Category: Humor Page 2 of 6

Some of the Guidance I Received on Giving Terry Pratchett Another Try

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On September 18, 2023

In Humor, Miscellany

Last week, I asked for some advice on where I should start with Discworld books, since my attempts with reading The Colour of Magic and The Light Fantastic didn’t really leave me wanting more.

I received some good input, and thought I’d pass some of it along (if only so there’s a central location for me to come back to later for reference).

The overall consensus was that I picked a couple of bad ones to start with. But beyond that,

bullet Mike Finn (you should read his blog, by the way), said (in part):

Here’s the best map I know of for showing the reading order of the various Discworld subgroups.

https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/1/12/Discworld_Reading_Order_Guide_3.0_(cropped)

My favourites are the Watch novels and the Witches novels.
The Watch novels start with Guards! Guards!
The Witches novels start with Equal Rites.

If you read those two and still don’t like Pratchett then he’s probably not for you.

bullet K.R.R. Lockhaven (you should read his books, by the way) admitted:

I…um…have to admit that I haven’t actually read ALL of them. Most, though. I’m partial to the City Watch books, starting with Guards! Guards! Maybe Small Gods would be good, too. It’s a standalone.

bullet Lockhaven also pointed me to Fiction Fans podcast’s “Bonus Episode: Which Discworld Book Should You Read First?” It was an interesting chat–the episode notes include:

They… don’t really give a straight answer. But they DO know which book you should NOT read first. You’re welcome.

Possible First Reads:
Wyrd Sisters (if you like witches)
Reaper Man (if you like Death)
Small Gods (if you want a good standalone with religious satire)
Hogfather (if you like Christmas)
Monstrous Regiment (if you want a good standalone with scathing social commentary)
Going Postal (if you like con artists)

bullet wyrdsis (an account name that suggests they might know a thing or two about the series), chimed in with:

…I got really into it with the Witches (starting with Equal Rites), and Ankh Morpork City Watch (starting with Guards! Guards!), then Hogfather, Thief of Time, The Truth, the von Lipwig series….etc

bullet David Frew sent me to

A DISCWORLD PRIMER*

*or, why should I read this thing that everyone keeps going on about?

by Micah @rincewind.run (another account name that suggests they might know a thing or two about the series).
bullet Gary Hayenga chipped in:

The first two novels are very different than the subsequent novels. As the previous commenter mentioned there are several sub-series set on the Discworld. Based on the other things you’ve posted about liking here I would recommend that you start with The Watch series, starting with Guards! Guards!. The second book in that series is even better.

I’m Curious: I’d Like to Give Terry Pratchett Another Try and Could Use Some Guidance

By

On September 11, 2023

In Humor, Miscellany

Ten years ago (and yes, it feels strange saying that), I posted this (there’s a question coming at the end, but bear with me so this isn’t a 3 sentence post).
Received this e-mail today from someone submitting a comment to the “Suggest a Book” form:

Do have reviews on ANY Terry Pratchett book. Would love to “hear” your thoughts…

Thanks for the question! Not just because I like getting suggestions/e-mails, but also because I had nothing else to post today, having opted for sleep and time with my family over finishing a book.*

Pratchett’s a legend — almost universally praised and adored. I read the first two Discworld novels back in 2011, and didn’t care for ’em. Which I assume is an indictment of me, my taste, and very likely my morality, patriotism and love for my wife. So, readers, is it just these first couple of books? Should I start with a different Pratchett book? I’d like to bask in his particular brand of genius, just need a hand.

Anyway, I wasn’t going to bother dusting these off as they’re so short, but since you asked, here are my 2-star reviews for the first two Discworld novels.

The Colour of Magic (Discworld, #1)The Colour of Magic

by Terry Pratchett
Hardcover, 183 pg.
St. Martin’s Press, 1983

It was amusing enough–chuckle-inducing in more than one place–but I never connected with it, not the story, not the characters, not the world. Left me pretty durn blah.

Probably just me, eh?

The Light Fantastic (Discworld, #2)The Light Fantastic

by Terry Pratchett
Hardcover, 189 pg
Colin Smythe, 1987

I liked this one better than The Colour of Magic — it was better constructed, the characters were a touch more believable as characters, and I certainly laughed more. But, I had the same issues with this as I had with the previous.

I just didn’t care about anything or anyone, and saw no reason why I should.

Funny, clever stuff, and I couldn’t wait to be done with it.

—–

* Not that I didn’t try for all three

Here’s My Question

I’ve been thinking lately that I really should try Terry Pratchett again. Given the above…where should I start? Give The Colour of Magic another try? Start with something else? As I understand it, Discworld novels need not be read sequentially, do I have that right? So where would be a good place to jump in? Or what would be a good stand-alone-ish novel to try?

I know I have Pratchett lovers out there, and I’d love to hear your thoughts.

I’m Curious: What Are Some of the Funniest Books You’ve Read?

By

On August 30, 2023

In Humor, Miscellany

I know, I know, this can be a moving target (and should be, depending on where you are in life)…

But I’m still going to ask: What is the funniest, or what books are amongst the funniest, you’ve read? I’m looking over the books I have coming up for the rest of the year, and by and large, we’re talking about some dark reading. I could use some laughs…so help me find an idea or three, will you?

Here’s my rather incomplete answer (that I ripped off from something I told K.R.R. Lockhaven last year). I should probably tweak this list before I publish, but I don’t have the time…

Off the top of my head…
bullet The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams (well, everything Adams wrote)
bullet Mechanical Failure by Joe Zieja
bullet The Fran Lebowitz Reader
bullet The Android’s Dream by John Scalzi
bullet Heartburn by Nora Ephron
bullet Dave Barry Slept Here by Dave Barry
bullet The Spellman Files by Lisa Lutz
bullet White House Mess by Christopher Buckley
bullet Sir Apropos of Nothing by Peter David
bullet Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? by Mindy Kaling
bullet High Fidelity by Nick Hornby
bullet You’ll Never Believe What Happened to Lacey: Crazy Stories About Racism by Amber Ruffin,
Lacey Lamar
bullet The Tales of Pell by Delilah S. Dawson, Kevin Hearne

Incidentally, you should read the entire series of interviews Lockhaven did about humor in fiction–some great things were said, and then there was my entry, too.

