Friday, April 8, 2016

Becoming Naomi Léon by Pam Muñoz Ryan


Rating: WORTHY!

Published in Spanish as Yo, Naomi León, and read rather nicely by Annie Kozuch, this short story is about Naomi, of course, who lives with her "special needs" brother Owen, and her grandmother, after her own mother pretty much left them in the lurch. And now she's back, from outer space, she shows up at the door with that dumb look upon her face. They should have changed their trailer park, they should have fled upon a whim, if they'd known for just one second she'd be back to bother them! She's returned with her new boyfriend Clive, and a new name, to reclaim her kids, but Clive, it seems, has an agenda which is more tightly aligned with claiming dependent benefits than it is with wanting to love and care for two young kids. In fact, Mom wants only Naomi, not Owen.

At several audiobook web sites, Naomi's name is given as Naomi Guadalupe Zamora Outlaw, but in the actual book (which I take as canon over the blurbs!), her name is actually Naomi Soledad Léon Outlaw, the last part being her grandmother's name, and one which has brought her grief at the hands (or more accurately at the lips) of some moronic kids in school. The ordered and structured life they have in Lemon Tree, California (a lemon tree, my dear Watson!), where they live in a small trailer nicknamed 'Baby Beluga', might end up as a rather reckless road trip to find their father, Santiago, who evidently now lives in Oaxaca, Mexico. He was run out of their lives by mom, who might just now be pushing them back into his arms.

The kids' names didn't seem to fit, of me. Would a Santiago name his kids Naomi and Owen? It seemed just as unlikely that their mom would do it, given that she's just pretentiously changed her name to Skyla. I'm not sure what Skyla's motive is. Maybe she's just going along with Clive's plan, but after she slaps Naomi across the face, Naomi decides where she wants to be, and it ain't by momma's side.

There was one unintentional amusing moment when the narrator said "syrupy glaze" and with the Mexican element and the religious element to this story, along with my warped mind, I couldn't help but think of this as 'syrup igles" - but igles isn't the word for church, as it happens, it's iglesia, so it didn't quite work but almost! it works a lot better in French: syrup église!

The novel slipped a bit for me. It was interesting right up until they went to Mexico and we got bogged down in the radish carving festival, but that didn't last long, and it picked up again when Santiago arrived on the scene. Overall I liked this and felt it to be a worthy read (despite the fact that it has won some medals and honors!), and I recommend it.


Thursday, April 7, 2016

Foiled by Jane Yolen, Mike Cavallaro


Rating: WORTHY!

This is the first volume in a joyous and nicely illustrated (by Mike Cavallaro) series. It's a small format graphic novel about a middle-grade girl named Aliera Carstairs who is the chosen one - chosen, that is, by the faerie world to protect them against the troll world, led by the Dark Lord. She meets a new guy in school named Avery castle, and despite the fact that he's hot-looking, he seems really uninterested in anyone but Aliera, although he doesn't say no to a kiss and a hug form whichever female wants to lay one on him.

Aliera is attracted to him but really not that interested. She'd rather go to her fencing lessons or enjoy an RPG with her cousin, who is sickly, but perky. This doesn't prevent her from accepting when Avery asks her out on a date - so it would seem. The venue is Grand Central Terminal, form which you rightly assume that Aliera lives in NYC. She;s late in arriving and wondering whether Avery is also late or has stood her up (her opinion of boys is lower than most). She has her fencing kit with her having just come from practice, and she puts on her fencing mask to protect her from a particularly bothersome bird (evidently the same bird which has been stalking her throughout the novel - something she would have noticed had she been more observant.

With the mask in place, color-blind Aliera, who sees more shades of grey than EL James, is suddenly aware of a second world superimposed over the first - a world of brilliant, rich color, which is focused entirely on fantastical creatures the like of which she'd only ever heard of in the more bizarre fairy tales. It turns out that Alierea is a defender of the Seelie - a faerie world which has chosen her as its champion. She can fight the bad guys with her épée, the one her mom scrounged up from a yard sale. That faceted blob of chromium infused aluminium oxide which Aliera had supposed was fake turns out to be, it would seem, a real ruby.

