Thanks to MTV's (who would've thought?) The Chronicles of Shannara, I'm rereading Terry Brooks' Sword of Shannara and Elfstones of Shannara. I first read both of these somewhere between 10 and 14 years old (I know I read Lord of the Rings in Hawaii when I was 12, but I can't remember if these came before or after that). Barely remembered Sword, so I'm thinking I read it once and Elfstones more than once.
Sword is... well, it reads like a first book. Lots of unnecessary words. A more than passing resemblance to Lord of the Rings (Elder Brother was less kind in his opinion on that). Omniscient POV that irks. In short, a good story made harder by less than stellar execution. If I can finish this second read, I won't pick it up again.
Elfstones was smoother, as happens when a writer continues to hone his skills. I hadn't realized how much Star of Justice pays homage to Amberle Elessedil, who was my favorite character.
I'm also rereading Mansfield Park by Jane Austin. I say "rereading" only because I find evidence in my copy that I read it in 2008. I have literally no memory of anything from the book. If it weren't my handwriting in the margins, I would swear I'd never even seen it before. Since I'm halfway through and unable to find a single character I like, I'm not sure I'll finish it, either.
I remember loving the Arrows of the Queen triology by Mercedes Lackey when I was young (although her Companions were a total rip-off of Anne McCaffrey's dragons). I reread it as an adult and threw the books away because the writing was so poor. I'll never read anything of hers again.
I wish I was able to pick up a book and just read it. The books I finish anymore are rare. Too much effort for too little reward. I find myself wishing the author would just leave these people alone and let them live out their little lives in peace and quiet. Hardly the stuff of legends.
Push button. Receive bacon.
Showing posts with label Book Review. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Book Review. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 29, 2016
Monday, March 7, 2016
The Wind in the Willows
I've heard of this story, but never read it. I believe Disneyland has a Mr. Toad's Wild Ride, but my motion sickness made that impossible.
I bought a very used book at a charity drive, and, after reading one too many Lovecraft horrors (the nightmares started), picked it up for a stroll on the brighter side. I'm halfway through, because life got busy as it usually does, but far enough to say a few things.
One, charming prose. Some truly lovely sentences in there that beautifully capture the image or moment.
Two, welcome innocence coupled with strong moral character. Friendship, hospitality, generosity, hard work, and hard winter rest - a concept I heartily endorse - are illustrated in each story. Even flighty Toad has a good heart.
Three, while I generally don't care for short stories, these are just the right size for reading before bed. Since I haven't slept through the night in about two weeks, I don't have a lot of eye stamina for long bouts of reading.
The hardest part of reading these stories comes from me being too adult. Rat has a boat, a brace of pistols and a cudgel. Mole has Italian sculptures in his burrow. Badger eats ham and bacon, and wears slippers. However, they are animals, and the stories don't dispute their size. Would a rat-sized pistol even fire? Where does Badger get his ham? How do they earn their money? Children don't worry about this sort of thing (except me. This is exactly the kind of thing I worried about as a child). I keep derailing as I try to categorize the logic of the world. Alice in Wonderland is the closest I can come.
The illustrations don't help. Toad's carriage is people-sized, pulled by a horse, and contains a bird in a cage they later carry away. What bird is small enough to be carried in a cage by a toad? Toad is tried in a human court of law, and held in a human prison, if the pictures are to be counted as accurate, which they probably aren't. The author does make some attempts at reconciling the inconsistencies, since they have to coax the horse to pull the carriage when the horse would rather be part of the party, and Badger does explain that humans built what eventually became his burrows. Still, I've stumbled more than once as my brain balks at pure fancy.
I wonder if Mom never read me this book because these are the questions I would have asked as a child, and didn't want to deal with it at bedtime. Can't blame her, if that's the case.
Applaud the jellyfish.
I bought a very used book at a charity drive, and, after reading one too many Lovecraft horrors (the nightmares started), picked it up for a stroll on the brighter side. I'm halfway through, because life got busy as it usually does, but far enough to say a few things.
One, charming prose. Some truly lovely sentences in there that beautifully capture the image or moment.
Two, welcome innocence coupled with strong moral character. Friendship, hospitality, generosity, hard work, and hard winter rest - a concept I heartily endorse - are illustrated in each story. Even flighty Toad has a good heart.
Three, while I generally don't care for short stories, these are just the right size for reading before bed. Since I haven't slept through the night in about two weeks, I don't have a lot of eye stamina for long bouts of reading.
The hardest part of reading these stories comes from me being too adult. Rat has a boat, a brace of pistols and a cudgel. Mole has Italian sculptures in his burrow. Badger eats ham and bacon, and wears slippers. However, they are animals, and the stories don't dispute their size. Would a rat-sized pistol even fire? Where does Badger get his ham? How do they earn their money? Children don't worry about this sort of thing (except me. This is exactly the kind of thing I worried about as a child). I keep derailing as I try to categorize the logic of the world. Alice in Wonderland is the closest I can come.
The illustrations don't help. Toad's carriage is people-sized, pulled by a horse, and contains a bird in a cage they later carry away. What bird is small enough to be carried in a cage by a toad? Toad is tried in a human court of law, and held in a human prison, if the pictures are to be counted as accurate, which they probably aren't. The author does make some attempts at reconciling the inconsistencies, since they have to coax the horse to pull the carriage when the horse would rather be part of the party, and Badger does explain that humans built what eventually became his burrows. Still, I've stumbled more than once as my brain balks at pure fancy.
I wonder if Mom never read me this book because these are the questions I would have asked as a child, and didn't want to deal with it at bedtime. Can't blame her, if that's the case.
Applaud the jellyfish.
Monday, March 28, 2011
The Duke's Handmaid by Caprice Hokstad
I interviewed Caprice the farmer on Virtual Buttercups. Now read what I think of her first book over at
The New Authors' Fellowship.
The New Authors' Fellowship.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
The Gathering Storm by Robert Jordan and Brandon Sanderson
The book began like any other Wheel of Time book. A prologue with characters I may or may not know - a quick update on who is where before the story begins in earnest.
No clue is given at these times of which characters will be visible through the course of the book. With so many, the choices are endless, much like a soap opera.
Ah, but there's Rand, my shepherd boy. A boy no longer, but a man. A king, hunted and haunted and struggling to unify the known world before Tarmon Gaidon, The Last Battle.
What is this? It is Rand. All of him (except the hand he lost in the last book). I know him.
And there's Min, and Nynaeve, and Aveindha, and Cadsuane. Perrin and Faile. Mat and Talmanes and Tuon and ugly little Olver. Siuan and Gareth Bryne and Gawyn. They're all here! They survived!
