Tag: Science Fiction Page 30 of 35

Reread Project: So Long, and Thanks For All The Fish by Douglas Adams

So Long, and Thanks For All The FishSo Long, and Thanks For All The Fish

by Douglas Adams
Series: The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy Trilogy, #4

Mass Market Paperback, 214 pg.
Del Rey, 1999
Read: June 14, 2016

Arthur had a swordfish steak and said it made him angry. He grabbed a passing waitress by the arm and berated her.

“Why’s this fish so bloody good?” he demanded, angrily.

“Please excuse my friend,” said Fenchurch to the startled waitress. “I think he’s having a nice day at last.”

I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again: this is my favorite Douglas Adams novel. Sure, The Hitchhiker’s Guide is fantastic and I love it and you can make a strong case that at least one of the Dirk Gently novels is his best (I expect I’ll be doing so in a couple of months) — but this is the one that does it for me.

Unlike the previous three, there is an actual narrative here — it’s not a collection of scenes, jokes, and vignettes loosely tied together. Arthur Dent arrives on Earth (no, really) after traipsing from one end of the galaxy to the next; from the end of the universe, to the beginnings of life on Earth; basically all throughout time and space (sadly, without the blue box). And now he’s trying to re-acclimate to life at home. Which has somehow not been destroyed, neither has his house. In fact, everything’s pretty much like it was before.

Just with everyone convinced that the Vogon Constructor Fleet was a CIA-induced Mass Hallucination. Not everyone believes it, but most do. Two people who don’t believe that are a man named Wonko the Sane and Fenchurch. Both of whom are pretty cool characters.

I’ll skip Wonko, because the name says everything. Fenchurch, on the other hand, is perfect. She’s everything that Trillian never got the chance to be (except in the semi-disastrous final chapters of Life, the Universe, and Everything. She’s funny, smart, sexy — just what Arthur needs. I’d happily read a book just about her.

There’s a mention of Zaphod — briefly — but that’s it. So the zaniness fell into Ford’s capable lap. I’ve always liked Ford better, anyway. And he’s able (as always) to pull off the zaniness, the comedy, the . . . everything without being quite the obnoxious twit that Zaphod is.

Ford’s his usual delusional, clueless, charming, drunken self.

Here was something that Ford felt he could speak about with authority.

“Life,” he said, “is like a grapefruit.”

“Er, how so?”

Well, it’s sort of orangy-yellow and dimpled on the outside, wet and squidgy the middle. It’s got pips inside, too. Oh, and some people have half a one for breakfast.”

“Is there anyone else out there I can talk to?”

Arthur comes out of this one looking pretty good, too. He’s not whining, he’s not just getting pulled around by his dressing gown wherever whim strikes Ford (or Zaphod). He’s mature, capable, witty. He sees a problem or two and solves them (even if one of those problems is just “who was that girl I almost met the other day”?). He’s almost a wholly different guy when he’s home. Which makes him a lot like the rest of us — which is sort of the point of Arthur since we first met him.

One of the highlights of the last book was the section about flying, I’m pretty sure I said that. The section here about flying is better — Arthur teaching Fenchurch, Arthur remembering how to do it in the first place — and then the two of them flying around. It’s just about perfect.

And, of course, there are little bits like:

Of course, one never has the slightest notion what size or shape different species are going to turn out to be, but if you were to take the findings of the latest Mid-Galactic Census report as any kind of accurate guide to statistical averages you would probably guess that the craft would hold about six people, and you would be right.

You’d probably guessed that anyway. The Census report, like most such surveys, had cost an awful lot of money and told nobody anything they didn’t already know — except that every single person in the Galaxy had 2.4 legs and owned a hyena. Since this was clearly not true the whole thing eventually had to be scrapped.

    There’s a few things I’d love to go on and on about, but no one wants to read me gushing and gushing and gushing, so here are the assorted highlights:

  • The zig at the end of the Prologue.
  • Arthur’s biscuit/train station story. Seriously, I just love this.
  • Rob Mckenna
  • Wonko the Sane naming the world The Asylum and his house Outside the Asylum.
  • Wonko the Sane’s name.
  • All the California jokes. Clearly, he’d been vacationing there too much.
  • The whole thing about the lizard government and democracy is both funny and relevant.
  • Chapter 25 is just dandy.

