOff to Be the Wizard

by Scott Meyer
Series: Magic 2.0, #1

Kindle, 374 pg.

47North, 2014

Read: May 23 – 26, 2015

4 Stars

The first thing Martin always did when he found some new data file was to search for his own name. It may seem egocentric, but Martin wasn’t worried about that. He had spent a lot of time thinking about himself, and had come to the conclusion that he was definitely not self-absorbed.

There’s a great temptation — and frequently a rush — when discussing an amusing/funny book in SF or Fantasy to compare it with, well — the name rhymes with Schmouglas Schmadams — this can be damning, because almost nothing can live up to it. So I’m going to resist even saying the name. If anything, I think you could say this was reminiscent of Schmon Schmalzi — only funnier.

Martin Banks is the rather unimpressive hero here — a college dropout, living in a poorly-furnished apartment, working in “a cubicle farm, . . . a fluorescent-lighted, beige-walled abattoir for the human spirit where he had to spend most of his time,” and doing some minor hacking on the weekends, just to amuse himself. He stumbles upon a way to manipulate reality, to change things just a little bit here and there around him. Being human, it takes very little time before he begins using that ability in a way to draw the attention of the Federal Authorities. Which is not all that comfortable, so he heads off to England in the Middle Ages where he figures he can do okay for himself, living as a wizard using these abilities.

That’s when things start to get really entertaining (and I had no complaints up to this point). Anything more I say on this front is a horrible spoiler, so we’ll just leave it with really entertaining.

This is a coming of age tale — and, as it’s about a Millennial, it’s a delayed-coming-of-age story. But Martin’s not one of those protagonists that you have to see mature before you like him — you connect with him right away (or you’re probably wasting your time reading on). He definitely doesn’t mature in your typical way, which is part of the fun. I can’t help comparing Martin to Wesley Chu’s Roen Tan. But without the stakes that Roen had to deal with (and a nicer mentor).

Most of the characters we get to know are met after Martin’s time jump — so don’t worry if you find everyone in 2012 a little shallow and undeveloped. They are, but other people won’t be.

There are several things in the book that won’t hold up to much scrutiny — like his ability to get a smartphone signal in Dover, England in 1150. Adapt the advice Joel and the ‘bots used to give us, “just repeat to yourself . . . you should really just relax.” It’s worth it.

The book is just littered with wit — from the extended jokes, the funny visuals, or little asides like: “The fact that wristwatches weren’t invented yet made it difficult to look impatient, but he managed.” On nearly every page, there’s something to make you chuckle or laugh — or at least grin. I laughed enough that it was annoying to my family — not that I cared, mind you. But it’s not just a yuk-fest, there’s a well-written story here, in a great world with some characters you want to spend time with.

I’m looking forward to the rest of the trilogy and have promised myself that I won’t have to wait too long for it. A great mix of SF, Fantasy, Magic, Computers, the Middle Ages and laughs. What are you waiting for?

—–

4 Stars

Towel Day ’15

The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy has a few things to say on the subject of towels.

A towel, it says, is about the most massively useful thing an interstellar hitchhiker can have. Partly it has great practical value. You can wrap it around you for warmth as you bound across the cold moons of Jaglan Beta; you can lie on it on the brilliant marble-sanded beaches of Santraginus V, inhaling the heady sea vapors; you can sleep under it beneath the stars which shine so redly on the desert world of Kakrafoon; use it to sail a miniraft down the slow heavy River Moth; wet it for use in hand-to-hand-combat; wrap it round your head to ward off noxious fumes or avoid the gaze of the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal (such a mind-bogglingly stupid animal, it assumes that if you can’t see it, it can’t see you); you can wave your towel in emergencies as a distress signal, and of course dry yourself off with it if it still seems to be clean enough.

More importantly, a towel has immense psychological value. For some reason, if a strag (strag: non-hitch hiker) discovers that a hitch hiker has his towel with him, he will automatically assume that he is also in possession of a toothbrush, face flannel, soap, tin of biscuits, flask, compass, map, ball of string, gnat spray, wet weather gear, space suit etc., etc. Furthermore, the strag will then happily lend the hitch hiker any of these or a dozen other items that the hitch hiker might accidentally have “lost”. What the strag will think is that any man who can hitch the length and breadth of the galaxy, rough it, slum it, struggle against terrible odds, win through, and still knows where his towel is is clearly a man to be reckoned with.

Hence a phrase that has passed into hitchhiking slang, as in “Hey, you sass that hoopy Ford Prefect? There’s a frood who really knows where his towel is.” (Sass: know, be aware of, meet, have sex with; hoopy: really together guy; frood: really amazingly together guy.)

One of my long-delayed goals is to write up a good all-purpose Tribute to Douglas Adams post, and another Towel Day has come without me doing so. Next year . . . or later. Adams is one of those handful of authors that I can’t imagine I’d be the same without having encountered/read/re-read/re-re-re-re-read, and so I do my best to pay a little tribute to him each year, even if it’s just carrying around a towel (I’ve only been able to get one of my sons into Adams, he’s the taller, thinner one below).