I look forward to your recommendations!

PUB DAY REPOST: 100 Places to See After You Die by Ken Jennings: The Tour Guide No One Wants, But Everyone Needs

By

On June 13, 2023

In Humor, Non-Fiction

100 Places to See After You Die100 Places to See After You Die:
A Travel Guide to the Afterlife

by Ken Jennings

DETAILS:
Publisher: Scribner Book Company
Publication Date: June 13, 2023
Format: eARC
Length: 304 pg.
Read Date: May 24-26, 2023


What’s 100 Places to See After You Die About?

Ken Jennings provides a handy tour guide through one hundred visions of the afterlife for the modern reader. Complete with tips on places to see, areas to avoid, local lingo, bits of trivia, dining tips, and so on, it’s just the kind of thing you’re going to want to peruse before you shuffle off this mortal coil, so you know where to go.

The book is broken down into: Mythology, Religion, Books, Movies, Music and Theater, and Miscellaneous. Then (alphabetically) Jennings looks at a variety of afterlife locales in each category.

For example, the Books section covers:

Aslan’s Country • The Bridge • The Cemetery • The Empyrean • The Five Lessons • Half-Life • The Inbetween • Inferno • The Kingdom • King’s Cross • Mansoul • The Null • Pandemonium • Paradiso • The Parish • Purgatorio • Riverworld • The Third Sphere • The Time Bubble • The Undying Lands • The Valley of the Shadow of Life*

* From Lewis’ The Chronicles of Narnia and The Great Divorce; O’Connor’s story “Revelation”; Saunders’ Lincoln in the Bardo; Milton’s Paradise Lost; Albom’s The Five People You Meet in Heaven; Dick’s Ubik; Sebold’s The Lovely Bones; Dante’s The Divine Comedy; Twain’s “Captain Stormfield’s Visit to Heaven”; Rowling’s Harry Potter; Moore’s Jerusalem; King’s Revival; O’Brien/O’Nolan’s The Third Policeman; Farmer’s Riverworld; Matheson’s What Dreams May Come; Oliver’s The Time Bubble; and Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings.

Jennings describes each place with wit, humor, Dad Jokes, puns, irreverence, and plenty of facts.

Dancing Through a Minefield

It’s one thing to talk about places like Valhalla, Hades, The Bad Place, Bill & Ted’s Bogus destination, or Futurama‘s Robot Hell in a light-hearted or flippant fashion. It’s an entirely different can of worms to discuss the LDS Three Kingdoms of Glory, Jannah, Jahannam, Ariel Toll Houses/Telonia, and so on—in the same tone.

I will not say that Jennings was able to fully succeed in discussing the afterlives described in some major religions in an unoffensive manner. Primarily because I’m not an adherent of any of the religions he discussed, so my tolerance for that is really high. Had he tackled something I believe in, I very well could’ve been at risk of insult.

That said, I think he did okay. Yes, he walks close to irreverent. But he maintains a decent degree of respect. The humor largely comes from the way he describes the beliefs not at the expense of an article of faith.

Still, some people might want to skip over a chapter or two if they’re worried about getting their toes stepped on. (but those people probably aren’t going to be reading this book in the first place)

A Few Highlights

Ohhh, there are just so many.

The Books section was my favorite—followed closely by Movies and Television—this is the kind of thing I blog about, think about, and so on, so it makes sense that those sections resonated with me most. The Books section, in particular, discussed portions of those works in ways I could really sink my teeth into.

But there were multiple highlights in each section—I learned a lot about D&D, I couldn’t help singing “Ghost Riders in the Sky” during that chapter, I think he pointed out a good plot hole in It’s a Wonderful Life (I don’t know, maybe he’s not the first), I loved the discussion of Bosch’s paintings, and so on.

The chapter on The Good Life was fantastic—a great systemization of the series’ take on the afterlife (and several characters). The chapter on Nirvana was sublime.

Books, movies, mythologies, songs, etc. that I’ve never heard of, much less, read/watched/listened to/studied were described in enough detail that I could appreciate those chapters and maybe even develop an interest in following up on.

Problems/Quibbles/Things That Didn’t Work for Me

Um. Hold on, I’ll think of something.

…

…

oh! Here’s a problem: the eARC came with the typical “don’t quote from this version until verified by the published edition” warning—but it was more pronounced than usual. I really want to use samples throughout this post, but I can’t. (and I wouldn’t have even without this warning, because I know things get tweaked in the final stages).

Actually, I do have a legitimate gripe. There are no footnotes—or even endnotes*—for anything that Jennings says. Most of what the book contains could fall into the category of “General Knowledge” (at least for people who know anything about The Good Place, Dante, or the religion of the Maori). But I wouldn’t have minded a point in the right direction to learn some more details, context, or background on many, many, many things Jennings wrote about.

* It’s been decades since I haven’t asked why a book uses endnotes when footnotes exist, and yet I’d have liked to have them in this book more than the nothing we got. That’s how much this bothers me.

I Can’t Help Pondering…

Given the argument of Planet Funny: How Comedy Took Over Our Culture by Ken Jennings, I wonder about his approach to the subject of the afterlife. Sure, even Planet Funny was frequently funny as it critiqued the overuse of humor in our culture, but for his next book to take this tone, seems to undercut the work.