The last chapter or two are a little weak, pretty close to the older books in tone and style. But they work, they are tied into the narrative and star Marvin. So who’s going to complain? Not me.

Really, I’ve got nothing but positive things to say about this. I love it. One of the easiest 5-star ratings I’ve ever given.

—–

5 Stars

Steel Victory by J. L. Gribble

Steel Victory Steel Victory

by J. L. Gribble
Series: Steel Empires, Book 1

Kindle Edition, 216 pg.
Dog Star Books, 2015

Read: June 10 – 11, 2016


This is a doozy to know how to categorize — it’s Post-Apocalyptic (but not really dystopian), it’s Futuristic (but little tech and everyone uses swords), it’s Urban Fantasy (but, pretty different from what you’ve seen before). Basically, this is the kind of thing that
Mike Underwood has been talking about
, the kind of thing that Angry Robot does so well when they list 3 or 4 sub-genres on the back of a book. So, you’ll have to settle for me saying it’s a good story about vampires, weres of various stripes, mages, mercenaries, humans, elves, Romans, and Brits.

The first thing to talk about is the world building — it’s great. Gribble doesn’t get bogged down in the details of the world, but you get the sense that they’re present. And what you are given demonstrate a fleshed-out reality — the magic system, the political structures (within the city and internationally), the races, the history (personal and global) — really she has it all together here. Better yet, she (mostly) explains it bit by bit in a way that serves the story, not bringing it to a halt to give us a lesson.

I’ve started — and deleted — a few versions of a couple of paragraphs talking about the characters and plotlines — they’ve been too detailed/spoilery/boring or vague/confusing/boring. And it’s not her, it’s me — this is an interesting book full of characters you want more of in situations that push them to be their best. I feel really bad that I can’t come up with anything here that works. So let me borrow the official cover copy:

One hundred years ago, the vampire Victory retired from a centuries-long mercenary career. She settled in Limani, the independent city-state acting as a neutral zone between the British and Roman colonies on the New Continent.

Twenty years ago, Victory adopted a human baby girl, who soon showed signs of magical ability.

Today, Victory is a city councilwoman, balancing the human and supernatural populations within Limani. Her daughter Toria is a warrior-mage, balancing life as an apprentice mercenary with college chemistry courses.

Tomorrow, the Roman Empire invades.

The last portion of the book wasn’t entirely satisfying — I liked the way the main storylines wrapped up, and appreciated that by and large you don’t have to come back for a sequel or two for some real closure. But things felt a bit rushed, and I had a couple of other little hangups. There was one character that seemed to get dropped partway through (I don’t think that’s what happened, but felt that way), which was troublesome. About the same time, a cultural movement seemed to peter out a little too quickly. But that could be explained by a focus (both in the narrative and in the city) on the military action. Still, a bit rushed is better than very rushed, or abruptly paused to set up a second book.

From the action of the beginning, to the political intrigue, to the action-filled end this was a pretty entertaining read. I liked this one, I look forward to getting back to this world and characters, and do think that anyone open to reading this genre-mix would appreciate it.

Disclaimer: The author provided me with a copy of this book in exchange for my honest review.

—–

3.5 Stars

The Ghost Rebellion by Pip Ballantine and Tee Morris

The Ghost RebellionThe Ghost Rebellion

by Pip Ballantine and Tee Morris
Series: Ministry of Peculiar Occurrences, #5

eARC/Kindle Edition/Trade Paperback, 268 pg.
Imagine That! Studios, 2016

Read: June 3 – 7, 2016

A little house cleaning first. For the 4 of you who read that bit, you’ll notice the part where I describe what format I read is a little more crowded than usual. When I was sent the eARC, I asked when they’d like me to post this, and was told somewhere around the 10th to be close to the release date, so I glanced at it, but didn’t start reading. Then the Kickstarter copy of the ebook came out before I could start it, and then the (very nice!) paperback arrived in time for me to read the last 80 pages or so. So, yeah, it’s not my normal M.O.