Brandon Sanderson has done it. He's breathed life into people I feared dead with their creator. But, no, the young upstart has jumped into the gap with the determination of a Malkieri, the stubborness of a Stone Dog Aiel, and the creativity of an Aes Sedai working around the Three Oaths.
Yes, I saw the occasional stumble. Too many "agains" in the same sentence. An abundance of "nows" on occasion. The use of the word "watery" three times to describe blue eyes. Jordan wouldn't have done that.
But out of 760 pages, that's it? That's my gripe? Pretty small.
There was a chapter with Gawyn that didn't quite feel right, too emphatic, perhaps, but Gawyn isn't quite as established as many of the others, so Sanderson may have him and mold him.
When the Seanchan attacked Tar Valon, I couldn't see for the tears. Very annoying, by the way. How can you find out if everyone is okay when you can't see to read?
When Semirhage confronted Rand -again- I held my breath. Who would win?
When Rand attacked his own... Well, perhaps that little surprise is best held back. I will say, I also cursed Cadsuane for her meddling.
Towers of Midnight, the second to the last book is out. I can only hope we will discover how a pregnant Queen Elayne is coping, whether Moiraine survived her fall into the ter'angreal oh-so-many books ago, what new tricks the Aelfinn and Eelfinn have up their sleeves and the fate of al'Lan Mandragoran.
Of course, I will be searching for news of Rand, my tortured Dragon Reborn.
Thanks to Brandon Sanderson, I will know what happens to my boy. For his stunning success in taking up the challenge, I give The Gathering Storm my elusive 5 buttercups. I have never been so pleased to be so upset.
The Light protect you, Mr. Sanderson. You have ji to us, but we have toh to you.
No clue is given at these times of which characters will be visible through the course of the book. With so many, the choices are endless, much like a soap opera.
Ah, but there's Rand, my shepherd boy. A boy no longer, but a man. A king, hunted and haunted and struggling to unify the known world before Tarmon Gaidon, The Last Battle.
What is this? It is Rand. All of him (except the hand he lost in the last book). I know him.
And there's Min, and Nynaeve, and Aveindha, and Cadsuane. Perrin and Faile. Mat and Talmanes and Tuon and ugly little Olver. Siuan and Gareth Bryne and Gawyn. They're all here! They survived!
Brandon Sanderson has done it. He's breathed life into people I feared dead with their creator. But, no, the young upstart has jumped into the gap with the determination of a Malkieri, the stubborness of a Stone Dog Aiel, and the creativity of an Aes Sedai working around the Three Oaths.
Yes, I saw the occasional stumble. Too many "agains" in the same sentence. An abundance of "nows" on occasion. The use of the word "watery" three times to describe blue eyes. Jordan wouldn't have done that.
But out of 760 pages, that's it? That's my gripe? Pretty small.
There was a chapter with Gawyn that didn't quite feel right, too emphatic, perhaps, but Gawyn isn't quite as established as many of the others, so Sanderson may have him and mold him.
When the Seanchan attacked Tar Valon, I couldn't see for the tears. Very annoying, by the way. How can you find out if everyone is okay when you can't see to read?
When Semirhage confronted Rand -again- I held my breath. Who would win?
When Rand attacked his own... Well, perhaps that little surprise is best held back. I will say, I also cursed Cadsuane for her meddling.
Towers of Midnight, the second to the last book is out. I can only hope we will discover how a pregnant Queen Elayne is coping, whether Moiraine survived her fall into the ter'angreal oh-so-many books ago, what new tricks the Aelfinn and Eelfinn have up their sleeves and the fate of al'Lan Mandragoran.
Of course, I will be searching for news of Rand, my tortured Dragon Reborn.
Thanks to Brandon Sanderson, I will know what happens to my boy. For his stunning success in taking up the challenge, I give The Gathering Storm my elusive 5 buttercups. I have never been so pleased to be so upset.
The Light protect you, Mr. Sanderson. You have ji to us, but we have toh to you.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott
After eavesdropping on a "comment string" between Caprice Hokstead and...either Holly Heisley or Keiki Hendrix (I'm not making those names up) on FB, I bought the book Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott. I'd never heard of her. She's a writer, possibly a famous one, and both of those ladies (also writers) had read the book.
I'm about halfway done. Yes, I continue to read Thou Shall Prosper, but Anne's book fits in my purse and has traveled with me these past two weekends. Another reason for writing a smaller book.
Anne and I have about as much in common as Gene Getz and I do. That is to say, nothing. For which, I am grateful.
I have not yet experienced her three-year struggle to produce a novel. Neither of my parents were writers. I do not write about things I remember from my past (I would only write Star Trek or Buck Rogers episodes, with some modifications) or things I see when I turn my head. I am not a voracious reader, although I'm trying to get back in the habit.
TT: You should see my house. Books strewn everywhere. Rabbi Lapin would be proud.
I do not seem to be like Anne's students, either. My one great desire is not publication. Sometimes I wish it were. I do not seek the magic formula for writing a book. Odd, considering how much I like Recipes on FV.
So far, I've enjoyed the Introduction the most. Not that the rest is bad, but Anne has a tendency to write off on a tangent, obviously amused with her own cleverness, and it gets a bit trying at times...
Hmm. Perhaps we have more in common than I thought.
She does remind me very much of a character of mine who joined me early in life (try 5 years old), a little gal by the name of Deborah Ellis. She was not an imaginary friend, simply a character, but she is one of the more complete characters I've not written about yet.
TT: Deborah may end up taking credit for some of my books should I become ridiculously famous and need to disappear.
Deborah writes all the time about everything. Her father is a writer and teacher, and she struggles with perfectionism. She's also got a mother who could be me in a another life. Oh, and she comes with the writer's Best Friend accessory, Tanya Wynn Zakk, the artist. Every writer needs an illustrator, right? As I grew up, I recognized them as my Id and Ego. One day, I hope they will have multiple collections of short stories which only now occur to me will be YA stories.
I guess I found my series.
So, while I don't consciously identify with Anne Lamott, I am underlining parts of the book, and I will finish it and loan it out and do all the things you do with a book you tend to like. I didn't mean to make this a review, but I'll give it 3 buttercups for humor, style and consistency. I hold one back because the language and content is occasionally more coarse than I would generally recommend (not foul but not squeaky clean, either) and one because I haven't yet found that gem of whatever I seem to need to give 5 buttercups.
I haven't found Bird by Bird as useful as Terry Burns' Writers Survival Guide, but I have found it funnier. And for all my reticence, it does keep finding its way into my purse as I leave the house.
I'm about halfway done. Yes, I continue to read Thou Shall Prosper, but Anne's book fits in my purse and has traveled with me these past two weekends. Another reason for writing a smaller book.