Or maybe it just shows that even as he can look with clear eyes at some of the weaknesses of our culture, he’s part of it and is subject to the influences. It’s almost like he’s human.

So, what did I think about 100 Places to See After You Die?

This section is going to be shorter than usual because I think I’ve pretty much answered the question already.

From the “throwaway lines” to the big ideas, this was a delight from start to finish. I thoroughly enjoyed this approach to the subjects—quick hits that tell you the essentials and make you smile while telling them.

Jennings’ style is one I aspire to, and can’t say enough good things about.

I can’t think of a reason not to give this 5 Stars, but my gut tells me not to. So I’ll knock it down to 4 1/2 (which isn’t a big deal since Goodreads, NetGalley, etc. won’t let me use 1/2 stars, I’ll round up). It’s educational, it’s entertaining, and it’s thought-provoking. You can’t go wrong with this.

Disclaimer: I received this eARC from Scribner via NetGalley in exchange for this post and my honest opinion—thanks to both for this.

4 1/2 Stars

This post contains an affiliate link. If you purchase from it, I will get a small commission at no additional cost to you. As always, the opinions expressed are my own.

100 Places to See After You Die by Ken Jennings: The Tour Guide No One Wants, But Everyone Needs

By

On May 30, 2023

In Humor, Non-Fiction

100 Places to See After You Die100 Places to See After You Die:
A Travel Guide to the Afterlife

by Ken Jennings

DETAILS:
Publisher: Scribner Book Company
Publication Date: June 13, 2023
Format: eARC
Length: 304 pg.
Read Date: May 24-26, 2023


What’s 100 Places to See After You Die About?

Ken Jennings provides a handy tour guide through one hundred visions of the afterlife for the modern reader. Complete with tips on places to see, areas to avoid, local lingo, bits of trivia, dining tips, and so on, it’s just the kind of thing you’re going to want to peruse before you shuffle off this mortal coil, so you know where to go.

The book is broken down into: Mythology, Religion, Books, Movies, Music and Theater, and Miscellaneous. Then (alphabetically) Jennings looks at a variety of afterlife locales in each category.

For example, the Books section covers:

Aslan’s Country • The Bridge • The Cemetery • The Empyrean • The Five Lessons • Half-Life • The Inbetween • Inferno • The Kingdom • King’s Cross • Mansoul • The Null • Pandemonium • Paradiso • The Parish • Purgatorio • Riverworld • The Third Sphere • The Time Bubble • The Undying Lands • The Valley of the Shadow of Life*

* From Lewis’ The Chronicles of Narnia and The Great Divorce; O’Connor’s story “Revelation”; Saunders’ Lincoln in the Bardo; Milton’s Paradise Lost; Albom’s The Five People You Meet in Heaven; Dick’s Ubik; Sebold’s The Lovely Bones; Dante’s The Divine Comedy; Twain’s “Captain Stormfield’s Visit to Heaven”; Rowling’s Harry Potter; Moore’s Jerusalem; King’s Revival; O’Brien/O’Nolan’s The Third Policeman; Farmer’s Riverworld; Matheson’s What Dreams May Come; Oliver’s The Time Bubble; and Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings.

Jennings describes each place with wit, humor, Dad Jokes, puns, irreverence, and plenty of facts.

Dancing Through a Minefield

It’s one thing to talk about places like Valhalla, Hades, The Bad Place, Bill & Ted’s Bogus destination, or Futurama‘s Robot Hell in a light-hearted or flippant fashion. It’s an entirely different can of worms to discuss the LDS Three Kingdoms of Glory, Jannah, Jahannam, Ariel Toll Houses/Telonia, and so on—in the same tone.

I will not say that Jennings was able to fully succeed in discussing the afterlives described in some major religions in an unoffensive manner. Primarily because I’m not an adherent of any of the religions he discussed, so my tolerance for that is really high. Had he tackled something I believe in, I very well could’ve been at risk of insult.

That said, I think he did okay. Yes, he walks close to irreverent. But he maintains a decent degree of respect. The humor largely comes from the way he describes the beliefs not at the expense of an article of faith.

Still, some people might want to skip over a chapter or two if they’re worried about getting their toes stepped on. (but those people probably aren’t going to be reading this book in the first place)

A Few Highlights

Ohhh, there are just so many.

The Books section was my favorite—followed closely by Movies and Television—this is the kind of thing I blog about, think about, and so on, so it makes sense that those sections resonated with me most. The Books section, in particular, discussed portions of those works in ways I could really sink my teeth into.

But there were multiple highlights in each section—I learned a lot about D&D, I couldn’t help singing “Ghost Riders in the Sky” during that chapter, I think he pointed out a good plot hole in It’s a Wonderful Life (I don’t know, maybe he’s not the first), I loved the discussion of Bosch’s paintings, and so on.

The chapter on The Good Life was fantastic—a great systematization of the series’ take on the afterlife (and several characters). The chapter on Nirvana was sublime.

Books, movies, mythologies, songs, etc. that I’ve never heard of, much less, read/watched/listened to/studied were described in enough detail that I could appreciate those chapters and maybe even develop an interest in following up on.

Problems/Quibbles/Things That Didn’t Work for Me

Um. Hold on, I’ll think of something.

…

…

oh! Here’s a problem: the eARC came with the typical “don’t quote from this version until verified by the published edition” warning—but it was more pronounced than usual. I really want to use samples throughout this post, but I can’t. (and I wouldn’t have even without this warning, because I know things get tweaked in the final stages).

Actually, I do have a legitimate gripe. There are no footnotes—or even endnotes*—for anything that Jennings says. Most of what the book contains could fall into the category of “General Knowledge” (at least for people who know anything about The Good Place, Dante, or the religion of the Maori). But I wouldn’t have minded a point in the right direction to learn some more details, context, or background on many, many, many things Jennings wrote about.

