Tag: Science Fiction Page 31 of 35

by James Hutchings

Kindle Edition, 453 pg.
2016

You know what this book could’ve used? An introduction. Just something to ground the reader in the books intention, design, scope . . . something. It just dives in, you flip from the Table of Contents to the first entry.

The only way you know what the book is for is to have read the description from Goodreads/ebook seller:

If you want to spark new ideas for worlds, plots or characters, you want Ideas and Inspiration for Fantasy and Science Fiction Writers. Medicinal corpses, the jargons of thieves and carnies, Nazi UFOs, the colonization of space and green children from nowhere are only a few of the topics covered. This sourcebook is for all writers of fantasy or science fiction–whether novels, short stories, games, or any other form of storytelling.

The afterword touches on it a little, but who wants that at the end of a book?

Smoother writing, maybe a touch of personality to the writing would’ve been a plus, too.

It’s not something you can read cover-to-cover, it’s a resource book that you can consult, or flip through. I’m pretty sure I’ve read almost all of it over the course of a couple of weeks. It sparked an idea or two (not that I have time for them), but that’s about it.

I guess, this book set out to do what it intended, is thorough, easy to read, so . . . 3 stars? Next time you’re trying to prepare for NaNoWriMo or a Creative Writing course, give it a thumb-through.

Disclaimer: This book was provided to me by the author in exchange for an honest review.

—–

3 Stars

Reread Project: Life, The Universe and Everything by Douglas Adams

By HCNewton

On April 21, 2016

In A-B, Authors, Douglas Adams, Fiction, Reread Project, Science Fiction, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

Life, The Universe and Everything

by Douglas Adams
Series: The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy Trilogy, #3

Paperback, 232 pg.
Del Rey, 2005

Read: April 18, 2016

“One of the interesting things about space,” Arthur heard Slartibartfast saying . . . “is how dull it is?”

“Dull?” . . .

“Yes,” said Slartibartfast, “staggeringly dull. Bewilderingly so. You see, there’s so much of it and so little in it.”

Between General Busy-ness and having a hard time locating a reading copy of this book (I have one leather-bound edition of the “trilogy” pre-Mostly Harmless that I’m trying not to further abuse and a 1^st edition that I really don’t want to abuse at all), I didn’t get to reading this one on schedule. I was briefly tempted to write this up from memory — and I think I’d have hit 80% of the same things, but that seemed dis-honest, somehow.

Also, I really wanted to read the Belgiuming thing (if you’ll pardon the expression)

Thankfully, the Nampa Library came through. So, yeah, a little late and without further ado…

Sigh. This one just doesn’t work as well as its predecessors, does it? You can sense how hard Adams is trying to recapture the sensibility of the previous two novels — but it just comes across like someone trying (or locked in a hotel room by his editor until he’s done, which I believe is what happened here). For example, look at the concept of Bistromathic Drive, if that’s not a desperate attempt to remake the Infinite Improbability Drive, I’m a frood who doesn’t know where his towel is. And then the whole Krikkit saga? Don’t get me started with that.

Which is not to say that this doesn’t have some good moments — most of Ford’s dialogue is great. The whole thing with Agrajag is both a great call-back and a fun diversion. The best part of the book (both in concept and execution) has to be:

The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy has this to say on the subject of flying.

There is an art, it says, or rather, a knack to flying.

The knack lies in learning how to throw yourself at the ground and miss.

It goes on for quite a while after this — and I love every bit of it.

I had forgotten Marvin’s arc in this — I enjoyed that more than the rest (even if it wasn’t as good as his arc in Restaurant). It’s the best use of Trillian in the series, bar none. So, it wasn’t a total wash. Still, it felt forced, his heart didn’t seem to be in it. Which made us even, I guess, my heart sure wasn’t. Still, Adams on an off-day is better than most things.

—–

3 Stars

Waylaid by Kim Harrison

By HCNewton

On April 8, 2016

In F-J, Fiction, Kim Harrison, Science Fiction, The Hollows (Rachel Morgan), The Peri Reed Chronicles, Urban Fantasy

Waylaid

by Kim Harrison
Series: The Peri Reed Chronicles/The Hollows

Kindle Single, 87 pg.
Pocket Star, 2016

Read: April 5, 2016

In her Foreword, Harrison says, “Waylaid still reads like self-made fan fiction to me, ” thereby denying book bloggers and other amateur reviewers the opportunity to use that label. Which is a shame, because that’d be a great way to sum it up. Thankfully, it saves us all from making the same joke.