But who cares about that, really? Let’s get on with the book…

“Well then,” Wellington began, “the House of Usher is apparently supplying rebels with inferior, supernatural technology, India is on the brink of war with Mother England, all while a madman possessing the ability to turn ordinary people into ten feet monsters is on the loose.”

Eliza bobbed her head, her lips bent in a smirk. “Just another day at the Ministry.”

“Shall I go put the kettle on?”

“Please.”

Just in case you thought things were going to settle down for the Ministry following the events around the Diamond Jubilee, well, forget it. The Agency is recruiting and training new members, reassigning others, and sending their experienced agents all over to help get things back under control
The somewhat unlikely pairing of Agent Bruce Campbell (and seriously, what a great character/tribute) and Brandon Hill is turning out to be a great combination (even if Hill spent too much time with Kellogg and his kooky health theories last time he was in the States). The two go off to Russia in search of an artifact needed by the Ministry, and find themselves in the middle of something big. Potentially very big. Thankfully, there’s plenty of vodka on hand to help.

Things aren’t going swimmingly for the House of Usher and Jeckyll at the moment, either — there’s some internal shakeups/restructuring with the House which should prove to be important for the Ministry. And Jeckyll’s, well, he’s not taking the loss of his royal patient (and everything else that happened in the last book) too well.

Sophia del Morte, of course, makes her presence known as only she can. When she’s not trying to kill Books and Braun, she’s really one of their most reliable allies. This time she has a vital piece of intelligence or two, that’ll not only impact this book, but (I wager) the next. Also, she brings all the right sorts of weapons to every occasion . . .

Meanwhile, while the Ministry rebuilds, Agents Books and Braun are off trying to take care of Jekyll’s remaining and scattered associates. This brings them to India, where they encounter an old friend, an old acquaintance and some ghosts — literal and figurative. Before they know it, they find themselves in the middle of struggles between the British army and assorted groups of Indian rebels wanting to be rid of said Army (and the rest of the government). The links between Jeckyll and this conflict are surprising, and may put a strain on our protagonists’ relationships with various entities.

One thing that isn’t strained, is the relationship between Books and Braun — their young love is still going strong, and is a pleasure to read. Well, okay, there’s one little strain — Wellington Books himself. We’ve seen hints — signs — of what Usher and his father had done to Wellington, but now we see more than just signs — we see almost the full-fledged results of what they did. These results are both frightening and astonishing (which is pretty much what Eliza and Wellington felt).

I bet I’ve somehow neglected to talk about the chapter titles in any of the previous novels — shame on me. And if I have mentioned them, they need to be mentioned again. They’re easily something overlooked as one reads — because, really, who cares? — these are not to be missed. Witty, understated and full of Steampunk sensibilities. I don’t know if I’ve ever wondered about this before with any book, but I do wonder how much time they spend crafting these. My guess is that it’s harder than it looks.

I enjoyed the new characters (Bruce’s new pal in particular), and getting to see a couple of old ones in new ways. And it’s always fun to see Eliza, Wellington, Bruce, Brandon and Sophia. I just had such a good time with this. In many ways, this book was just setting the table for the next, and final, installment in the series. But the character development, revelations, and overall entertainment value of the book kept this from just being a way to move pieces around. There was real excitement, good character moments (even from an Usher member or two), and a whole lotta fun, with an ending that leaves you really wanting the next installment.. I really can’t wait to see what the authors have in store for us next — it’ll be great.

Disclaimer: I received an eARC copy from the authors in exchange for an honest review. Also, I backed the Kickstarter for this book. Also, I liked every other book in this series, so I wasn’t exactly an objective reader going in. Not that I ever am.

—–

4 Stars

The Cupid Reconciliation by Michael R. Underwood

What? Another Genrenauts/Michael R. Underwood post? Yup. Don’t worry, I’m going to slow down a bit (well, after this and then next week’s post, “What’s in Underwood’s Sock Drawer?”) — but trying to get the word out about the Kickstarter and the series takes some repetition.

I’m pretty sure that there’s a paragraph missing from this — I just don’t know what it was supposed to be about. I may end up revising this tomorrow.