TowelDay.org is the best collection of resources on the day, this year were able to post this pretty cool video, shot on the ISS by astronaut Samantha Cristoforetti.

Woof by Spencer Quinn

WoofWoof

by Spencer Quinn
Series:Bowser and Birdie, #1

Hardcover, 293 pg.
Scholastic Press, 2015
Read: May 14 – 15, 2015

One quick sniff and I knew that BLTs were in that basket. BLTs were an odd human invention, sandwiches filled with weird tasteless stuff no one in their right mind would be interested in — except for the bacon. In case you missed that, I’ll mention it again: bacon!

This is just cute. That’s all there is to it. A cute MG novel, featuring a nice little girl with a lot of spunk and her new dog, Bowser. A fun mystery novel with a lot of heart.

Birdie Gaux is an 11-year-old mix of Flavia De Luce, Izzy Spellman, and Inspector Gadget’s niece Penny (from the original cartoon, natch). Fiery, spunky, determined, far too curious and independent, a little too comfortable with shading the truth/outright lying, with a clever dog friend. While her mother works on an offshore oil rig for months at a time, Birdie lives with her grandmother and helps in the family’s struggling bait shop. She doesn’t remember much about her father, a police detective killed in the line of duty when she was very young.

After getting Birdie her late birthday gift, our new friend Bowser, Grammy and Birdie stop at the bait shop to discover they’ve been robbed, while the comic relief employee napped a bit. The only thing taken was Grammy’s stuffed marlin — a family heirloom passed down from her father after his return from World War II. The adults — Grammy, the Sheriff, and the napper are ready to write the marlin off as a lost cause, but Birdie’s not.

Birdie and Bowser are galvanized into action — she’s sure she smells cigar smoke in the shop, and Bowser finds the remains of a cigar nearby for her, convincing Birdie that she’s right. The Sheriff is a nice enough guy, who’s more than willing to listen to Birdie’s thoughts about the case (listen — not really act upon) — but he’s not going to invest too much energy into investigating the theft of a dead fish, no matter the sentimental value. So Birdie, with the help of some friends (including the Sheriff’s son) and a nice — and easily confused — woman from the local retirement home, sets about hunting for the missing marlin (and some secrets that may be hidden within).

There’s a little danger, peril and excitement along the way, but nothing inappropriate for the age group. Bowser gets the worst of it, honestly, while Birdie is mostly safe. There’s some hints of problems looming for Grammy, some dark events in Bowser’s past, and that sort of thing. The sharper young readers will catch that, others won’t — it’ll either add some nuance and flavoring to the experience or it won’t — nothing that will affect the understanding of the story.

Quinn is much beloved around here for his series of novels about Bernie, the P. I., and his partner Chet the Dog — narrated, as this book is, by Chet. For the sake of diversity, I was hoping that Bowser wouldn’t narrate the novel in Chet’s voice. But he does — which is mildly disappointing for me, because I’d rather get the original. But as for attracting new readers — particularly a new demographic? It’s perfect. And while sure, I grumbled occasionally while reading — and here — about Bowser being Chet without the Police Dog Training, it’s still a fun voice. One that you have little trouble imagining would belong to a dog.

Not the most demanding of reads, nor the most complex of mysteries, Woof is a pleasant introduction to a new series that I hope will be around quite awhile, I look forward to getting to know Birdie, her dog, her friends and family a lot better. I imagine that soon enough, I won’t be alone, and that Quinn has found himself a whole new fan-base.

—–

3 Stars

The Worst Class Trip Ever by Dave Barry

The Worst Class Trip Eve

The Worst Class Trip Eve http://www.davebarry.com/book-page.php?isbn13=9781484708491
by Dave Barry

Hardcover, 211 pg.
Disney-Hyperion, 2015

Read: May 19, 2015

There’s not a whole lot to say about this one — this is the story of some of clever (and yet dopey) 8th grade students from Miami on a field trip to Washington, D. C., who fall into a strange predicament involving international intrigue, kidnapping, an attack on the White House/President and very, very petty theft. The only other thing you need to know is that Dave Barry wrote it, so it’s goofy and very funny.

The humor is juvenile — even for Barry. Adults who remember the target audience, and can adjust their standards appropriately, should be able to chuckle at this few times. At the very least, you can appreciate the jokes. It’s perfect for the Middle Grade crowd, probably leaning towards the male perspective (or whatever the demographic is that appreciates flatulence-based humor). This is not to say that all kids won’t enjoy it — it’s just that it’ll score better with kids with a particular sense of humor.

It’s silly, fast-paced, some good action, and some ridiculous characters/plotlines. A lot of fun, definitely what anyone who read Big Trouble should expect from the author writing to MG audience. I’m glad I read it, but I suspect that my 11-year-old will enjoy it more than I did.