In a move as classic as Uncle Jesse visiting Los Angeles to say “howdy” to Enos^*, Harrison brings much beloved Rachel Morgan into the new, awesome, and in much need of publicity world of Peri Reed. Set sometime after the main events of The Witch with No Name (but not necessarily the last chapter), and before The Drafter, Waylaid will serve as a great introduction for fans of Morgan’s series.

A drunken mishap, inspired by a silly Urban Fantasy TV show (that I’d totally watch), results in Jack summoning Rachel in to Peri’s apartment. Jack and Peri assume she’s a counter-agent who’d been waiting for them to return to attack. Rachel has no clue who they are other than nitwits who summoned her away from a date and started attacking her. It doesn’t take her long to realize that her magic doesn’t work, and wherever she is, it’s a world she doesn’t recognize — Detroit still exists, people have technology she can only dream about, and the ley lines are deader than Arizona back home. The clock’s ticking and Peri and Rachel have to team up to get Rachel back home.

It’s silly, it’s fun — it’s pretty faithful to both series, it hopefully helps boost sales of The Drafter and its sequel.

I don’t really a lot to say without getting pretty heavy into spoilers, but I thought it was worth the pittance I spent on it, probably a little more. Fans of Harrison should give it a shot.

^* I just revealed my age there, I know. I also know there are older examples, but that’s the first in my memory.

—–

3 Stars

A Far Out Galaxy by Marjorie Thelen

By HCNewton

On April 7, 2016

In Fiction, Science Fiction

A Far Out Galaxy

by Marjorie Thelen
Series: Deovolante Space Opera, #1

PDF, 278 pg.
CreateSpace, 2014

Read: March 26, 2016

If you don’t mind getting Romance into your Science Fiction/Space Opera or SF into your Romance in a literary Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup, this might be your cup of tea. This is light-hearted, almost humorous — don’t think Scalzi, Adams, Holt, Cline or Rob Reid. Think Evanovich in Space. It’s an odd mix of Space Opera, Romance and humor — mostly pulled off well. In the end, it wasn’t my thing, but it was fairly well executed.

Will and Vita are planetary royalty, who’ve been ordered to go on a mission together by a higher governing power. Vita’s a queen on a technologically-oriented planet, and like many before her, she’s a clone. It’s about time for her to clone herself to get her successor trained and ready in time. But there’s a problem, the cloning device is on the blink and no one can repair it. So, they’re going to have to take care of the succession the old-fashioned way. Enter Will — a Captain Kirk type. Handsome, charming, a gal in every space port, and a heckuva warrior. If anyone can get the might-as-well-be-asexual Vita pregnant, it’s him. There’s a Dave and Maddy vibe going throughout the early chapters, but you know she’s going to succumb to his charms (if only because she has to — at least at first). This would be the Romance bit.

Meanwhile, they’re being pursued by Will’s half-brother and other assorted nefarious types to interfere with their mission to check in on their colony, Earth, as well as to get up to other mischief. The colony is in pretty rough shape, what with the citizens acting the way we do — but they’ve got trick or two up their sleeve to get us back on track (which may or may not be entirely successful). This would be the Science Fiction/Space Opera bit.

Now, given everything that they’re able to do later in the book I’m not sure that I buy the whole “we can’t repair the cloning device” thing — I bet later on that we find out that The Powers That Be orchestrated the sabotage. But…that’s neither here nor there.

Thelen gets into some pretty impressive world-building (even if the science is . . . not that science-y), complete with multiple governing bodies and hierarchies, etc. Although, while I tracked with all the assorted layers of orders and bloodlines and whatnot that they talked about involving those on the mission (and related to it), I found it hard to understand — much less care — about the problems back home in their home galaxy. Hopefully, in future installments Thelen gets the reader to care — or to not worry about it and focus on the characters we do know.

Some of the characters here are pretty well-developed and engaging — though a few were little more than names and ranks, but that worked out okay given the story. The love story didn’t work for me — at least not in the early stages. I had no problem with it i the last half, though, and that’s when the book started working its charm on me (those two are pretty likely linked). The story was okay — but it felt like a lot of it was just to set up the rest of the series, not to tell a story in this book — but there was enough completed here to feel okay about it.