Anne and I have about as much in common as Gene Getz and I do. That is to say, nothing. For which, I am grateful.
I have not yet experienced her three-year struggle to produce a novel. Neither of my parents were writers. I do not write about things I remember from my past (I would only write Star Trek or Buck Rogers episodes, with some modifications) or things I see when I turn my head. I am not a voracious reader, although I'm trying to get back in the habit.
TT: You should see my house. Books strewn everywhere. Rabbi Lapin would be proud.
I do not seem to be like Anne's students, either. My one great desire is not publication. Sometimes I wish it were. I do not seek the magic formula for writing a book. Odd, considering how much I like Recipes on FV.
So far, I've enjoyed the Introduction the most. Not that the rest is bad, but Anne has a tendency to write off on a tangent, obviously amused with her own cleverness, and it gets a bit trying at times...
Hmm. Perhaps we have more in common than I thought.
She does remind me very much of a character of mine who joined me early in life (try 5 years old), a little gal by the name of Deborah Ellis. She was not an imaginary friend, simply a character, but she is one of the more complete characters I've not written about yet.
TT: Deborah may end up taking credit for some of my books should I become ridiculously famous and need to disappear.
Deborah writes all the time about everything. Her father is a writer and teacher, and she struggles with perfectionism. She's also got a mother who could be me in a another life. Oh, and she comes with the writer's Best Friend accessory, Tanya Wynn Zakk, the artist. Every writer needs an illustrator, right? As I grew up, I recognized them as my Id and Ego. One day, I hope they will have multiple collections of short stories which only now occur to me will be YA stories.
I guess I found my series.
So, while I don't consciously identify with Anne Lamott, I am underlining parts of the book, and I will finish it and loan it out and do all the things you do with a book you tend to like. I didn't mean to make this a review, but I'll give it 3 buttercups for humor, style and consistency. I hold one back because the language and content is occasionally more coarse than I would generally recommend (not foul but not squeaky clean, either) and one because I haven't yet found that gem of whatever I seem to need to give 5 buttercups.
I haven't found Bird by Bird as useful as Terry Burns' Writers Survival Guide, but I have found it funnier. And for all my reticence, it does keep finding its way into my purse as I leave the house.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Alpha Redemption by P.A. Baines
Let me begin by saying...Unfair, Paul. Not cheating. But unfair.
I should continue by saying I won my copy during a chat room book launch session. I didn't have to pay for it, but I would have. I was rearranging my budget for the month to leave out a few meals when I got the happy news. Huzzah!
And now, Alpha Redemption, a book in three courses.
Let us set the table.
Brett Denton is a broken man. He's lost his wife, his children and his will to live. He exists day to day, drink to drink, waiting for death to end his suffering.
He retains just enough sanity to avoid outright suicide, but when an opportunity arises to test pilot a dangerous mission into outer space to scout the Alpha Centauri system for habitable planets, he doesn't flinch. Our story begins as Brett takes his first steps into his spaceship home.
The first course is cauliflower soup: savory, satisfying and smooth. We settle into Brett's new life on the ship. We join him in eating, sleeping, training and interacting with the ship's computer, Jay. Brett's life will consist of one month awake and two months in hyper-sleep as the ship alternately accelerates and decelerates from light speed.
We hurt when Brett hurts. We marvel as his age begins to reverse. We pay attention as memories of his former life bubble to the surface like fragrant basil, sweet shallots or spicy ginger. It is a simple story well-told: a man, his past and a machine interacting together in space.
I enjoyed every moment of this course and licked the bowl when I was done.
TT: Originally, I thought this would be the only course. I intended to compare it to homemade garlic and rosemary mashed potatoes. Easy to swallow, imminently satisfying and with just enough surprising bits to make a reasonable meal. I was as surprised by the change as I was by what happened after the change.
Course number two is a salad of exotic ingredients. Mysteries await at Alpha Centauri. Immediate danger sets up camp within the ship. Jay the computer is becoming more erratic and...well...human. More memories surface and we see a life story told in reverse. Fascinating.
I crunched my way through this course, delighted with each new flavor. Only once did I encounter a peppercorn that tasted out of place, but the salad moved on and so did I.
The third and last course is a kind of pot pie. Bubbling ingredients hidden under a layer of flaky pastry. No idea what hearty bit would come up next, but each one delicious and infinitely chewable. I gulped my way through this course, burning my throat on occasion (Oh, wait. Those were tears). And then The End.
Hmm.
I have some gripes. I always do.
1) The peppercorn. Hopefully without spoiling anything, I was a bit surprised at what they found in the Alpha Centauri system. I would have liked to spend more time there exploring. But we didn't. Perhaps that is something I'll read in a sequel. Perhaps it is simply an unexplained mystery. I moved on, but I had to pick my teeth to do it.
2) The lack of dessert in this meal. I was hoping for something rich and bittersweet. I would have accepted cheesecake, as long as it was creamy and topped with cherries. What I got was a table of licked bowls and picked-over plates, and the waiter announcing I would have to come back another day and start over before I got dessert.
That was unfair, Paul. Please don't do it again.
It's possible I'm being harsh. Truth is, I was enjoying the story so much, I may just have been annoyed The End came, and not specifically with the form it took.
Ocilla's Mommy likes to give her favorite quotes from books. Here are some of mine.
"A conversation is headed his way and there isn't a thing he can do to avoid it." I have so been there.
"...although the words enter his retinas, they are not intercepted by his brain, and so drift off to wherever it is things go that are not understood." I have quite a few things hanging out in that place.
"...as often happens when you get to know people in positions of authority, he has realized they're actually idiots..." For once, I'll avoid launching into a political statement.
And possibly my favorite because it took me straight to The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy (a place I often go when reading Paul's blog posts):
"Not again."
So, on the buttercup scale of style, plot, humor, consistency and heart, I'm giving him four and a half buttercups. I'm holding that half back just because of the peppercorn. And maybe the lack of dessert. I do like dessert.
Before someone asks, I will post some smaller reviews on Amazon and Barnes and Noble, hopefully this weekend. Well done, Paul!
I should continue by saying I won my copy during a chat room book launch session. I didn't have to pay for it, but I would have. I was rearranging my budget for the month to leave out a few meals when I got the happy news. Huzzah!
And now, Alpha Redemption, a book in three courses.
Let us set the table.
Brett Denton is a broken man. He's lost his wife, his children and his will to live. He exists day to day, drink to drink, waiting for death to end his suffering.
He retains just enough sanity to avoid outright suicide, but when an opportunity arises to test pilot a dangerous mission into outer space to scout the Alpha Centauri system for habitable planets, he doesn't flinch. Our story begins as Brett takes his first steps into his spaceship home.
