There are really only so many reactions a father can have when, thanks to his young daughter, his home and life are invaded by the Disney Princesses. Through DVDs, toys, costumes, books, clothing these characters can thoroughly infiltrate a family’s collective consciousness. A dad can run to such things as home improvement projects, sports, denial, or attempts to turn their daughter into a Tom-boy; but once these girls take the beachhead of your home, they don’t give an inch of it back for years.
Jim C. Hines took a different tack–the author of the satirical Jig the Goblin fantasy series started writing. The result “is a cross between the old (pre-Disney) fairy tales and Charlie’s Angels.”
The book opens with one of Cinderella’s (Danielle) stepsisters trying to assassinate the new princess a few months after the whole glass slipper incident. Danielle, some of her animal friends and another princess in disguise put a stop to that, but discover that Danielle’s husband has been kidnapped.
Thankfully, the Queen is the head of a covert operations team (or the fairy tale equivalent thereof) made up of princesses who rarely qualify as damsels in distress.
The book works pretty well as a light, fun fantasy adventure. When you throw in Hines’ reworking of the original fairy tales–well, that’s icing on the cake (thick, rich and creamy icing). Happily ever after isn’t everything we tend to think it is.
“Are all the tales like this?” Danielle asked. “Did Jack Giantslayer fall into despair and poverty? Was Red Riding Hood murdered by wolves seeking revenge for the death of their kin?”
Talia snorted. “No, Red survived. But that kind of thing changes a woman.”
“Changes her how?”
“The Lady of the Red Hood is one of the most feared assassins this side of Akenkar.”
Looking forward to the next two installments of this series.
This is by no means the best written book I’ve read this year–which is a shame, because Carrie Fisher is a skillful writer. It is, however, probably the funniest thing I’ve read since
Just knocked off Jim Butcher’s
If one’s going to write about superheroes there’s really only so much you can do–A. Write a prose equivalent of a comic book or B. Go out of your way to make sure that no once can describe your work as an example of “A.” Typically, the “A” books are shoddy, and wouldn’t be accepted as a script by a decent comic publisher; and the “B” books are so caught up in not being “A”s that they lose something–they might do well exploring the nature of “heroes” or satirizing/politicizing the genre or whatever, but they don’t work as novels.
I was able to steal 10 minutes here and there, and was able to finish Elvis Cole’s latest adventure. This is the best Cole in years (
I know not all of you read comics, but for the few of you who do regularly/occasionally, let me heartily recommend
If I had more energy, I’d go through the archives and see how many of Lee Goldberg’s