I think this is the kind of thing a lot of people would enjoy — on the whole, sadly, I’m not really one of them — but it’s fairly well written. I did end up liking it eventually — not a whole lot, but enough that I could see the merits and see why others would probably get into the series. I’m glad I pushed through my early disinterest to get to some pretty good stuff in the latter half. If Evanovich in Space sounds like your cup of tea, give this series a look.

Disclaimer: I was graciously provided a copy of this book by the author in exchange for my thoughts, even if it took me 3 months longer than I’d hoped to get to them.

—–

3 Stars

Calamity by Brandon Sanderson

By HCNewton

On April 5, 2016

In Fiction, YA/MG/Children's Books

Calamity

by Brandon Sanderson
Series: The Reckoners, #3

Hardcover, 417 pg.
Delacorte Press, 2016

Read: March 30 – April 2, 2016

There was more connectivity between city-states in the Fractured States than I’d once assumed. Perhaps the Epics could have survived without any kind of infrastructure, but they tended to want subjects to rule. What good was it to be an all-powerful force of destruction and fury if you didn’t have peasants to murder now and then? Unfortunately peasants had to eat, or they’d go and die before you got a chance to murder them.

That meant building up some kind of structure in your city, finding some kind of product you could trade. Cities that could produce a surplus of food could trade for power cells, weapons or luxuries. I found that satisfying. When they’d first appeared, the Epics had wantonly destroyed anything and everything, ruining the national infrastructure. Now they were forced to bring it all back, becoming administrators.

Life was so unfair. You couldn’t both destroy everything around you and live like a king.

I really enjoyed Steelheart, the first novel in this trilogy — and Firefight was a lot of fun, if not as good — it wasn’t anything serious, weighty, or bogged-down with teenage drama. Just a fun story about super-powered individuals ruling over a post-apocalyptic dystopia and the non-super-powered rebels trying to take them down. So, how’d Brandon Sanderson wrap things up? In a very mixed bag — an ending that was honest, consistent, and fitting for the series, but one I really didn’t care for.

Which is going to take some explanation.

David’s voice is as friendly, upbeat, and nerdy in the way that charmed me in the beginning. Even weighted down with added burdens and losses, he’s hung onto his core personality. His metaphors are as painful as ever — his ability to get his teammates to go along with the biggest of hare-brained schemes is intact and still astounding.

I wanted answers. They were probably here somewhere. Maybe I’d find them behind that group of robotic war drones that were extending their gun arms from behind the freezers in front of me.

Oh.

But he isn’t the same kid we met on the streets of Newcago — he’s lost his drive for revenge, it’s evolved into something else (and/or been revealed or better understood to be something else). He’s not out for blood, not out for simply overthrowing the Epics. He still wants to stop them, to restore rule to non-Epics and free them from the tyranny they’re under. But it’s because of wrong and right, for deeper reasons, purer motives.

He’s not the only one who’s changed and grown — Megan, the love of his life and former foe, has greater understanding of herself and her powers, she’s gaining more and more control of both. Part of it is self-acceptance, part of it is David’s faith in her. Either way, she’s a more entertaining character — and a less threatening force (at least as far as The Reckoners are concerned).

Thanks to their travel and experience, David and the others have a better understanding of how the world works (see the above quotation for a hint) — and some of the Epics have had to make adjustments, if for no other reason to keep their subjects alive and working. From a surprising source, we learn how the Reckoners tech works — as do they — and it’s pretty odd (and interesting). Not only that — the source of Calamity, the source of the Epics’ powers is revealed. You really can’t ask for more than that.

Well, actually you can — one of the other things that comes out of the growth and development of David (and the rest) over the series, and especially over this book, are some underlying themes that come out. They’ve been there since the beginning if you knew how to look, but here, Sanderson makes them explicit. I really appreciated them as they surfaced — I’m not sure that a lot of the YA crowd that this is targeted for would as much as I did, but many would. The last scene is pretty heartwarming, really — something I wouldn’t have expected at pretty much any point in the series (and has nothing to do with romance, for the record).