The first course is cauliflower soup: savory, satisfying and smooth. We settle into Brett's new life on the ship. We join him in eating, sleeping, training and interacting with the ship's computer, Jay. Brett's life will consist of one month awake and two months in hyper-sleep as the ship alternately accelerates and decelerates from light speed.
We hurt when Brett hurts. We marvel as his age begins to reverse. We pay attention as memories of his former life bubble to the surface like fragrant basil, sweet shallots or spicy ginger. It is a simple story well-told: a man, his past and a machine interacting together in space.
I enjoyed every moment of this course and licked the bowl when I was done.
TT: Originally, I thought this would be the only course. I intended to compare it to homemade garlic and rosemary mashed potatoes. Easy to swallow, imminently satisfying and with just enough surprising bits to make a reasonable meal. I was as surprised by the change as I was by what happened after the change.
Course number two is a salad of exotic ingredients. Mysteries await at Alpha Centauri. Immediate danger sets up camp within the ship. Jay the computer is becoming more erratic and...well...human. More memories surface and we see a life story told in reverse. Fascinating.
I crunched my way through this course, delighted with each new flavor. Only once did I encounter a peppercorn that tasted out of place, but the salad moved on and so did I.
The third and last course is a kind of pot pie. Bubbling ingredients hidden under a layer of flaky pastry. No idea what hearty bit would come up next, but each one delicious and infinitely chewable. I gulped my way through this course, burning my throat on occasion (Oh, wait. Those were tears). And then The End.
Hmm.
I have some gripes. I always do.
1) The peppercorn. Hopefully without spoiling anything, I was a bit surprised at what they found in the Alpha Centauri system. I would have liked to spend more time there exploring. But we didn't. Perhaps that is something I'll read in a sequel. Perhaps it is simply an unexplained mystery. I moved on, but I had to pick my teeth to do it.
2) The lack of dessert in this meal. I was hoping for something rich and bittersweet. I would have accepted cheesecake, as long as it was creamy and topped with cherries. What I got was a table of licked bowls and picked-over plates, and the waiter announcing I would have to come back another day and start over before I got dessert.
That was unfair, Paul. Please don't do it again.
It's possible I'm being harsh. Truth is, I was enjoying the story so much, I may just have been annoyed The End came, and not specifically with the form it took.
Ocilla's Mommy likes to give her favorite quotes from books. Here are some of mine.
"A conversation is headed his way and there isn't a thing he can do to avoid it." I have so been there.
"...although the words enter his retinas, they are not intercepted by his brain, and so drift off to wherever it is things go that are not understood." I have quite a few things hanging out in that place.
"...as often happens when you get to know people in positions of authority, he has realized they're actually idiots..." For once, I'll avoid launching into a political statement.
And possibly my favorite because it took me straight to The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy (a place I often go when reading Paul's blog posts):
"Not again."
So, on the buttercup scale of style, plot, humor, consistency and heart, I'm giving him four and a half buttercups. I'm holding that half back just because of the peppercorn. And maybe the lack of dessert. I do like dessert.
Before someone asks, I will post some smaller reviews on Amazon and Barnes and Noble, hopefully this weekend. Well done, Paul!
Thursday, April 1, 2010
A Book Review...Mine!
To my surprise, fewer than 24 hours after giving him my material, Wordcrafter has posted the interview about Star of Justice at The New Authors' Fellowship. Find the link under "blogs I follow."
I began to read with the same leaden stomach I enjoyed while reading the voting results for the MLS contest. This time, however, the lead morphed into giant butterflies that soon filled my head and floated away with all sense of reality or proportion.
I am both surprised and humbled by Wordcrafter's kind words. It was not at all my intention to "write the interview." I thought I was following his directions. Apparently I over-functioned and made it harder than it had to be. No wonder I felt so frustrated.
I am thrilled with the results, however, and once again offer thanks to the Wordcrafter for the opportunity. For the record, I don't think he has anything to feel inadequate about (and I assume a bit of it was tongue in cheek for my sake, bless him). As I said in my comment, it was his interview style I was imitating. He has written wonderful articles for other new authors that I enjoyed very much. And his discussion of The Hero's Quest was brilliant. He is a very good writer. I just have trouble releasing control. 'Nuff said.
I intended to write about April Fool's Day this morning, but Mica chose to awaken me at 3:30 instead of 4, so I'm not running on all cylinders. At this rate, she'll be waking me up before I even go to sleep. Not a problem. More time to farm.
I have two favorite April Fool's Day pranks. The first was by my father when I was very young and The Incredible Hulk was a weekly T.V. show. Dad loved Lou Ferrigno. Anyway, I was called from my bed by my father yelling that The Hulk was running through the trails behind our house. I was young enough to believe him. Even though I couldn't see him, I was sure dad was telling the truth and The Hulk had visited our neighborhood.
The second was in college. I called my mother to tell her I'd crashed my car. She did not find it amusing, although I did.
I'm not a practical joker. I enjoy the thought of the joke more than the implementation. In my mind, people always react the right way. In reality, it is far too easy for jokes to go too far.
So those are my thoughts late at night on April Fool's 2010. It has been a good day.
But all days are good days.
Now go read my interview.
I began to read with the same leaden stomach I enjoyed while reading the voting results for the MLS contest. This time, however, the lead morphed into giant butterflies that soon filled my head and floated away with all sense of reality or proportion.
I am both surprised and humbled by Wordcrafter's kind words. It was not at all my intention to "write the interview." I thought I was following his directions. Apparently I over-functioned and made it harder than it had to be. No wonder I felt so frustrated.
I am thrilled with the results, however, and once again offer thanks to the Wordcrafter for the opportunity. For the record, I don't think he has anything to feel inadequate about (and I assume a bit of it was tongue in cheek for my sake, bless him). As I said in my comment, it was his interview style I was imitating. He has written wonderful articles for other new authors that I enjoyed very much. And his discussion of The Hero's Quest was brilliant. He is a very good writer. I just have trouble releasing control. 'Nuff said.
I intended to write about April Fool's Day this morning, but Mica chose to awaken me at 3:30 instead of 4, so I'm not running on all cylinders. At this rate, she'll be waking me up before I even go to sleep. Not a problem. More time to farm.
I have two favorite April Fool's Day pranks. The first was by my father when I was very young and The Incredible Hulk was a weekly T.V. show. Dad loved Lou Ferrigno. Anyway, I was called from my bed by my father yelling that The Hulk was running through the trails behind our house. I was young enough to believe him. Even though I couldn't see him, I was sure dad was telling the truth and The Hulk had visited our neighborhood.