The Cupid ReconciliationThe Cupid Reconciliation

by Michael R. Underwood
Series: Genrenauts, #3

eARC
2016
Read: May 17, 2016

This is my life, Leah thought . . . My amazing, confusing, totally screwed-up life.

Just as Leah is getting to the point that she’s starting to feel comfortable, maybe even a little confident, in her new job — her new life — things get shook up a little. Mallery, the member of the team whose injury led to Leah’s recruitment, is back from her convalescence. That alone will change the team dynamic in the field, and maybe even effect Leah’s standing in the team. The fact that they’re headed to Romantic-Comedy world, Mallery’s specialty, doesn’t help Leah’s spirits (particularly because she’d like that to be her specialty, too).

Speaking of the various worlds, I don’t know if we’d ever been given insight into how life in a Genre World would start to change a person after awhile. Or if we were, it wasn’t explained the way it was here. That was just a cool touch.

While Leah continues to be our point-of-view character, our entry into this world, this is really Mallery’s book. The rest of the team are there, and contribute but the major non-Leah narrative weight is all carried by Mallery. Which I’m fine with, she seems to be a fun character (maybe a little hard to take in real life, but that could just be her nerves about getting into the field/dealing with a probie) and we need to get to know her, but she’s a force of nature.

Mallery beamed, which Leah was realizing was pretty close to the woman’s resting face. Some women had resting bitch face, but Mallery glowed. It was impressive. A little annoying, but impressive.

There was something in the “Coming Next” page in the last episode that made me worry about the relationship between these two not getting off on the right foot — thankfully, it seemed to get off on a decent (if not the right) foot — but nothing’s perfect. The two characters are going to have to fumble a bit to get a strong working relationship.

Don’t get me wrong — King, Roman, and Shirin all had their moments and made their presence felt — but they were bit players in this one. I did appreciate getting to see Roman’s softer side on display, he’s a deeper thinker than you might take him for and his efforts to help the “male lead,” were borderline sweet.

Straightaway when they get to the world, they come up with a strong candidate for the couple causing the breach — and the team is wrong, they have to work harder than the last two times to find where the problem is. I appreciated that move — and didn’t realize until then how smooth that step had gone in the previous adventures.

Maybe it’s because this particular world so closely resembles our own, but Leah got a bit of insight into how the Genrenauts’ activities might seem to one of the people from that world — and it’s not that pretty. The Genrenauts violate the Prime Directive more than Kirk ever did (to put it in genre-terms). And Leah’s not so sure that their particular brand of meddling is all that ethical. And I have to admit, she may have a point. Mallery shuts down that kind of thinking/talk — at least until they’re safely back home. I trust that Leah’s doubts and questions will be all dealt with in a way that’s honest in the near future. Regardless, Leah’s ethical qualms add a good dimension to things.

I enjoyed seeing this world through Genrenaut eyes — the availability of fantastic (and cheap) apartments with amazing views, how easy it is to get a cab, the fact that there’s a romantic scene seemingly everywhere in the background — happy couples everywhere.

. . . Leah walked up to a double-wide window facing the park. The leaves were changing, making for a sea of rich oranges and yellows beside a crystal-clear lake. The view was postcard-perfect. And as a cherry on top, there was a couple rowing a boat in the lake, one carrying a parasol. And Leah could even make out a picnic basket. The energy of the place was contagious. Western world was cheesy and scary. Science Fiction was cheesy and a bit confusing. Rom-Com world was cheesy and delightful.

There’s sort of a happy ending montage at the end (or the narrative equivalent of one, anyway) that was just perfect. Once I realized what exactly Underwood was up to there, I couldn’t help grinning. I know it’s part of the series premise for him to play with, celebrate, comment on genre tropes, clichés, conventions and so on — but sometimes what he does seems to capture the essence of the particular genre in a way that just feels like he did it better than usual. This is one of those times.

If you’ve been reading this series already, you’re going to really enjoy this. If you haven’t started — go back to Episode 1 and start fresh, you won’t be sorry. Underwood has a good thing going here, and it’s just getting better. Fun, yet thoughtful; action-packed, but pretty restrained in use of force. A great balancing act that should inspire more to do this.