* It’s been decades since I haven’t asked why a book uses endnotes when footnotes exist, and yet I’d have liked to have them in this book more than the nothing we got. That’s how much this bothers me.

I Can’t Help Pondering…

Given the argument of Planet Funny: How Comedy Took Over Our Culture by Ken Jennings, I wonder about his approach to the subject of the afterlife. Sure, even Planet Funny was frequently funny as it critiqued the overuse of humor in our culture, but for his next book to take this tone, seems to undercut the work.

Or maybe it just shows that even as he can look with clear eyes at some of the weaknesses of our culture, he’s part of it and is subject to the influences. It’s almost like he’s human.

So, what did I think about 100 Places to See After You Die?

This section is going to be shorter than usual because I think I’ve pretty much answered the question already.

From the “throwaway lines” to the big ideas, this was a delight from start to finish. I thoroughly enjoyed this approach to the subjects—quick hits that tell you the essentials and make you smile while telling them.

Jennings’ style is one I aspire to, and can’t say enough good things about.

I can’t think of a reason not to give this 5 Stars, but my gut tells me not to. So I’ll knock it down to 4 1/2 (which isn’t a big deal since Goodreads, NetGalley, etc. won’t let me use 1/2 stars, I’ll round up). It’s educational, it’s entertaining, and it’s thought-provoking. You can’t go wrong with this.

Disclaimer: I received this eARC from Scribner via NetGalley in exchange for this post and my honest opinion—thanks to both for this.

4 1/2 Stars

This post contains an affiliate link. If you purchase from it, I will get a small commission at no additional cost to you. As always, the opinions expressed are my own.

The Book That No One Wanted to Read by Richard Ayoade, Tor Freeman, Jarvis Cocker, Lydia Fox: In Print or Audio, It’s Just Delightful

By

On May 10, 2023

In Audiobook, Fiction, Humor, YA/MG/Children's Books

I am fully aware that the following post overuses the word “delightful.” I wanted to use it at least a dozen more times. This is both a sign that my working vocabulary needs expansion and that this book is a delight. More the latter than the former.

The Book That No One Wanted to ReadThe Book That No One Wanted to Read

(Hardcover/Audiobook)
by Richard Ayoade
Narrated by Richard Ayoade, Jarvis Cocker, Lydia Fox
Illustrated by Tor Freeman

DETAILS:
Publisher: Walker Books US (hardcover); W.F. Howes, LTD. (audiobook)
Publication Date: March 14, 2023
Format: Hardcover/Audio
Length: 108 pg./49 min.
Read Date: April 4, 2023


What’s The Book That No One Wanted to Read About?

This is tricky without giving the whole thing away…but I think I can get close to it. Maybe more idea of the flavor?

We’re told at the very beginning that this book isn’t like others—other books are written by authors, while this book is written by a book. A book with opinions. For example, about authors:

Take it from me, authors can be quite annoying. They go on and on, filling up up page after page, but they have no idea what it’s like to be a book.

or these parts of Top Five Things That Grate My Gears (I’m only giving selections, but I want to give the whole thing):

1. People who fold the corner of the page to save their place.Have these savages not heard of novelty bookmarks? Or paper?…Which part of your body would you most like to have folded back on itself?*

2. People who underline certain words. ALL THE WORDS ARE IMPORTANT!

3. People who skip to the end. If the end was meant to come sooner, it’d be called “the middle.”

and don’t get it started on Ipswitch.

* The accompanying illustration of examples of ways to fold a body is delightful.

This book then goes on to tell a story in the second person about someone (presumably a middle-grade child, but really it could be anyone) who is going through a very large library and comes across the shelf holding The Book That No One Wanted To Read. That book then begins having a telepathic conversation with the “you” about being a book, the book’s plight as being so ignored, and how “you” can help it.

I’m not sure that makes sense—but it should give you an inkling of what you’re in for.

The Narration

Jarvis Cocker handles the bulk of the narration—he’s the voice of the opinionated Book telling the story, and as such is the voice that describes the “you” walking around. I could listen to his portions on repeat for a few hours at a time and be quite content (when I wasn’t laughing).

Richard Ayoade is the voice of the titular book and brings his distinguishing style to that narration. If you don’t smile listening to him as this character, you’re doing something wrong.

Lydia Fox provides the voice for the middle grader in conversation with the book. She’s just as fantastic as the others, and I only mention her last as I went in order of appearance.

This is one of those multi-narrator audiobooks where all the narrators are equally good—capturing the spirit and tone of the text and bringing it to life. I’d say that Cocker is the best narrator of the three, unless you asked me in the middle of one of Ayoade’s lines. Or while Fox was reading. I just loved all the audio aspects of this book.

The Illustrations

Oh, wow. I love the illustrations—they are absolutely great. It’s a sketchy kind of art, immediately relatable (think Jules Feiffer). They grab you right away and are just delightful—as funny as the text, without overshadowing it. They have the same voice, the same kind of humor, but don’t just retell the jokes in the book—sometimes they riff off them, expand them, and sometimes the humor is just adjacent to the jokes in the text.

I don’t normally recommend this kind of thing, but you can pick up the book and just look at the pictures (and read the captions) and have a good time without bothering with anything The Book is trying to convey.

So, what did I think about The Book That No One Wanted to Read?

When I heard about the book a few months ago, I was intrigued and made a mental note to look into it when it was released. Then I promptly forgot about it until I saw it on my library’s app. I’d intended on getting the text version, but I needed something short, so I jumped on it.

I was charmed instantly and loved the experience so much that I ran out to get the Hardcover so I could see the text, re-read portions—and check out the pictures. I haven’t found the time to read the whole book yet—but I have looked at every illustration and read bits of it a few times. This is why I’m giving you this strange hybrid format post.