So why am I lukewarm about this? While the execution was consistent, the tone was right on-pitch and Sanderson didn’t cheat anywhere along the way to the series conclusion, I just didn’t like it. I didn’t like the explanation given for the source of the powers. I didn’t like the way the last half of the book played out (mostly everything after the last battle with the Prof, really — so less than half, but the groundwork was laid at about the 50% mark). Sanderson told the story he wanted to, in a way that made sense to the rest of the series, and he never copped out or went for high drama over being true to his story. So I can’t judge it too harshly. I just didn’t care for the way it played out. Which pretty much just means that Sanderson wrote the ending he wanted and not the one I wanted. Sure, I think it’s tacky, but you can add that to the very long list of things that he didn’t ask me.

I wasn’t wowed, wasn’t thrilled with things in the end. But I really can’t complain about any of it. Fans of — or at least readers of — the series should check out the conclusion, just to get the closure it brings. Hopefully, you’ll get more out of it than I did.

—–

3 Stars

The Shootout Solution (Audiobook) by Michael R. Underwood, Mary Robinette Kowal

By HCNewton

On March 30, 2016

In Fiction, Genrenauts, Michael R. Underwood, Science Fiction

The Shootout Solution

by Michael R. Underwood, Mary Robinette Kowal
(Narrator)
Series: Genrenauts, Episode 1

Unabridged Audiobook, 3 hours and 25 minutes
Macmillan Audio, 2015
Read: March 23, 2016

I thoroughly enjoyed the story about Leah Tang’s introduction to the wonderful and crazy world of the Genrenauts — and it’s sequel — when I read it last November. When heading out for a road trip, I figured it’d be a good distraction from the road for my wife, son and I. It’s a fun story, filled with characters you want to root for on an adventure that we all would like to take. I mean seriously, a rocketship ride to the Old West? Sign me up.

For me, this time it was a little easier to grasp the explanations given for what the team is up to — the new reality (better, realities) that Leah finds herself in this time out. Partially because I already knew it, partially because I find that kind of thing easier to digest when I hear it (so why don’t I listen to more audiobooks?)

On the whole, I was really impressed with Kowal’s narration. My wife and I weren’t crazy about her characterization of King — the voice was hard to understand, I really didn’t think it matched the description Underwood gave. I had virtually no other complaints — and in fact, really enjoyed her work. It was a little hard for me to deal with the fact that it took nearly three-and-a-half hours to get through, I’m used to spending a lot less time with Underwood’s works (most of them, anyway). But I did appreciate being forced to soak in the world, think about things a bit more than I would have on my own.

I was hoping we’d get through the second installment as well, but we weren’t able to squeeze that in. I’m curious what Kowall did with some of the characters we meet there, and hope I can figure out a time to get to it soon.

If you liked the novella — or if you think you’d like the book, but haven’t gotten around to grabbing it, the audiobook is well worth the small investment of time and money.

—–

4 Stars

Morning Star by Pierce Brown

By HCNewton

On March 4, 2016

In Fiction, Pierce Brown, Red Rising, Science Fiction

Morning Star

by Pierce Brown
Series: Red Rising, #3

Hardcover, 518 pg.
Del Rey, 2016

Read: February 24 – March 3, 2016

“There is no pain. Only joy,” they chant, deep in the embrace of the god’s bread. Sefi begins the war bellow. Her voice higher than Ragnar’s. Her two wing-sisters join her. Then their wing-sisters, until dozens fill the com with their song, giving me a sense of grandeur as my mind tells my body to flee. This is why the Obsidians chant. Not to sow terror. But to feel brave, to feel kinship, instead of isolation and fear.

Sweat drips down my spine.

Fear is not real.

Holiday deactivates her safety.

“Njar la tagag . . . ”

My razor goes rigid.

PulseWeapon shudders and whines, priming.

Body trembles. Mouth full of ashes. Wear the mask. Hide the man. Feel nothing. See everything. Move and kill. Move and kill. I am not a man. They are not men.

The chanting swells. . . “Syn tir rjyka!”

Fear is not real.

If you’re watching, Eo, it’s time to close your eyes.

The Reaper has come. And he’s brought hell with him.

And when The Reaper, Darrow of Lykos, says he’s brought hell with him, you’d best believe it.