—–

3 Stars

Kickback by Ace Atkins

KickbackKickback

by Ace Atkins
Series: Spenser, #43

Hardcover, 292 pg.
G.P. Putnam’s Sons , 2015
Read: May 20, 2015

As you may have noticed yesterday, I read Ace Atkin’s latest novel featuring Robert B. Parker’s Spenser. Now, with Ace Atkins/Reed Farrel Coleman taking over Robert B. Parker’s characters it’s really hard for me to be dispassionate/critical — unless they annoy me — or worse (see Michael Brandman, or — <a href="https://irresponsiblereader.com/2014/01/28/murder-in-the-ball-park-by-robert-goldsborough” target=”_blank”>Robert Goldsborough doing that for Rex Stout). I am capable of actual critical thought, I think. I’m pretty sure. But it takes time, and I just want to get this up. Soooo, I’m going to try to throw up some quick thoughts/impressions on Kickback

It started off strong — a couple pages of intro material from a third-person point of view that established a hopeless, inevitable tone. And then we turn the page and get something that might as well be vintage Parker. I smiled like a goofball throughout the note-perfect first chapter. It was like visiting an old, dear friend. Speaking of old friends, loved the callback to The Godwulf Manuscript (which, because I’m that kind of nerd, I feel compelled to point out I recognized before Atkins spelled it out). Atkins has been, and continues to be, skilled at dropping in these bits of Spenser’s background — enough to demonstrate that he knows the world and to satisfy fans like me — but not so much to clutter up things. Still, it’s time for Paul to show up.

As this is the 43rd installment of this series, it’s going to be reminiscent of a few others — there’s a little bit of Small Vices in this, and a couple of others, but this is primarily a new Ceremony, but without the moral ambiguity. In this case, we have judicial (and police) corruption tied to a private prison (in all but name) for adolescents in a small town. Some people have tried to fight this, but it only serves to make things worse — fatally so in some cases. This isn’t anything new to Spenser or crime fiction, in fact, it’s borderline cliché. But Atkins treats it with respect, and uses the tried and true story to reflect on current problems with the prison industry.

Hearkening back to Crimson Joy (maybe others that I’m not remembering), we have some third-person intercalary chapters — more successful than the serial killer’s POV in the earlier work. These trace the arrest, court appearance and detention of one of the town’s youth. Not Spenser’s client — but someone he befriends. The knot in my stomach got tighter and tighter each time. Really well done.

I continue to like Susan à la Atkins, she’d gotten boring during Parker’s later years, but she’s back and fun. Hawk is still Hawk, but Atkins has turned back the clock a bit on him, too. I’m going to stop here before I mention how Belson, Quirk, and so on have received similar treatment. This has reinvigorated the series, renewed my interest (and, from what I’ve seen) and the interest of others — this is just what Spenser needed. Yes, I’d rather Parker had done this — but I’m glad Atkins has in his place.

I do think the last fifty pages or so were rushed — things outside the detention center seemed rushed — another chapter or two spent gathering evidence might have helped me accept things. Still, so many other things in this one worked so well, I was able to overlook it (I might have harsher things to say later on, or with future re-reads).

I’m giving this 5 Stars. I’m not utterly convinced it earned it — if it was another author with another P.I., I might not. At the same time, from page 1 on, I was hooked and only put this down for a few seconds at a time when work required it until I was done. I laughed, I worried about a couple of clients, I had fun — I was thoroughly engaged the whole time. Which pretty much equals 5 Stars no matter who wrote it and who starred in it. I really, really liked it — but I could’ve told you that was probably going to be the case months ago when I ordered it.

—–

5 Stars

Opening Lines – Kickback

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

On the first day of February, the coldest day of the year so far, I took it as a very good omen that a woman I’d never met brought be a sandwich. I had my pair of steel-toed Red Wings kicked up on the corner of my desk, thawing out, when she arrived. My morning coffee and two corn muffins were a distant memory.

She laid down the sandwich wrapped in wax paper and asked if my name was Spenser.

“Depends on the sandwich.”

“A grinder from Coppa in the South End,” she said. “Extra provolone and pickled cherry peppers.”

“Then my name is Spenser,” I said. “With an S like the English poet.”

“Rita said you were easy.”

“If you mean Rita Fiore, she’s not one to judge.”

from Kickback by Ace Atkins


(technically, not the opening lines, but this is the beginning of Chapter 1, so it sorta counts)

Gone Readin’ – Robert B. Parker’s Kickback by Ace Atkins

Just as soon as I start to make headway on my backlog, I pull something like this…

No post today, unless something big happens — yesterday, I received the latest Spenser novel, Kickback by Ace Atkins and well…nothing’s happening ’til I’m done with that.
Kickback
Even if you don’t like Spenser, or Atkins, if you’re reading this blog, I trust you understand the impulse.

See you tomorrow.

add atkins to the authors, tag this with current reading, etc.

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