If you’re going to encounter this book without the vocal stylings of Fox, Cocker, or Ayoade, you need the illustrations to make up for them. If you’re going to read the book without the benefit of the illustrations, you need narrators as strong as those three.

In case you haven’t noticed, I’m doing much better at conveying my reaction to the book than I am the book itself. The voice and tenor of the book are great—it’s goofy and strange, the humor is occasionally dry, it’s imaginative, it’s affirming and encouraging, it wraps you in a blanket of fun and makes you feel good. The characters all three of them—”you”, The Book That No One Wanted to Read, and the Book telling the story—are the perfect way to convey the contents. You don’t want a lot of characters wandering in and out of this one—keep it simple. But you don’t want this to become a monologue or an essay (although judging by the first and final chapter, it’d be great as one of those), so you need the three voices.

The best thing that comes to mind to compare it to is The Phantom Tollbooth. But shorter. And with the humor dialed up by a factor of 50.

I have one reservation. I’m not sure that the style of humor or the content of all the jokes are going to land right with an American Fifth Grader. It feels, perhaps, too British for that. But then again, American Fifth Graders are exposed to more than I was. Also, this could be the kind of thing that trains an 11-year-old’s sense of humor in the same way that stand-up albums I didn’t fully understand did mine. So what do I know?

Bookish adults are going to have a blast with this. Middle-Grade readers who are into slightly off-kilter books will really enjoy this. Most middle-graders, as far as I know, are slightly off-kilter themselves, so maybe they’re all the right audience. Just give them this book in their preferred format and you’ve likely got a winner.

I adore this book—and think it’s going to be a favorite of mine for years to come. I can’t wait to introduce my grandson to it—and frankly, a few older friends and relatives, too.

4 1/2 Stars

This post contains an affiliate link. If you purchase from it, I will get a small commission at no additional cost to you. As always, the opinions expressed are my own.

Swamp Story by Dave Barry: Florida. Just say it’s Florida.

By

On May 1, 2023

In Fiction, Humor, Mystery/Detective Fiction/Crime Fiction/Thriller

Swamp StorySwamp Story

by Dave Barry

DETAILS:
Publisher: Simon & Schuster
Publication Date: May 2, 2023
Format: eARC
Length: 320 pg.
Read Date: April 19-21, 2023


What’s Swamp Story About?

This is hard to summarize, really. Which is part of the beauty of the book.

Most of the characters in this book aren’t what you’d call likable. They’re not really villains or antagonists, they’re just…people you don’t want to spend time with in real life, people with more greed/ambition than common sense (or decency). There are a couple of guys living in a cabin in the Everglades trying to assemble enough footage for a reality show pilot (basically, the good-looking one of the pair walking around shirtless interacting with native wildlife). Their weed dealer owns a failing convenience store/bait shop and has a “so stupid it just might work” plan to put his family’s store on the map. There’s a would-be talent agent (or just anything to ride the coattails of his buddy who happens to make a little money). Oh, and there’s a lawyer and a cabinet secretary/presidential aspirant, too—can’t forget them.

On the villainous side, there’s the weed dealer’s supplier—a former football player who is still large enough to intimidate active linemen who will not tolerate missed deadlines. Two ex-con brothers who are the textbook definition of nasty are also running around. There’s also an Eastern European gangster and some of his employees from the old country who should make everyone quake with fear.

On the likable side, you have the shirtless would-be star’s girlfriend and mother of his child (who really regrets ever giving him the time of day, no matter how pretty he is). The weed dealer’s brother who really needs something to motivate him to do more than play games on his phone, might have found that motivation in her. You’ve also got a couple of aides to the secretary, who really need a better job. An alcoholic ex-reporter desperate to make a buck is just what the weed dealer wants for his idea. I can’t forget either the aging TV reporter desperate to cling to her former relevance or the champion snake hunter.

Put all these characters in a small geographic region, throw in a large amount of buried Confederate gold and a couple of viral videos, shake well, and serve. Swamp Story is the result.

This Book Could’ve Been Shorter

Around the 70% mark (I’m keeping it vague because I don’t know how it’ll go in the final edition), a couple of the characters have an exchange that essentially goes along these lines:

Character A: I hope nothing else happens.
Character B: What else could happen?
Character A: …

and then there’s a map showing the immediate vicinity and some of the major buildings/landmarks of the story, making it very obvious that, based on what we know, all the characters are really near each other and that the likelihood of them running into each other in the very near future is pretty high. The reader will not be able to look at this map and not start imagining how all that running into each other is going to go.

I made a note at this point, that Barry could’ve ended the novel at that point—that exchange, the map, and the reader’s imagination—and it’d have been a fun and satisfying read.

However, odds are, your imagination isn’t as good as Barry’s is (mine sure isn’t), and as zany as I thought things were going to get from this point, the truth was far zanier. His conclusion to the novel (not just the immediate every character and storyline coming together in one spot, but everything that followed) was better than any of the ideas I came up with (and I liked most of my ideas a lot).

Still, there’s part of me that wishes he’d left things with that line and the map. I’d have laughed hard at that.

So, what did I think about Swamp Story?

I really enjoy reading Barry’s novels, and Swamp Story is no exception. It’s a different kind of humor (largely) than Barry’s columns or books, but it’s just as satisfying. I’d want to say that it’s more subtle, but that’s not true at all. There’s more character-based humor, and some of it’s the dialogue—which strikes you differently than the straight humor pieces he’s best known for.

Now, that said, there’s a scene at the beginning—involving a rich child’s birthday party, a couple of costumed performers, and a difficult-to-crack piñata, that absolutely cracked me up and I’ve been replaying it in my head since I read it—it’s perfect slapstick.