With books that come later in a series — especially with the last volume — there are huge expectations and hopes. Sometimes the book’s a disappointment; sometimes it’s as good as you hoped — every now and then, it’s better than you’d hoped. And then there are the times you get something like Morning Star. I want to avoid hyperbole, and I don’t want to over-sell, so let me just say that Pierce Brown delivered. I’m not sure how to talk about this book — one of my most anticipated reads of 2016 — other than to say it did not disappoint in the slightest, and if it doesn’t find its way to my favorite reads of 2016, I’d be flummoxed (although that would mean we have an unbelievably good 9 months ahead).

We pick up about a year after Golden Son — well, that’s not true. We start off with one of those aggravating teases for events later in the book before starting the actual story. If I’m going to complain about it in Freedom’s Child a couple of weeks ago, I’d better complain about it here. Thankfully, it’s a brief tease and you can forget it quickly because Chapter 1 doesn’t wait too long to get to the brutality that this series is so capable of bringing, making you forget about trivial things like bad ways to start a novel. I’m not going to get into the plot — if you’re curious, start with Red Rising and catch up. If you’ve read one or two of these books, I just want to assure you that you should grab this.

Red Rising was like the love child of Ender’s Game and The Hunger Games hopped up on amphetamines, steroids and too much Red Bull. Golden Sun was a roller coaster of stomach-lurching twists and turns and shattered hopes. Morning Star has elements of both, but it also reads like a series of climatic scenes from epic novels and movies stacked on top of one another — Jackson’s The Lord of The Rings + Gladiator + The Patriot + a few more things like that on the day that Michael settles all family business. Somehow, Brown keeps the tension mounting from chapter to chapter, in a way that every battle, every encounter feels like it could be the novel’s climax. Yet when the actual climax happens you’re not prepared.

Having been trained by Golden Son, I spent a lot of time expecting a betrayal, waiting for the sucker punch I knew was coming. But it wasn’t that kind of book^* — it was a book of hard choices — even compromises (the good kind) — of people doing the right thing, to the best of their understanding. Not always the best for themselves, but the best for their principles, their loved ones, their people. Family — biological family, extended family, found family — is a major theme throughout. It shouldn’t be surprising considering that this all started with a husband and wife, but when you think of The Red Rising Trilogy, family isn’t one of the first words that come to mind. Well, after you read this, it might be.

Lieutenant Commander Worf, son of Mogh, would’ve approved of so much of the action here (on both sides). The pages dripped with honor and nobility (in both classic and more modern understandings of the concepts). Despite it being a mainstay in fiction, I have a hard time buying the concept of noble deaths, but man . . . there’s one roughly midway through the that got me in just the right way. The dying was a little more protracted than Brown’s typical practice, giving him time to do more with it narratively. It was such a good piece of writing (even if all the individual elements in the scene were cliché), it’s one of the most effective parts of the series. Once it starts, you know what’s happening, you know how the effects of it will play out, but it still works. It’s like the da da da dummm at the beginning of the 5th — everyone knows it, but if an orchestra does it right? It’s powerful stuff.

Like a good general — Brown’s always a few steps ahead of the reader, well, me. As before, he surprised me all the time. There were a couple of times that I came close to seeing his play — technically — but his actual move was so much better than I’d guessed, I might as well have been moving checkers around his chess board.

Before I came across the section I quoted in my opening, I was going to use:

Now I remember hate.

I’m glad I didn’t. Morning Star isn’t about that. After Golden Son (or after Eo’s death), that’s what you expect: Darrow going all John Wick/Beatrix Kiddo/Frank Castle, but that’s not what the book is. Darrow is much more than a vengeance-machine. He’s more than rage, more than hatred — he’s full of both, no mistake. But that’s not all that’s driving him.

And because there’s more to him, the book — the series — is elevated to something beyond a great SF/Action romp. When Darrow, his friends and/or his army say something, do something to send a message, more often than not, it’s inspiring, at the very least, stirring. In the end, Darrow’s mission isn’t about destroying the Golds (although there is plenty of destruction), it’s something more.

The question is, can he fulfill this mission? What would that look like? It is so close to the final page when you get the actual answers to those (and all the other) questions you have.

Oh yeah, and Brown made me laugh out loud once. There were heartwarming moments, moments of joy, moments of awe. In the midst of the chaos, the violence, the destruction, and all the blood? Rays of humanity everywhere.

Simply put, this is the perfect conclusion for this fantastic series. I can’t think of a more fitting way for Brown to have concluded things. If you liked Red Rising and Golden Son, you’ll love this.