Disclaimer: I received this book from the author as part of his promotion of the Season One Kickstarter.

—–

4 1/2 Stars

Thursday, 1:17 PM by Michael Landweber

Thursday, 1:17 PMThursday, 1:17 PM

by Michael Landweber

Kindle Edition, 208 pg.
Coffeetown Press, 2016

Read: May 18 – 19, 2016

Towel Day is tomorrow, so it seems apropos to start with a couple of Douglas Adams lines that I’d imagine Duck quoted to himself, assuming he read the book: “This must be Thursday . . .I never could get the hang of Thursdays.” and “Time is an illusion. Lunchtime doubly so.” Now, if anyone could empathize with Arthur and Ford, it’s Duck.

(like I need an excuse to quote Adams, really, but I’ll take one)

And you never know, maybe he had read Adams, after all:

We’d read Fight Club in Mr. Lorenzo’s Anarchy in Modern American Fiction class . . . And Lord of the Rings in Ms. Tutwell’s Geography of Fictional Lands seminar, which somehow got me Social Studies credit. Damn, I went to a really questionable high school.

So, earlier today, I posted something from the publisher with the idea behind this one. Basically, Duck’s head is nowhere near where it should be as he walks the busy streets of D. C. and he steps out in front of a car that doesn’t hit him. Not because of lightning-fast reflexes of the driver, nor because of fantastic brakes, or because some hero pulled/pushed/tackled him out of the way. Nope, none of those — but because faster than you can say “Rod Serling,” time stopped.

Now our 17-year-old protagonist has to figure out: what happened (if he can); how to survive in this Frozen World (if he can); and most importantly — how can he get things moving again (if he can).

Simple enough premise, right? Yup. One that seems like you’ve probably read/seen it a few times (seems that way, but I can’t remember once) — but Landweber executes it like he’s the first. It feels fresh, new and innovative — while being an old stand-by, figure out how he pulled that off and I’ll probably end up talking about your book, too.

As we talked about a little while ago, there are very strict rules governing this reality and Duck figures them out pretty fast (at least fast enough to survive awhile).

Now seems like a good place to explain what people feel like in the frozen world. Skin feels like skin, hair like hair, lips like lips. It’s one of those things that is almost normal. When no one moves, you expect them to feel like molded plastic, like mannequins, limbs swiveling on set pivots without much range. A secondary possibility was that everyone would feel rubbery, like the well-preserved fetal pig [Duck’s friend] Grace dissected for me. Wrong on both counts.

The inert water hung down from the showerhead like strands of silk caressing his body. I touched one and it came away from its cohorts, wet and liquid on my fingertips.

And, yes, that sounds kind of creepy going around touching skin, hair, lips, some dude’s shower water — but don’t worry, that’s only because it is creepy. And Duck would be the first to admit that (probably while blushing). One reason I liked the paragraphs I quoted was because, yeah, molded plastic is exactly how I’d have figured it to feel.

Duck composing a “Guidebook” to how to live in this kind of reality ticks off a few boxes: lets us see his personality, lets him talk about his experimentation to discover the rules in a slightly more objective way than the rest of his narration, and lets him give the readers an info dump — several, actually — without it feeling like one. A very nice move there.

Landweber gives us a few details a little at a time about this reality, what Duck’s been going through in the days/weeks/months leading up to stepping in front of the car (like where that nickname comes from — a tale that’s both tragic and funny). As little as he’s been paying attention to the outside world, it might as well have stopped. So one of the things he does during this time is figure out what’s been going on with his friends — between family crisis and adolescent male hormones, he’s missed a lot. He just hopes that he can make up for this time.

For the most part, this book comes across as light entertainment — but there are (at least) two big dramatic stories at play here in addition to the fun and games. There’s death, the nature of love (and reality of lust, teenage style), growing up, friendship, hurting others . . . and Duck coming to grips with all of these, and coping with them isn’t done in a heavy-handed, or overly serious manner. On the whole, while you’re chuckling about something he’ll slide right into a consideration of one of the heavier themes. Over and over again, Landweber does this seamlessly so you barely notice it. No mean trick to pull off.