Putting aside the humor, all the story arcs worked really well and I can see toned-down versions of all the arcs working well together in a grim version of this story. I’ve argued recently that a good test of a comedic novel is if the plots would work without the laughs—in this case they largely wood. But they’re so much juicer and more enjoyable in this comic and heightened versions.

There are genuine bad guys, some actual threats, several characters in search of a good idea,* and a couple of people you hope catch a lucky break and escape from everything they’re surrounded by relatively intact. Throw in some good laughs, and some clever writing, and you’ve got yourself a fun few hours of reading. That’s likely what the reader looks for in a Dave Barry novel, and that’s what Swamp Story delivers. Strongly recommended.

* Apologies to Pirandello.

4 Stars

Disclaimer: I received this eARC from Simon & Schuster via NetGalley in exchange for this post—thanks to both for this.

This post contains an affiliate link. If you purchase from it, I will get a small commission at no additional cost to you. As always, the opinions expressed are my own.

RE-ISSUE DAY REPOST: The Part About the Dragon Was (Mostly) True by Sean Gibson: A Hilarious Fantasy Filled with Adventure and Shenanigans. Definitely Shenanigans.

By

On April 4, 2023

In Fantasy, Fiction, Humor

The Part About the Dragon Was (Mostly) TrueThe Part About the Dragon Was (Mostly) True

by Sean Gibson

DETAILS:
Publisher: The Parliament House
Publication Date: December 10, 2020
Format: Kindle Edition
Length: 358 pg.
Read Date: March 10-12, 2022

I am, if not the most well-known bard in Erithea (yet), arguably the most talented, and unarguably the cleverest. I also wouldn’t quibble if you suggested that I’m the most beautiful, but that’s just because I’m very agreeable (and beautiful)…

Decades ago, I was sworn to secrecy regarding the true story of the great and terrible “Dragonia,” but recent developments have released me from that promise, and so I can finally tell the tale.

A Quick Bit About the Re-issue

You should probably just read what Sean Gibson said over on his website, but I’ll share a snippet:

Bibliophiles the world over know there’s nothing quite like the feel of a hardcover book in your hands, especially when it’s nattily attired in a gorgeously illustrated dust jacket. It’s so much more than a book—it’s an experience. The story pulsating between the covers, a mystical alchemy of ink and imagination exponentially greater than the sum of its parts, guides you on a journey to an infinity of impossible destinations. When you’re reluctantly ready to return to reality, the stolid feel of those very same covers, just one design element of a marvel of engineering that can’t possibly be improved upon, slowly draws you back—changed, bettered, by the experience, somehow made more whole.

With that spirit in mind (or, perhaps, despite that spirit), Parliament House Press has re-issued this novel in hardcover and brought along Mateusz Wisniewski to provide this dazzling new cover. I liked the original cover, but this one is the kind you want on a hardcover.

I’d love to tell you exactly how snazzy this cover looks in person, but for two days now the tracking information says, “The shipping label has been created. Your package will be picked up by the carrier soon. Check back for updates on your delivery, or sign up for notifications.” Woe is me. You should head over to your local bookstore, Bookshop.org, or wherever you get your books and get your hands on this edition* today!

* Or, like me, an annoying and nowhere-near-as-attractive status update.

Enough about that, let’s talk about what’s behind the cover—as great as the cover is, this is the best part:

What’s The Part About the Dragon Was (Mostly) True About?

This is that true story about Dragonia, told alongside the “official” account so the reader can see how the details were adjusted and tweaked to create the story everyone knows.

The town (or village, depending on who you ask) of Skendrick is being terrorized by a dragon—crops are being ruined, trade is disrupted, and the town is about to fall apart. Desperate, they put out a call for adventurers to come and kill the dragon. But they get no takers—so they go to Plan B. The villagers (or townspeople) pool their meager resources to hire a bard. This bard is to compose a song to make the attempt to kill the dragon sound appealing enough—and its treasure (which may or may not actually exist) enticing enough—to get a band of adventurers to come.

This is where Heloise comes in. She takes the gig and soon gets a new and yet unaccomplished band of adventurers to take up the call to action. I don’t want to get into describing the group, you want to meet them in the book.

They encounter difficulties from without and within; nasty, malodorous geography; orcs and other creatures; and, well, the dragon.

Heloise the Bard

“You’re not half as funny as you think you are, as I suspect you have a very high opinion of yourself.”

“My opinion of myself is in direct proportion to my amazingness,” I said sweetly.

The half-elf, Heloise the Bard is our narrator—as you can tell from the quotations above, she has a fairly high opinion of herself and her abilities. She’s also rather impressed with her hair and certain other physical attributes. Probably her greatest skill is self-promotion.

She decides to accompany the adventurers, to chronicle their journey and the outcome of their clash with the dragon. Her wit and quick thinking prove valuable to their effort and her particular set of skills make all the difference.

She is a hoot. It’d be easy for Heloise to be an annoying, over-the-top character, but somehow Gibson keeps her as an entertaining, over-the-top character. I’ve been trying to come up with a character to compare her to, and I’m failing. Maybe she’s the Fantasy version of Evanovich’s Lula, except Heloise has the skills that Lula thinks she has. Maybe she’s the equivalent of High Fidelity‘s Barry. Somewhere in the Venn Diagram featuring Fantasy, Lula, and Barry, I guess.

She appears in a couple of other books by Gibson, and I’m eager to spend some more time with her.

The Humor

The section could easily be merged with the previous one because the humor displayed in the book is primarily Heloise’s. The jokes are pretty much non-stop—even in the middle of fight scenes, or when death is nigh. The danger is still present, and the combat (and so on) is as deadly as it would be in another book—it’s just surrounded by laughs.

It didn’t take me long before I’d highlighted too many lines to quote—not that it stopped me from going on. My notes on this one are ridiculous. I kept chuckling throughout the reading. I probably would’ve finished the book in 2/3 the time, if reacting to the jokes didn’t make me stop reading for a moment.