The second was in college. I called my mother to tell her I'd crashed my car. She did not find it amusing, although I did.
I'm not a practical joker. I enjoy the thought of the joke more than the implementation. In my mind, people always react the right way. In reality, it is far too easy for jokes to go too far.
So those are my thoughts late at night on April Fool's 2010. It has been a good day.
But all days are good days.
Now go read my interview.
Monday, March 1, 2010
Hero, Second Class by Mitchell Bonds
I finally finished this behemoth of a novel. 607 pages of rip-roaring adventure, magic, dragons, knights and accountants.
What was that? Accountants?
Yes. Turns out accountants can be some of the most dastardly villains in the known and unknown Universe. Some of you may already know that. We're soon to celebrate that most evil of accountant holidays, April 15. But, that has nothing to do with this book. Perhaps it will show up in the next.
Hero, Second Class follows the journey of Cyrus Solberg of Starspeak, which is one of the Citrus Isles off the coast of the Phoenix Isles off the coast of Centra Mundi. It's a bit out of the way, but apparently produces Heroes on a regular basis. Cyrus' father was a Hero, and Cyrus wants to be one, too. He passes his Hero test, his paperwork is approved, and he is apprenticed to Sir Reginald Oglesby. Reginald, aka the Crimson Slash, is a perfect representation of everything Heroic, including the ability to self-narrate during battle. Reginald takes Cyrus under his shield and teaches the boy everything he needs to know to become a true Hero, everything except distrust of magic.
You see, Reginald doesn't hold with magic use, even though it isn't forbidden for Heroes to use magic. He doesn't trust magicians or magical items of any kind (other than weapons). Unfortunately for Reg, Cyrus seems to have an aptitude for magic, an aptitude that grows more powerful and more destructive as the story progresses.
Although Cyrus is the Protagonist, we meet many colorful characters as he battles and studies and rescues his way from Apprentice to Hero, Second Class. Kris and Katana are the sister/brother pair of Katheni (cat-like humanoids) who join the company because they happen to be going the same direction for a while. Keeth the Dragon (yes, it's Keeth, like teeth) fights Reg to a standstill, so dragon and knight call it a draw and pledge friendship instead. We even meet a zombie who, I have no doubt, will make an appearance in a later book.
We mustn't forget the Villains: Anthony the Mace, Voshtyr Demonkin, and Roger Farella, the fish-like accountant. That's only a sampling, really. The whole book is full of Villains and Heroes, and apprentice Villains and apprentice Heroes. We even have a Hero turning Villain and possibly a Villain turning Hero. It's a whole Villain/Hero kind of thing.
If you want more about the story, you can read the blurbs or some inside pages or whatnot through the link. This is a review, after all, not a marketing sheet.
Mitchell Bonds had me in the first two sentences of the prologue. I knew this was going to be a twisted version of Greek mythology and video-gamer philosophy in one tongue-in-cheek, role-play worthy romp of a story. He did not disappoint.
The prologue was the only consistently laugh-out-loud section of the book for me, but I read the rest with a goofy grin and occasional snort-laugh as the author went from serious to silly within a single sentence. Cyrus lives in a world not unlike Cartoonland from Who Framed Roger Rabbit? The kind of place where Heroes can survive a fall from a sheer rock face or being peppered with 100 arrows but cannot avoid the fall or the arrows because to do so would break the first rule of being a Hero: Taking Unnecessary Risks. However, Heroes and Villians are also bound by rules defined by their various Guilds and enforced with monotonous regularity (that's where the accountants come in).
My favorite section was the explanation of magic, which sadly came almost at the end of the book. I enjoyed learning about The Elements, The Capital Letters, and The Arbitrary Numbers more than Cyrus did. I was also laughing harder than he was. His life was on the line.
I must warn you, though, that one thing happens consistently throughout Hero, Second Class.
Mitchell Bonds cheats.
Oh, he does it on purpose, and right in front of your face. He points it out at the beginning of every chapter, and continues pointing throughout the chapter. An example? A few pages into Chapter 2, "Cyrus clambered up the rope and sat on a wider ledge, preparing himself for blatant exposition."
"Blatant exposition" is "telling." The one thing we're not allowed to do as writers, Mitchell Bonds does. Bold as brass, that one, he breaks every rule of writing with a wink, wink, nudge, nudge, and I love him for it. The overall effect is absolutely hilarious. If this were a movie, I would expect an "accidental" shot of the narrator sipping coffee waiting for his turn to speak and looking up in surprise at the audience. As it is, the narrator breaks in regularly to explain to the reader how things work in this world. In a lot of ways, they work exactly like they do here. They just seem funnier there.
I have a few gripes. I always do.
Even with 607 pages, I felt like I was skimming the story instead of trudging through it with the characters. This may be just because things moved very quickly from problem to problem, without a lot of down-time for processing. Most people might not consider that a gripe.
At times, it was hard to take the serious seriously in all the silly. I did feel sorry for a few of the good guys who got smashed. One captain whose soul was turned into a gem, especially. Poor reward for doing your job well, but, as my brothers would say, no good deed goes unpunished. I was touched by the side-story of the griffin Slashback and her rider.
The end came a bit fast, and, even though I know there's going to be another book - God willing - I felt a little abandoned, like at the end of Fellowship of the Ring. There is no good way to end that movie, and I don't know that there was a good way to end this book. The author sure gave it a try, though, and I give him points for it.
Mostly, it felt like I was reading a log of my brothers' role playing games, with less blood and more God. Probably why I enjoyed it.
Hmm. If I'm going to do this a lot, I should create a rating system. I'll say four buttercups out of five for style, plot, humor and consistency. I'm keeping one back because of the cheating.
What was that? Accountants?
Yes. Turns out accountants can be some of the most dastardly villains in the known and unknown Universe. Some of you may already know that. We're soon to celebrate that most evil of accountant holidays, April 15. But, that has nothing to do with this book. Perhaps it will show up in the next.
Hero, Second Class follows the journey of Cyrus Solberg of Starspeak, which is one of the Citrus Isles off the coast of the Phoenix Isles off the coast of Centra Mundi. It's a bit out of the way, but apparently produces Heroes on a regular basis. Cyrus' father was a Hero, and Cyrus wants to be one, too. He passes his Hero test, his paperwork is approved, and he is apprenticed to Sir Reginald Oglesby. Reginald, aka the Crimson Slash, is a perfect representation of everything Heroic, including the ability to self-narrate during battle. Reginald takes Cyrus under his shield and teaches the boy everything he needs to know to become a true Hero, everything except distrust of magic.