I really liked this story which I came to by way of volume two - so you can read them out of order without losing too much. I loved the story, I loved how feisty, relentless, and resourceful Aliera was, and I enjoyed the whole presentation. i recommend this and its sequel.


Curses Foiled Again by Jane Yolen, Mike Cavallaro


Rating: WORTHY!

This is a joyous and nicely illustrated (by Mike Cavallaro), small format graphic novel about a middle-grade girl who is the chosen one - chosen, that is, by the faerie world to protect them against the troll world, led by the Dark Lord. Yes, it's trope, but this is different enough and irreverent enough that I loved it. It's Seelie versus Unseelie here, and this is number 2 in the 'Foiled" series. While I am not a fan of series, this one might be one of the few exceptions I make, because I would like to read more of these adventures. I loved the way the chapters were titled after various fencing postures and strikes/defenses.

Foiled is a play on the fact that feisty and self-motivated main character Aliera Carstairs can fence something fierce, especially now she has a light saber. Actually it's a light foil. And the light is on the hilt, not the blade. So an anti-light foil is what she carries. Or something like that. Sorry, anti-light weapon! Never call it a foil! And especially don't refer to it as silver foil! (I added that bit!). Anyway, moving right along, in this adventure, she's trolled by a troll named Avery (he watches her like a clock?) who in daylight looks like a middle grader (or maybe a young, young adult), but in the dark, turns into a rather large troll-type dude with lower tusks rather like the Orcs in the upcoming Warcraft movie, and just like them, he turns out to be a good guy, who acknowledges that he's bound to Aliera, who he calls his liege lord.

Aliera doesn't trust him as far as she can throw him in his troll form, which is to say not at all. She rejects his every overture despite the fact that he seems desperate to impart important information to her. In the end they form a grudging (on her part) alliance to solve an problem, and she learns to trust him. A bit. I loved that she was so independent and not the least but fluffy instadore as we see far too often in stories like this. She was a strong character with a unique voice, who was self-sufficient and a go-getter and I was in love with her, disgusting as that is. Yes, I admit it. So seelie me!

This wasn't apparent to me form this volume, but evidently the main character is colorblind in our world and only sees color in the faerie world. Maybe I'm just slow, because now I think back on it, it seems obvious, but I'd thought this had nothing to do with the character's PoV! I thought it was simply an art trick to make our world look a drab gray, while the faeries looked almost psychedelic - which was a nice effect. Apparently not! Anyway, the immediate problem (in this volume) was nicely resolved with a sweet and satisfying ending, but the story remains open enough that more adventures could come, so it was a really good read with lots of promise and warmth and amusing bits and pieces. I recommend this as a worthy read.


Tank Girl Carioca by Mike McMahon, Alan Martin


Rating: WORTHY!

This was an amusingly irreverent graphic novel with decent, if rudimentary artwork, and indecent text. It has a nice look to it from the coloring. Tank Girl, aka Rebecca Buck, is the feisty, criminal owner of a tank. She was originally invented by artist Jamie Hewlett who illustrated the first Tank Girl comic. TG lives in a post-apocalyptic Australia, although the novel has a much more Brit feel than it does Aussie due to author Alan Martin's origins. TG's boyfriend is a mutant kangaroo named Booga. In this volume, she has three other girls in her "gang", which are Jet Girl (who flies a Harrier jump jet and who at one point early in the series was certifiably insane, although in this volume she seems like the only one who isn't insane), and Boat Girl. In this edition there's also a foul mouthed critter of indeterminate species who is randomly dismissed as a lemming (a bitter lemming, in fact!) and a rat, both of which are rudely dismissed by the critter himself.

In this story, Tank Girl and Booga are at a game show and they get a chance to compete. They get all the questions right, including the last prize-winning one, but the show's host, who has taken a distinct dislike to them, lies about the answer and they lose everything. TG, who cares less that she lost than she does about the host's whispered insults aimed at her, decides that nothing less than hanging, drawing, and quartering will deliver adequate justice for this. She concocts an elaborate Heath Robinson plan to achieve her aim, but afterwards, she's overcome by remorse, and starts her own religion, named after the Carioca bar she frequents. Her changed life is doomed to failure, though, as you might guess.