If you’ve read The Tales of Pell, you’ve got a good idea for the pace of the jokes—and tone of the book, too.

There’s slapstick, there’s scatological humor, a great Meatloaf (the singer) line, some fantastic bursts of alliteration for the sake of a laugh, some general silliness, clever dialogue, and…honestly, I’m having a hard time thinking of a kind of humor that’s not in there. There’s a running gag (that I’ve alluded to) throughout about whether Skendrick is a town or a village—I can’t tell you how often it’s brought up. And the joke works every time—I should’ve gotten sick of it, and I never did. I don’t know how Gibson pulled that off, but that alone is the mark of a fantastic humor writer.

In addition to The Tales of Pell, if you’ve enjoyed Christopher Healy, Dave Barry, K.R.R. Lockhaven, Peter David, Scott Meyer, Joe Zieja, Jim C. Hines’ Jig the Goblin series, or John Scalzi—you’re going to dig the humor here. And if you dig the humor, you’re going to really enjoy the book. It’s that simple.

So, what did I think about The Part About the Dragon Was (Mostly) True?

You know by this point that one of my main goals in telling this story is to show that the adventuring life isn’t all it’s thought to be. It’s mostly boring, frustrating, dangerous (though not excitingly dangerous), smelly (dear gods, so smelly), and not particularly lucrative. Occasionally, however, it’s exactly how the songs make it sound, and in those moments, it’s easy to see why people—even smart, capable people like Nadi—would devote their lives to doing something so irrational. Let the record show that entering a dragon’s lair for the first time is one of those moments, and it’s fair to say that each member of our intrepid band experienced more than a frisson of excitement as we crept across that threshold.

I think it’s pretty clear that I had a blast with this book, but I should probably make that explicit. I had a blast reading this book.

I think I should not that this is not a book to read if you’re in a “find out what happened and get to the end of the story” frame of mind. This is a “enjoy the trip, not the destination”/”stop and smell the roses” kind of book. The destination/what happens is fully satisfying, but the getting-there is so much better.

In addition to the jokes and the dragon, there is a running commentary on what “the adventuring life” is like outside of the glamorous or exciting bits. A lot of fantasy novels will show bits of it, but not enough of them do—and most don’t do it this way. For example, The Part About the Dragon Was (Mostly) True contains more description of various odors than every 99% of the fantasy novels I’ve read by a significant factor. If this were a scratch and sniff book…well, I can’t imagine anyone would stock it—you just don’t want that in your warehouse/store. Sure, it’s silly talking about realism in a book featuring orcs, halflings, elves, etc.—but this factor does ground the book and give it a seriousness (for lack of a better term) that makes this more than a collection of jokes.

This is the funniest book I’ve read in 2022, and I can’t imagine it’ll face much competition. It’s got it all, go get your hands on it.

4 Stars

This post contains an affiliate link. If you purchase from it, I will get a small commission at no additional cost to you. As always, opinions are my own.

You Took the Last Bus Home by Brian Bilston: Do I Dare Eat Some Kale?

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On March 31, 2023

In General Fiction/Literature, Humor

You Took the Last Bus HomeYou Took the Last Bus Home:
The Poems of Brian Bilston

by Brian Bilston

DETAILS:
Publisher: Unbound
Publication Date: April 13, 2021
Format: Paperback
Length: 226 pgs.
Read Date: March 1-29, 2023

Do I need my usual disclaimer about not being a poetry reader here?

Probably not, but I’ll throw it up anyway. This is the fourth time in about 10 years of blogging on this site that I’ve posed about a book of poetry. There’s a reason for that. I typically don’t like them.

There’s also a reason that I had to buy, read, and post about this one—after Facebook’s algorithm inexplicably started showing me his poems for a stretch back in January, I had to read more of them. So I bought this book, and now I have to talk about it. Because I try to do that about every book I read, but primarily because I want more people to have the opportunity to have fun with him.

What’s You Took the Last Bus Home About?

This a lengthy collection of poems (well, maybe not—it’s the lengthiest I own outside of textbooks, anyway) about love, loss, politics, and “everyday places and situations” (as he describes them in the Introduction—which I somehow skipped over until just now). Everyday situations like—someone wanting to borrow a phone charger (and being denied), beards, search engines, playing with a dog, and so on.

Bilston closes the Introduction by saying

I suppose these are not traditionally regarded as being teh stuff of poetry. But there is poetry to be found in anything if you look hard enough.

And Bilston looks that hard.

Playing with Form

One of the best things about poetry is the ability to use form to communicate. To play with the placement of the words on a page, and how they’re presented to get the meaning across—sometimes more effectively than the words used.

Bilston is a master of this.

From decreasing the type size in “Unforseen Consequences” to rotating the text in “Ode to a USB Stick” or something as simple as embracing the traditional shape of a Christmas tree in “Needles” (and then tweaking it), the visual impression of each page got you in the right frame of mind before you started reading.

See also his use of Flow Charts, Org Charts, Excel worksheets, etc.

So, what did I think about You Took the Last Bus Home?

I remember in college classes about poetry there’d be a certain tone of voice used with the phrase, “light verse.” It was eerily similar to the audible sneer used for the term “genre fiction.” And I get that—it’s the same reason that comedies are almost never nominated for an Oscar. It’s not right, but I get it.

But to brush this collection off because Bilston frequently brings the funny is a mistake. This is some really clever work–when he’s funny and when he’s not. The fact that he’s so frequently amusing (to one degree or another) means that when he drops that and goes for serious, earnest, or thoughtful—those are even more powerful (for example, “Refugees”). It shouldn’t be overlooked that he frequently is thoughtful and humorous in the same poem.