You see, Reginald doesn't hold with magic use, even though it isn't forbidden for Heroes to use magic. He doesn't trust magicians or magical items of any kind (other than weapons). Unfortunately for Reg, Cyrus seems to have an aptitude for magic, an aptitude that grows more powerful and more destructive as the story progresses.
Although Cyrus is the Protagonist, we meet many colorful characters as he battles and studies and rescues his way from Apprentice to Hero, Second Class. Kris and Katana are the sister/brother pair of Katheni (cat-like humanoids) who join the company because they happen to be going the same direction for a while. Keeth the Dragon (yes, it's Keeth, like teeth) fights Reg to a standstill, so dragon and knight call it a draw and pledge friendship instead. We even meet a zombie who, I have no doubt, will make an appearance in a later book.
We mustn't forget the Villains: Anthony the Mace, Voshtyr Demonkin, and Roger Farella, the fish-like accountant. That's only a sampling, really. The whole book is full of Villains and Heroes, and apprentice Villains and apprentice Heroes. We even have a Hero turning Villain and possibly a Villain turning Hero. It's a whole Villain/Hero kind of thing.
If you want more about the story, you can read the blurbs or some inside pages or whatnot through the link. This is a review, after all, not a marketing sheet.
Mitchell Bonds had me in the first two sentences of the prologue. I knew this was going to be a twisted version of Greek mythology and video-gamer philosophy in one tongue-in-cheek, role-play worthy romp of a story. He did not disappoint.
The prologue was the only consistently laugh-out-loud section of the book for me, but I read the rest with a goofy grin and occasional snort-laugh as the author went from serious to silly within a single sentence. Cyrus lives in a world not unlike Cartoonland from Who Framed Roger Rabbit? The kind of place where Heroes can survive a fall from a sheer rock face or being peppered with 100 arrows but cannot avoid the fall or the arrows because to do so would break the first rule of being a Hero: Taking Unnecessary Risks. However, Heroes and Villians are also bound by rules defined by their various Guilds and enforced with monotonous regularity (that's where the accountants come in).
My favorite section was the explanation of magic, which sadly came almost at the end of the book. I enjoyed learning about The Elements, The Capital Letters, and The Arbitrary Numbers more than Cyrus did. I was also laughing harder than he was. His life was on the line.
I must warn you, though, that one thing happens consistently throughout Hero, Second Class.
Mitchell Bonds cheats.
Oh, he does it on purpose, and right in front of your face. He points it out at the beginning of every chapter, and continues pointing throughout the chapter. An example? A few pages into Chapter 2, "Cyrus clambered up the rope and sat on a wider ledge, preparing himself for blatant exposition."
"Blatant exposition" is "telling." The one thing we're not allowed to do as writers, Mitchell Bonds does. Bold as brass, that one, he breaks every rule of writing with a wink, wink, nudge, nudge, and I love him for it. The overall effect is absolutely hilarious. If this were a movie, I would expect an "accidental" shot of the narrator sipping coffee waiting for his turn to speak and looking up in surprise at the audience. As it is, the narrator breaks in regularly to explain to the reader how things work in this world. In a lot of ways, they work exactly like they do here. They just seem funnier there.
I have a few gripes. I always do.
Even with 607 pages, I felt like I was skimming the story instead of trudging through it with the characters. This may be just because things moved very quickly from problem to problem, without a lot of down-time for processing. Most people might not consider that a gripe.
At times, it was hard to take the serious seriously in all the silly. I did feel sorry for a few of the good guys who got smashed. One captain whose soul was turned into a gem, especially. Poor reward for doing your job well, but, as my brothers would say, no good deed goes unpunished. I was touched by the side-story of the griffin Slashback and her rider.
The end came a bit fast, and, even though I know there's going to be another book - God willing - I felt a little abandoned, like at the end of Fellowship of the Ring. There is no good way to end that movie, and I don't know that there was a good way to end this book. The author sure gave it a try, though, and I give him points for it.
Mostly, it felt like I was reading a log of my brothers' role playing games, with less blood and more God. Probably why I enjoyed it.
Hmm. If I'm going to do this a lot, I should create a rating system. I'll say four buttercups out of five for style, plot, humor and consistency. I'm keeping one back because of the cheating.
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Starfire by Stuart Vaughn Stockton
I learned about MLP because of this author.
"Let me explain. No, is too much. Let me sum up."
Some fellow church members knew Stockton as a boy and bought his book when it was published by MLP. They loaned me the book and some Internet links for Stockton, and I did the research that ultimately led to my entry in the MLS Premise Contest.
Back to the book.
I started reading Starfire in the emergency room when one of my grandmothers was getting stitched up after a fall. Several family members can attest to my despair at that time, and not for my grandmother's sake (she recovered nicely). The prologue instantly transported me to a world where dinosaurs are the dominant species, volcanoes spew ash and fire into the air at will, and plants move around as much as the animals. I thought, If this is the quality MLP seeks, I'll never make it with them. Who could? This writer is too good for the rest of us mere mortals.
Again, my relatives will testify to this. So will the hospital emergency staff on duty that night. I am not the quietly despairing type.
Stockton creates an enormous, violent, technicolor world, where Rathe must survive and thrive in the fight-or-die-fighting rules of his society. His empire is at war, and through sheer coincidence (or is it?), he gets the break he needs to elevate his position from unknown runt to war hero.
Is he worthy of the trust of his new team, or will he prove himself to be just a soft-shell from an unknown family who got a lucky break?
I have never read nor wanted to read a book with dinosaurs as the main characters. After the first chapter, I wished I had a tail because the things are so darn useful.
Fortunately for me, my despair eventually wore off and I realized Stockton is not a god of writing but a man with a well-conceived and executed story. I was relieved when I found my first typo (Jeff the Publisher explained on the boards why books have typos, and his reasons sound accurate).
Dinosaurs with weapons, computers, airplanes and ground transports are a wonderful mix of contrasts to this reader, reminding me of the epic battle between the demon Hell Boy and the fairy monsters in Hell Boy 2. Talk about clash of worldviews!
Stockton isn't afraid of violence, blood or killing characters to prove the situation is serious. This is a real world, with a real war, and real casualties. I especially enjoyed the little Karey Or (carrier?) who contains the computer program that will launch the Starfire weapon and end the war, thus elevating Rathe to positions beyond his wildest dreams.
This is subtitled Book 1. I have no idea how many books are planned, but I will be buying them, right after I buy a copy of this one for myself.
This book will appeal to guy and girl geeks and nerds (as far as I know, jocks only read sports magazines, and there isn't a lot of romance for the girly-girls). I had to read in snatches over the course of a month, and I had no problem remembering where I was or what was happening.