—
^* Which isn’t to say that there aren’t gut punches.

—–

Opening Lines – Morning Star

By HCNewton

On February 25, 2016

In Authors, Blog Series, Currently Reading, Fiction, News/Misc., Opening Lines, Pierce Brown, Quotations, Red Rising, Science Fiction

We all know we’re not supposed to judge a book by its cover (yet, publishing companies spend big bucks on cover design/art). But, the opening sentence(s)/paragraph(s) are fair game. So, when I stumble on a good opening (or remember one and pull it off the shelves), I’ll throw it up here. Dare you not to read the rest of the book.

Deep in darkness, far from warmth and sun and moons, I lie, quiet as the stone that surrounds me, imprisoning my hunched body in a dreadful womb. I cannot stand. Cannot stretch. I can only curl in a ball, a withered fossil of the man that was. Hands cuffed behind my back. Naked on cold rock.

All alone with the dark.

It seems months, years, millennia since my knees have unbent, since my spine has straightened from its crooked pose. The ache is madness. My joints fuse like rusted iron. How much time has passed since I saw my Golden friends bleeding out into the grass? Since I felt gentle Roque kiss my cheek as he broke my heart?

Time is no river.

Not here.

In this tomb, time is the stone. It is the darkness, permanent and unyielding, its only measure the twin pendulums of life — breath and the beating of my heart.

In. Buh . . . bump. Buh . . . bump.

Out. Buh . . . bump. Buh . . . bump.

In. Buh . . . bump. Buh . . . bump.

And forever it repeats.

from Morning Star by Pierce Brown

Steal the Sky by Megan E. O’Keefe

By HCNewton

On February 25, 2016

In Fiction

Steal the Sky

by Megan E. O’Keefe
Series: The Scorched Continent, #1

Mass Market Paperback, 439 pg.
Angry Robot, 2016

Read: February 20 – 23, 2016
It’s both overly-simplistic and inaccurate to describe Steal the Sky as The Gentlemen Bastards in the Firefly ‘Verse. But it’s not completely wrong.

I’m not sure I can defend that, but I tell you this: read the book and you’ll probably agree. I’m going to try to reference those other works as little as I can, because the book is more than just a combination of their DNA, but I’m going to have to a couple of times. There’s also a smattering of Steampunk-ish elements, some Epic Fantasy-like things, and a dash of The Stainless Steel Rat. You know how Data downplayed his violin playing as a combination of all those various artists, and Picard and Crusher (I think it was her, anyway) telling him that he’s the one who took all those various characteristics and made it his own? That’s what O’Keefe did here, and I hate to minimize what she did by just referencing these other works — but in the interest of brevity, you pretty much have to. I, frankly can’t wait to see in future books what other ingredients she puts in her secret sauce.

But before then, we have to step onto the Scorch, an unforgiving continent, to be sure.

What is it with SF novels and mining? Everywhere I turn lately, there are people slaving away (literally) in mines — Pierce Brown’s Darrow (and the rest of the Reds); almost everyone on Josi Russel’s Minea; and countless people in Aransa and the rest of the Scorched Continent. Really, it wouldn’t surprise me to see Raylan Givens and Boyd Crowder’s descendants digging for spaceship fuel next year on FX. One reason that you see them everywhere is that it’s really effective — you read “miner” and you see poor workers, toiling in unsafe conditions, who are very likely being taken advantage of. If that’s not grounds for compelling drama, well — did you not get where Katniss Everdeen was from?

Like on Minea, there’s a special kind of person who can find the precious resource, called Sel. Sel-sensitives — no matter what their social class, family, or other abilities — go work in the mines (well, a very few become pilots). They can find Sel, they can manipulate Sel, they are the key to getting it out of the planet and into their ships (as an aside, Sel seems to be somewhat renewable, which is nice). The last things the government wants is turmoil — and the thing they want most are Sel-sensitives who can do more than get Sel out of the ground.

The Scorched Continent looks and acts like something from the Old West (at least as we know it from movies, TV, etc.) small communities, mostly poor, with some nobility with a lot of on the “have” side of the equation. Which is where Detan Honding comes in — he’s the black sheep of the oldest of the noble houses, a small-time con man staying one step above starvation and another step ahead of the law (I’m about to break into “Street Rat” from Aladdin, so I’m going to stop). Along for the ride is his long-suffering ship’s pilot, friend, and resident voice of reason (probably the only one who keeps him from getting carried away), Tibs.