I like the creativity, I adore the wordplay, and—as always—I’m a sucker for anyone who makes me laugh/chortle/giggle/smile on the majority of the pages. I audibly laughed at the ninth poem—and several after that. My favorite haiku ever is to be found in these pages (and probably most of the top ten of that list, too*)

* A list that I didn’t realize I’d need/want/have until I started this book.

Did I love every poem? No. Did I skim a few? Yup. But in a collection this size, that’s to be expected, right? Particularly when it comes to someone who isn’t particularly a fan of poetry in the first place. The overwhelming majority of them absolutely worked.

This is a book to spend time with—open it up randomly, or read from cover to cover—whatever. Don’t do it all in one sitting, obviously—although I think it’d be easy to do, I typically read at least two more poems than I intended to per session (usually more than two). But it’s hard to appreciate them if you gorge yourself.

You’re not just going to want to read these yourself—you’re going to want to share these. I also couldn’t help but read a poem to whoever happened to be in the room with me—or make someone else read one that I really appreciated (especially if you needed to see it for full impact). My daughter received several messages from me that consisted of a quick photo of a page or two almost every time I sat down to read this volume.

I can’t say enough good things about this. I’ll be buying more of his work soon.

4 1/2 Stars

This post contains an affiliate link. If you purchase from it, I will get a small commission at no additional cost to you. As always, the opinions expressed are my own.

E.B. White on Dogs edited by Martha White: A Great Collection of Short Pieces

By

On January 5, 2023

In Dogs, Humor, Non-Fiction

E.B. White on DogsE. B. White on Dogs

edited by Martha White

DETAILS:
Publisher: Tilbury House Publishers
Publication Date: March 7, 2016
Format: Paperback
Length: 177 pg.
Read Date: December 28-31, 2022
Support Independent Bookstores - Visit IndieBound.org

Next year, when Dog Show time comes round, we would like to see a wholly new brand of showmanship introduced into the Garden… A dog should be made to work for his ribbon, each breed in his own wise. Pointers should have to point, Shepherds should be required to herd a band of sheep from the east goal to the west goal. Poodles should be required to jump through a paper hoop, not just follow Mrs. Sherman Hoyt around the ring. English bull terriers should be made to count up to ten, retrievers retrieve rubber ducks, Scotties chew up old shoes. Greyhounds should be put over the high hurdles. St. Bernards carry brandy to anyone in the audience who feels weak, preferably us. Beagles would jolly well have to bealge, or shut up. How about it, dogs—are you dogs or mice?

What’s E. B. White on Dogs About?

This is a collection of essays, articles, letters, and other brief notes written by E.B. White about dogs. In other words, it’s what the title says. Most of the entries are very short—1-2 pages, some are a paragraph long—but (especially toward the end), we get some longer letters and essays.

Most are about White’s dogs—particularly Fred, a beloved dachshund. But there are pieces about dog shows and other dogs, too.

A Few Highlights

This is going to be tough, there are just too many options. Something about Dog Shows brought out the best and/or snarkiest in White, and are possibly my favorite moments.

There’s a point where he describes how a dachshund climbs up and down stairs and the optimum height for said stairs. I don’t know about the height, but he described perfectly how our pug uses the stairs and it’s something I’m going to borrow. He had, over the course of his life, multiple dachshunds and his affection for the breed is evident. But you can tell that Fred had a big impact on White—both during and after his death. The piece White wrote after his death is possibly the highlight of the book.

There’s a long (for this book, anyway) piece about taking a dog on its first coon hunting trip—it’s just wonderful. It’s tonally different from most of the book, which probably helps it stand out—but it didn’t need much help.

Some Non-Dog Moments

Not everything in this book is focused on dogs but involves them tangentially. The best of these pieces are about contemporary politics—I knew some of the names, but not all of them, but that didn’t change things really.

There’s an essay from The New Yorker that I’d probably have paid half the purchase price of the book for—it’s called “Khrushchev and I (A Study in Similarities).” Some newspaper published a feature on the Soviet premier, and from what I can tell, it was the puffiest puff piece around. White takes some parts of that feature to show how much he and Khrushchev are alike—they’re devoted to their families, like walking in the woods, and so on. The last paragraph points out some important differences, too—size, amount of hair left on their heads, the fact that White has never threatened to bury America…the usual differences. And just as he has you chuckling in a different way than he has for a few pages, the last line or two are somber and sober. Fantastic stuff.

So, what did I think about E. B. White on Dogs?

Overall, this was a great collection. It does feel like Martha White hit “Ctrl-F” on an electronic version of everything her grandfather had written and pasted the entire contents of that search into this book. Some of the letters contain one sentence about a dog—not always that cleverly written or interesting—and I had to wonder why she bothered, outside of a drive for thoroughness.

I don’t recommend reading too much of this at once—but maybe that’s just me, my attention waned after too many entries. But if you’re familiar with White’s non-children’s writing, or have the desire to be, and enjoy reading about dogs (and a couple of cats, and a squirrel or two)—you’ll enjoy this.

Speaking of his non-children’s writing—in her note to the reader describing the impetus for the book, and their approach to editing, keeping the pieces “largely as they appeared originally, not attempting to mesh the inconsistencies.” (including some phrasing I don’t think you’d get away with today). Martha White says,

The letters…are more casual in style and my Tillbury House editor was surprised to find that the co-author of The Elements of Style did not always get his that and which correct, especially in the early years. Our hands-off policy nearly killed her.

I feel for that editor and can’t help but chuckle about E.B. White’s divergence from his own book.

All in all, this book delivers what the title promises, and if that’s up your alley, you’ll enjoy it. I sure did.

4 Stars
This post contains an affiliate link. If you purchase from it, I will get a small commission at no additional cost to you. As always, the opinions expressed are my own.
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