In addition to that, Duck deals with some pretty deep ethical questions (and doesn’t always come up with the right answer). His father, a philosopher, had posited that:

there is no good or evil without time. Empirically, he argued, man’s actions in themselves are not right or wrong. It is only the interaction of those deeds with the passage of time and the judgments of others that leads to morality. If you were to freeze time at the instant of the act, and never allow for there to be recriminations or regret or accusations or revenge, then the act itself becomes a meaningless one. No matter what that act is. Merely a moment detached from all other moments. A moment without consequence.

Duck’s got more than enough of these detached moments, moments without consequences, to deal with. And watching him deal with these ideas and try to be moral (frequently) is a really nice touch that I don’t think I expected from the premise.

It’s told in a light tone — and never gets spooky or too tense, but that doesn’t stop what Duck is dealing with from being serious — and dealt with seriously (much of the time). Landweber balances that pretty well most of the time — while keeping Duck as believable as possible in this situation. It is a compelling read, a fun read, and a moving read. Breezy enough to keep the YA crowd engaged, and thoughtful enough to make it worthwhile.

You really want to go get your hands on this one, readers, you’ll enjoy it.

Disclaimer: I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for an honest review.

—–

4 Stars

A Few Quick Questions With…Michael Landweber


For our third post on this Blog Tour stop, the author of Thursday, 1:17 PM, Michael Landweber was gracious enough to A some of my Q’s. As is typical, I kept it short and sweet, because this dude is busy and he doesn’t need to take up too much time with lil’ ol’ me. There are two questions here about the book we’re focusing on, and then we move on to more general questions. Hope you enjoy.

Michael LandweberMichael Landweber lives and writes in Washington, DC. His short stories have appeared in literary magazines such as Gargoyle, Fourteen Hills, Fugue, Barrelhouse and American Literary Review. He is an Associate Editor at Potomac Review and a contributor to Washington Independent Review of Books. Michael has a soft spot for movies about talking animals and does not believe he would survive the zombie apocalypse. His first novel We was published in 2013.

There are so many questions that I’d like to ask about some of the details of this book, but I’m going to have to settle for something about the process: did you have the rules for the Frozen World set up before beginning the book, or was that something you felt out along the way?
The rules were pretty simple and set from the beginning. Nothing moved unless it was affected by Duck. He would be the only force in the universe capable of changing anything. Otherwise, everything remained in exactly the state it was in when the world froze. Simple, right? Making up the rules was easy; following them was hard. There were many times while I writing when I would decide to do something and realize it didn’t fit in with this world. For example, in an early draft, I thought about shooting someone with a gun. But in order to fire, a gun required more than just Duck power. Similarly, I found myself realizing that he couldn’t cook anything; he could only eat food that was edible at the time the world froze. He couldn’t start a car, but he could ride a bike. So it was never a question of changing the rules. It was a constant struggle forcing myself to not cheat. Hopefully, I policed myself reasonably well. One of the reasons that I had Duck write a guidebook was because it was a great way to share everything about the frozen world I had spent so much time figuring out. That’s why you’ve got multiple pages about how to flush a toilet (and of course because I find details like that amusing).
How hard was it to get into the headspace of an almost 18 year-old (even one of above-average intelligence/thoughtfulness)? Once there — was it as much fun as it seemed?
It is always a challenge to get into a new character’s head. Or maybe the challenge is getting out of your own head. With a teenager, I did have the advantage that I was once 17 years old. However, it is true that when you become an adult, you forgot how desperate everything feels at that age. As adults, we learn to repress some emotions. It’s a survival skill. So, to write Duck, I tried to remember what it felt like when every emotion was on the surface and raw. I think that immediacy is what we lose as adults. Once I got in that mindset, it was fun to write Duck. Anytime I started to think that Duck shouldn’t be doing something, I usually put it in the book, figuring if I thought it was a bad idea then a teenager probably wouldn’t.
What’s the one (or two) book/movie/show in the last 5 years that made you say, “I wish I’d written that.”?
There are so many books and TV shows that I enjoy. I’d love to have written any of them. Of course, the flip side of that is that if I had written them, then I wouldn’t get to experience them the same way. I do surprise myself sometimes when I’m writing, but that’s not the same as the visceral thrill that you can get from watching or reading someone else’s work when the unexpected hits you with a perfectly timed twist. That said, there are two very different works that I wish I could have written. First, The Martian by Andy Weir. I would love to have written something that was so meticulously researched and incredibly readable at the same time. You get to the end of the book thoroughly entertained while somehow convincing yourself that you could now survive on Mars if you had to. Second would be Breaking Bad. The entire series. I admire how strictly it stuck to its vision from the beginning. The writers didn’t seem to care how popular it got. They weren’t trying to make anyone happy. It was unflinching to the very end.
Is there a genre that you particularly enjoy reading or watching, but could never write?
I could never write a good mystery. I don’t watch or read a lot of them, but I do enjoy them when they are well done. As a reader, I never know who committed the crime. Ever. I’ll always think that it is someone who was innocent. I admire the writers who are able to put that puzzle together and keep me guessing to the last piece. But as a writer, my mysteries would probably be more like a pre-schooler’s giant floor puzzle with only four pieces and no irregular edges.
I’ve often heard that writers, or artists in general, will forget hundreds of positive reviews but always remember the negative — what’s the worst thing that someone’s said about one of your books, and has it altered your approach to future books?
There was one reader review posted on a website about my first novel that stuck with me. He said that after reading it he had to bleach his brain and encouraged everyone to keep the book away from children. Actually, now that I think about it, maybe that was one of my good reviews. Seriously though, there are always going to be readers who don’t like certain things I write. So far, it hasn’t changed what I decide to write next.