The two find themselves in Aransa, a larger city with a big mine. Detan and Tibs are known in some quarters of the city, most notably by the Captain of the Watch, Ripke Leshe, who wants them out of town. But has a unique business proposal first . . .

This is getting too long — let’s leave things there, with some people left for you to meet. And you want to, trust me. Including the villains — both petty and Big Bads (especially the Bigger Bads that you don’t think of that way at first).

O’Keefe has created a great world, with a robust culture, a specialized vocabulary, its own technology, politics and whatnot. There’s a whole invaders taking exploiting indigenous/traditional cultures thing that’s also going on — but O’Keefe doesn’t spend too much time on it, just gives us a quick glance of that — but it looks like future books will explore this more. So I’ll just leave it there, but I’m pretty curious about the whole thing. Speaking of local customs — anytime people talk about Walking the Black — put aside anything you may be snacking on.

Now, since I (and many others) have invoked The Gentlemen Bastards and Firefly, I should say that both of those have a sense of fun — a sense of play — that’s really not that present in Steal the Sky. You get the impression that maybe (probably) whatever happened before this did, though. This book is mostly like the part of Lynch’s work where play time is over and Locke is going for vengeance, not just a payday. Which is not to say that isn’t fun — there are plenty of laughs, jokes, witty rejoinders and whatnot — I’d love to quote some, but the amount of context it’d take for the you to get the joke would kill this. This novel doesn’t have the joie de vivre that the other works do, but it could.

One more Firefly reference and I’m done — towards the end, when things look pretty dire for some of our characters — you get the impression that O’Keefe spent a lot of time wondering just what happened to River while at The Academy, and a few people here would probably find themselves capable of swapping notes with Ms. Tam.

There’s excitement, piracy, politics, thievery, general mischief, subterfuge, revenge, friendship, loyalty in this story — told in a great world, with hints of more worlds to come (as well as more to learn about this one). People are going to be talking about this one for a while, I think. I am, at least.

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4 Stars

Reposting: The Absconded Ambassador by Michael R. Underwood

By HCNewton

On February 23, 2016

In Authors, Fiction, Genrenauts, Michael R. Underwood, Science Fiction

It’s Publication Day for The Absconded Ambassador, so I thought I’d better throw this up again. Go get your hands on it.
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The Absconded Ambassador

by Michael R. Underwood
Series: Genrenauts, Episode 2ARC, 159 pg.
Tor.com, 2016
Read: December 31, 2015

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.

Now this was a way to close out 2015 — 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. 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. I made it all the way to page 42 without having to Google one of them (I think there was only one other time I had to grab my smart phone). 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.

One thing that’s been niggling at the back of my mind with these Episodes is what’s to keep Leah from being Ree Reyes 2.0? Underwood seems to be going with keeping Leah from the more Parker/Eliot Spencer-type roles and moving her into the Sophie Devereau/Alec Hardison-type roles. She and Shirin scramble all over the station trying to keep treaty negotiations moving forward. They’re thinking on their feet, using their wits, charm and SF knowledge to keep things under control — Leah’s on-the-job training under Shirin helps the readers acclimate to this world, too. The action-hero needs are served by the rest of the team, Roman and King — whose banter while throwing punches, engaging in dogfights, and so on, kept the fun going (honestly, maybe was a little more fun than the rest).

In Episode 1, I wondered if the pilot nature of the novella kept it from being everything I wanted it to be. The Absconded Ambassador built on that ground work and gave us a solid, fully-formed adventure — everything I hoped it would be. And that’s just in the main story, there’s all this other stuff going on: not only do we have a sense of impending doom — or at least very big crisis — coming to the Multi-Genre-Verse. But now we’ve got some sort of secret within the team (not one that’s going to cause much trouble, I don’t think — but you never know), and (according to the preview for Episode 3) maybe some intra-team conflict. Underwood just nailed here, and Genrenauts is about half-a-novella away from being his most consistently entertaining work.

I won a copy of this in a drawing on the author’s website — which means I got to read it two months early — and I got a very nice autograph on the title page. The downside is, I have to wait longer than I’d have had to wait otherwise between Episodes 2 and 3. I still came out ahead, but not by much.

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4 Stars