Stockton includes size charts (I used a lot), species definitions (don't think I read it) and lexicon of unfamiliar words (only looked at twice because he's so good at defining in context). I would have liked a listing of all the different types of saurn but not having one didn't hinder me too much.
To sum up: Great book. Buy it. Read it. Don't despair.
"Let me explain. No, is too much. Let me sum up."
Some fellow church members knew Stockton as a boy and bought his book when it was published by MLP. They loaned me the book and some Internet links for Stockton, and I did the research that ultimately led to my entry in the MLS Premise Contest.
Back to the book.
I started reading Starfire in the emergency room when one of my grandmothers was getting stitched up after a fall. Several family members can attest to my despair at that time, and not for my grandmother's sake (she recovered nicely). The prologue instantly transported me to a world where dinosaurs are the dominant species, volcanoes spew ash and fire into the air at will, and plants move around as much as the animals. I thought, If this is the quality MLP seeks, I'll never make it with them. Who could? This writer is too good for the rest of us mere mortals.
Again, my relatives will testify to this. So will the hospital emergency staff on duty that night. I am not the quietly despairing type.
Stockton creates an enormous, violent, technicolor world, where Rathe must survive and thrive in the fight-or-die-fighting rules of his society. His empire is at war, and through sheer coincidence (or is it?), he gets the break he needs to elevate his position from unknown runt to war hero.
Is he worthy of the trust of his new team, or will he prove himself to be just a soft-shell from an unknown family who got a lucky break?
I have never read nor wanted to read a book with dinosaurs as the main characters. After the first chapter, I wished I had a tail because the things are so darn useful.
Fortunately for me, my despair eventually wore off and I realized Stockton is not a god of writing but a man with a well-conceived and executed story. I was relieved when I found my first typo (Jeff the Publisher explained on the boards why books have typos, and his reasons sound accurate).
Dinosaurs with weapons, computers, airplanes and ground transports are a wonderful mix of contrasts to this reader, reminding me of the epic battle between the demon Hell Boy and the fairy monsters in Hell Boy 2. Talk about clash of worldviews!
Stockton isn't afraid of violence, blood or killing characters to prove the situation is serious. This is a real world, with a real war, and real casualties. I especially enjoyed the little Karey Or (carrier?) who contains the computer program that will launch the Starfire weapon and end the war, thus elevating Rathe to positions beyond his wildest dreams.
This is subtitled Book 1. I have no idea how many books are planned, but I will be buying them, right after I buy a copy of this one for myself.
This book will appeal to guy and girl geeks and nerds (as far as I know, jocks only read sports magazines, and there isn't a lot of romance for the girly-girls). I had to read in snatches over the course of a month, and I had no problem remembering where I was or what was happening.
Stockton includes size charts (I used a lot), species definitions (don't think I read it) and lexicon of unfamiliar words (only looked at twice because he's so good at defining in context). I would have liked a listing of all the different types of saurn but not having one didn't hinder me too much.
To sum up: Great book. Buy it. Read it. Don't despair.
Friday, October 2, 2009
A Slow Burn by Mary E. DeMuth
I finished the book at 6 AM (thank you, Mica, for the 5 AM wake up call). I was satisfied.
A Slow Burn is the second book in a planned trilogy. It follows several months in the life of Emory Chance, a pothead, single-mother whose thirteen year old daughter Daisy is abducted and murdered in their small town of Defiance, Texas. Sounds lovely, doesn't it? You might be surprised.
Emory has lived a hard life. Her own upbringing was a quilt of abuse, neglect and hardship. To me, it was a miracle she did as well as she did with her daughter. The soul of the story is the soul of Emory Chance, a guilt-ridden sinner's soul desperately in need of forgiveness and redemption.
Another major player in our story is Hixon, the town handyman who had it from On High that he is to marry Emory or "Missy," as he knows her. Hixon has lived his own life of troubles, and his heart is burdened to care for this "orphan."
Our supporting cast includes a woman dying of cancer, a family suffering under an abusive father, the absent father of Daisy who puts in an appearance only after the child's death, the widowed owner of the local diner and the hallucinated ghost of the murdered girl. Sounds a bit like Peyton Place. Or Passions.
One other person fills nearly every page of the book: Jesus. This is a story of redemption, after all. No hole is so dark Jesus will not go down with you or so deep Jesus cannot lift you out.
What I liked about the book was the stellar grammar, the sense of southern drawl in the dialogue without the annoying phonetic spellings (why I hate Mark Twain), and the sense of grounding. I had no doubt this story occurred in a tiny, dusty, at-the-poverty-line kind of place, where everybody struggles to get by.
What I didn't like was that I hadn't read Daisy Chain, the first book. I kept wondering if I was missing something important. I did read an Amazon review of the first book and it turns out it's the story of the young man from the abusive family, so I think I'm good. Once I knew that, I relaxed a little. Mary also has a fondness for similes that was occasionally disruptive to my focus. On the other hand, I overuse still, parentheses and modifying phrases after the object, so I'm not going to throw any stones.
To the geeks and nerds of my acquaintance, start with the first book. It's about an angst-ridden boy, and geeks get that. Also, nerds with a fondness for Joss Whedon's heartless sacrifices for story impact will like A Slow Burn.
To the readers of horror, don't bother. There isn't enough suspense or terror in this story to hold your interest. A fine line between clarity and voyeurism exists, and Mary does a respectful job of telling just enough to show the pain that Emory's drug use is trying to mask without over-indulging in the gory details. Stephen King would never hold back like Mary does. He would benefit from reading this book, though.
To readers of secular, historical romance, beware. This is a love story, but not the kind you expect.
For the remaining 80% of the population, I see no reason why you wouldn't enjoy and benefit from this book. I teared up a few times, although not in the expected places, I'm sure. I read a few chapters that yanked me along to see what happened. I yelled at Emory when she stupidly followed a potential murderer into her own house! I thought even a pothead would have more sense than that. Guess not.
So, Mary, congratulations on yet another book completed and out there for stuffy-nosed, unpublished upstarts like me to read and review. Following your example, I have tried to be both honest and respectful. I hope I succeeded.
God's blessings on you and your family.
A Slow Burn is the second book in a planned trilogy. It follows several months in the life of Emory Chance, a pothead, single-mother whose thirteen year old daughter Daisy is abducted and murdered in their small town of Defiance, Texas. Sounds lovely, doesn't it? You might be surprised.
Emory has lived a hard life. Her own upbringing was a quilt of abuse, neglect and hardship. To me, it was a miracle she did as well as she did with her daughter. The soul of the story is the soul of Emory Chance, a guilt-ridden sinner's soul desperately in need of forgiveness and redemption.