Guest Post: 5 Books about Time by Michael Landweber


I’m a little obsessed about the concept of time in my writing. My first book, We, was about a man who travels back in time only to get stuck as a parasite inside the head of his seven-year-old self. In my latest novel, time stops completely, except for one 17-year-old kid. I suppose the recurring theme is that we have no control over time, even when it gets a little bit wonky. In honor of my obsession, I have created a list of five time-related books (or more precisely that have the word “time” in the title) that I’ve enjoyed over the years.

1) The Time Machine by H.G. Wells
The one that started it all. The original time travel story. Without it, there never would have been Timecop. Seriously though, it is a little hard to imagine that we’d have more than a century of time travel related books, movies, TV shows, etc. if Wells hadn’t had the idea that a time machine was the way to travel to different eras. Of course, unlike most modern time travel fiction, which focuses on the ways that traveling through time can change the present, purposefully or not, Wells had his protagonist travel into the far future where he encountered a parable about class and society. Still, the guy coined the phrase “time machine.” That’s pretty cool.

2) A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L’Engle
We don’t need no stinking time machine. In L’Engle’s classic children’s book series, the characters travel through space by “wrinkling time” by means of the tesseract. Most writers now call it a wormhole. No vehicle required. That freed a lot of writers to just zap characters from place to place without tricking out a Delorean. The book also is about how children can save the world without the help of the adults around them, particularly parents. Hello, Harry Potter!

3) A Tale for the Time Being by Ruth Ozeki
OK, this one has the least to do with manipulating time though it is a story about how past family narratives can help soothe present pain. A young woman in Tokyo considers suicide, but researching the stories of her feminist Buddhist nun great-grandmother and her disgraced WWII pilot great-uncle lead her to some surprising revelations about herself.

4) Time’s Arrow by Martin Amis
Amis uses a unique device to write about the horrors of the Holocaust. The narrator is a consciousness inside the head of a former Nazi who is now living a new life in America. But the story is told in reverse chronological order. Time in the book literally runs backward, so we start with the war criminal as an old man and travel unavoidably to his horrific past. It is an unusual and difficult book that allows the reader a new window into understanding the inconceivable cruelty that people are capable of.

5) Time Bandits
OK, I’m totally cheating here. Time Bandits is a movie. But it also happens to be my favorite movie. And it is about traveling through time. So there. One of Terry Gilliam’s earliest films, this one follows a young boy who falls in with a group of dwarfs who previously worked for the Supreme Being until they stole the Big Guy’s map of time holes and decided to use it to steal from the rich throughout history. That only begins to describe how gloriously messed up this movie is.

Thursday, 1:17 PM Book Tour

Thursday, 1:17 PMTime stopped. You didn’t. Now what?

Duck is 17. He will never be 18.

Tomorrow is his birthday. It will never be tomorrow.

Time stopped at 1:17 p.m. on a beautiful Thursday afternoon in Washington, DC. Duck is the only person moving in a world where all other living beings have been frozen into statues in an endless diorama. Duck was already in limbo, having lost his mother to cancer and his father to mental illness.

Now, faced with the unimaginable, he approaches his dilemma with the eye of an anthropologist and the heart of a teenager trying to do the right thing under the strangest of circumstances. Ultimately, he realizes that while he doesn’t understand the boundaries between friendship and love, that uncertain territory may be the key to restarting the world.

Trade Paperback – Available now
Publisher: Coffeetown Press
ISBN13: 9781603813570
208 pages

Coming up: We’ve got a Guest Post from Michael Landweber, a Q & A with him, too — and finally, my $.02 about the book. Come back and check these posts out (the links will work when the posts go up) — or just go get the book. Whatever.

There Will Always Be a Max by Michael R. Underwood

There Will Always Be a MaxThere Will Always Be a Max

by Michael R. Underwood
Series: Genrenauts, Episode 2.1

Kindle Edition, 26 pg.
Tor.com, 2016

Read: April 23, 2016


It’s not often that I do prep work before reading something — especially a 26 page story. But I wanted to fully appreciate this, so in the weeks leading up to the release (and one week after — hence the late review), I watched the Mad Max films — I’m not sure why, but they never appealed to me back in the 80s, and while I was curious about Fury Road, I hadn’t gotten around to it yet. While I’m very underwhelmed by the first two, the third was okay, and I really liked the latest. So finally, I felt ready to read this story.

So, so glad that I watched the movies first — I’d have been okay without it, but there were nuances, etc. that you pick up with the right background.

So we’re in a post-apocalyptic area, very much out of the Mad Max movies. Angstrom King is the only Genrenaut involved here — for reasons well explained — but Roman overshadows everything. I really appreciated this approach. I’ve been curious about the hints that Underwood dropped in The Absconded Ambassador about Roman and am glad we got more here — tho’ I’m still looking forward to getting the whole story eventually. It was good to see King doing more than commanding a mission, it was good for the character to get in the thick of things.

Underwood’s treatment of “The Max” idea/character is well done. The story, while brief, is full and exciting. Not much more to ask from 26 pages, really.

—–

4 Stars

The Absconded Ambassador (Audiobook) by Michael R. Underwood, Mary Robinette Kowal

The Absconded AmbassadorThe Absconded Ambassador

by Michael R. Underwood, Mary Robinette Kowal
(Narrator)
Series: Genrenauts, Episode 2

Unabridged Audiobook, 3 hours and 25 minutes
Macmillan Audio, 2016
Read: April 8, 2016
I really don’t have much more to say about the audiobook that I didn’t say about the original, but I wanted to get something up — so if this seems largely familiar, it is. But not entirely …

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

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

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

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

Leah’s excitement about being in “honest-to-goodness, Sally Ride is my homegirl zero-g” space was infectious (especially in this format). But even more fun was the amount of SF references Underwood fit into half of chapter 1 — truly astounding, and didn’t feel forced or overcrowded. He deserves a tip of the cap right there. But the fun’s not limited to the references and allusions — it’s in the alien cultural practices (and appearances), the various factions (human and otherwise), businesses, and just watching the whole Science Fiction World thing at work.

Mary Robinette Kowal did another bang-up job. I’m still not crazy about her voice for King, but I listened to this one using my earbuds instead of my car speakers and she’s much easier to hear with that voice that way, so it doesn’t bother me as much. I liked her alien characters a lot. Shirin and Leah are great (I think I like the audiobook take on Shirin better than the one in my head when reading, actually)

Good way to spend a little time — very entertaining all around.

—–

4 Stars

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