Another major player in our story is Hixon, the town handyman who had it from On High that he is to marry Emory or "Missy," as he knows her. Hixon has lived his own life of troubles, and his heart is burdened to care for this "orphan."
Our supporting cast includes a woman dying of cancer, a family suffering under an abusive father, the absent father of Daisy who puts in an appearance only after the child's death, the widowed owner of the local diner and the hallucinated ghost of the murdered girl. Sounds a bit like Peyton Place. Or Passions.
One other person fills nearly every page of the book: Jesus. This is a story of redemption, after all. No hole is so dark Jesus will not go down with you or so deep Jesus cannot lift you out.
What I liked about the book was the stellar grammar, the sense of southern drawl in the dialogue without the annoying phonetic spellings (why I hate Mark Twain), and the sense of grounding. I had no doubt this story occurred in a tiny, dusty, at-the-poverty-line kind of place, where everybody struggles to get by.
What I didn't like was that I hadn't read Daisy Chain, the first book. I kept wondering if I was missing something important. I did read an Amazon review of the first book and it turns out it's the story of the young man from the abusive family, so I think I'm good. Once I knew that, I relaxed a little. Mary also has a fondness for similes that was occasionally disruptive to my focus. On the other hand, I overuse still, parentheses and modifying phrases after the object, so I'm not going to throw any stones.
To the geeks and nerds of my acquaintance, start with the first book. It's about an angst-ridden boy, and geeks get that. Also, nerds with a fondness for Joss Whedon's heartless sacrifices for story impact will like A Slow Burn.
To the readers of horror, don't bother. There isn't enough suspense or terror in this story to hold your interest. A fine line between clarity and voyeurism exists, and Mary does a respectful job of telling just enough to show the pain that Emory's drug use is trying to mask without over-indulging in the gory details. Stephen King would never hold back like Mary does. He would benefit from reading this book, though.
To readers of secular, historical romance, beware. This is a love story, but not the kind you expect.
For the remaining 80% of the population, I see no reason why you wouldn't enjoy and benefit from this book. I teared up a few times, although not in the expected places, I'm sure. I read a few chapters that yanked me along to see what happened. I yelled at Emory when she stupidly followed a potential murderer into her own house! I thought even a pothead would have more sense than that. Guess not.
So, Mary, congratulations on yet another book completed and out there for stuffy-nosed, unpublished upstarts like me to read and review. Following your example, I have tried to be both honest and respectful. I hope I succeeded.
God's blessings on you and your family.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Prelude to a Book Review
I've mentioned Mary DeMuth before, and I will again, but let me bring you up to speed on how I came to review her newest book.
My reading preferences fall in the fantasy/sci-fi genre. If you walk through my library (I have actual stacks built into my basement) the majority of titles you see fall under that category. My mother preferred historical romances, and I have a good many of those I appropriated from her. I like vampires and the supernatural, too, so I have books in the horror genre. Add some textbooks I kept from college on family therapy and Biblical studies, and that's my library.
Thanks to the six cats and a dog, I don't have a lot of spending money. I only read books I own because if I like them I want to read them again. Because I'm poor, I don't buy many books. See the problem? Not one book on my favorites list in "about me" was written after 1970, and most were a good deal before then. I also don't like change. I tend to reread my books on a tri-annual rotation. That's a lot for a new book/author to come up against.
After hearing Mary speak at Roaring Lambs, I signed on to her website and her blog and kept an eye on her. Published author that she is, I thought I could learn something useful from her. I got an email early this month asking if I would be interested in getting a free book to review. Would I! Would I?
This is one of those moments when Old Me would have said "no." Too risky. Just hang back and that opportunity will move on to greener pastures and good riddance. But new, Gene Getz-inspired Me said "why not?"
I replied in the affirmative, and A Slow Burn arrived shortly thereafter.
That's when things began to fall apart. The book sat on the table for a few days instead of moving to the reading room (most people have 1 to 2 1/2 of these in their houses). I did this because I knew I would be reviewing it, and I wanted to give it several hours at a stretch to sink in. This was a mistake.
Turns out I didn't have my usual "several hours at a stretch" month. Since that Roaring Lambs conference, I've taken on a lot of new opportunities which drastically curtail my reading time.
Which brings me to today and this post. I wanted to post my review on the official "coming out" day for A Slow Burn, but I haven't finished the book yet. I am almost done, and it is glued to my side wherever I go in case I have a few minutes to read.
God willing, I'll finish it tomorrow morning and have a review by lunch. God may be willing, but this flesh is weak.
Fortunately, I did take a few moments to look at some of the other reviews, and it seems Mary has written a hit with a lot of folks.
We'll know tomorrow if I'm one of them.
My reading preferences fall in the fantasy/sci-fi genre. If you walk through my library (I have actual stacks built into my basement) the majority of titles you see fall under that category. My mother preferred historical romances, and I have a good many of those I appropriated from her. I like vampires and the supernatural, too, so I have books in the horror genre. Add some textbooks I kept from college on family therapy and Biblical studies, and that's my library.
Thanks to the six cats and a dog, I don't have a lot of spending money. I only read books I own because if I like them I want to read them again. Because I'm poor, I don't buy many books. See the problem? Not one book on my favorites list in "about me" was written after 1970, and most were a good deal before then. I also don't like change. I tend to reread my books on a tri-annual rotation. That's a lot for a new book/author to come up against.
After hearing Mary speak at Roaring Lambs, I signed on to her website and her blog and kept an eye on her. Published author that she is, I thought I could learn something useful from her. I got an email early this month asking if I would be interested in getting a free book to review. Would I! Would I?
This is one of those moments when Old Me would have said "no." Too risky. Just hang back and that opportunity will move on to greener pastures and good riddance. But new, Gene Getz-inspired Me said "why not?"
I replied in the affirmative, and A Slow Burn arrived shortly thereafter.
That's when things began to fall apart. The book sat on the table for a few days instead of moving to the reading room (most people have 1 to 2 1/2 of these in their houses). I did this because I knew I would be reviewing it, and I wanted to give it several hours at a stretch to sink in. This was a mistake.
Turns out I didn't have my usual "several hours at a stretch" month. Since that Roaring Lambs conference, I've taken on a lot of new opportunities which drastically curtail my reading time.
Which brings me to today and this post. I wanted to post my review on the official "coming out" day for A Slow Burn, but I haven't finished the book yet. I am almost done, and it is glued to my side wherever I go in case I have a few minutes to read.
God willing, I'll finish it tomorrow morning and have a review by lunch. God may be willing, but this flesh is weak.
Fortunately, I did take a few moments to look at some of the other reviews, and it seems Mary has written a hit with a lot of folks.
We'll know tomorrow if I'm one of them.
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