I thought this story was hilarious. It reminds me of the ridiculous ideas I came up with as a kid and the even more ridiculous ones I came up with as a teenager. If you like Monty Python you might like this one, but don't expect a soup to nuts story or even logic! I recommend this.


Tuesday, April 5, 2016

The Mysterious Benedict Society by Trenton Lee Stewart


Rating: WARTY!

This audiobook started out well, but rapidly deteriorated into tedium maximum™! Seriously. The premise, of a young, purportedly intelligent orphan managing to get himself into a secret society, and discovering that this society is investigating subliminal messages being transmitted over the airwaves to come out into our minds through TV and radio isn't original, but it does make for a promising start to a middle-grade story. The problem was that once this set-up was put in place, nothing happened! I mean literally nothing happened. The story just rambled on and on and on and on with these kids whining and discussing, and arguing and contemplating, and cogitating and regurgitating, and NOTHING HAPPENED!

We're told that Mr Benedict has tried going to the authorities, but that they paid him no attention because the subliminal messaging is getting to the adults, too, because you know the only thing that all adults do is listen to TV and radio all the time. It was nonsensical. The question as to why Mr Benedict had not gone to the media or published his proof on the Internet was never even raised. No wonder this moron needed kids to help him. Any kid is smarter than he was, whether they had passed the weird-ass tests Reynard had to take or not! And let;s not even get into the evil twin trope which it takes these geniuses forever to figure out.

I quit it about forty percent in because I could not stand the dull story, and the voice of the reader was just awful. The guy who reads this, Del Roy, must have been in his eighties when he recorded it, and while that voice would have been great had the story been about political machinations or boardroom subterfuge, it was completely out of place here. There wasn't a paragraph went by where I wasn't yanked out of the story at some point because of the incongruity of this croaky voice trying to impersonate these kids. It didn't work, and neither did this story. I can't recommend it.


Monday, April 4, 2016

Little Girl Pink by Mary Lee


Rating: WORTHY!

This is a charming bedtime book for those little girls (and boys) who can't seem to get sleepy when they're supposed to. Little Girl pink is one of 'em, and she's the very devil to get to sleep because her grey bear is missing! Oh my! I can't tell you how many times that's kept me awake. Her industrious mom (who I suspect has dealt with these issues personally!) tries her best to help her with counting sheep (the sheep are asleep!), a nice warm bath, but now there's a storm outside.

That bear is out there somewhere, and if Fox and Mulder can't find it, it's up to you, mom! There is a happy ending to this story, rest assured, and finally little miss tear-away closes those sleepy eyes and nods off. There's also an object lesson here in making sure your kid hugs a different plush toy each night, so they don't get stuck on only one, but of course, she's a little individual, so maybe that won't work. I think it's worth a try! Warm milk might work too, assuming your kid isn't lactose intolerant in which case it would be a disaster. Maybe some soft classical music on the iPod? Anything is worth trying once, right?!

I liked this story because it was warm and fuzzy (yeah, I'm a softy despite some of my reviews!), it's nicely drawn and colored, and it tells a useful tale. I'm not going to say anything about the color scheme for girls (other than this)! I recommend this one as a worthy read. Assuming you can stay awake through it! Note that the book was readable on a smart phone, but it's probably a lot more enjoyable on a tablet or in the printed format.


Sea Turtles by Kay de Silva


Rating: WORTHY!

Who doesn't like turtles? This brilliant color story for young children goes under the ocean to look at sea turtles, and with the glorious photographs, we're right there with the divers. But it's not only gorgeous pictures! It's also an education as to how these turtles are built 9strongly!), how they live (peacefully!) and what they get up to (travel and food!). Most of their time it seems, from the pictures, is spent on vacation in warm holiday resorts! I am envious!

On the other hand there's a lot of travel involved. It's a lonely life, and unlike me when I commute, they don't get to listen to audio books! What goes on in their turtle minds as they swim thousands of miles? Plus if you're a turtle you have to eat sponges which, while I am sure is very absorbing, is not my favorite food! Other turtles eat jellyfish, which sounds tempting, but I'm guessing it doesn't really taste like Jell-O! Note that green turtles get their name not from their color (which isn't always green), but from the fact that they eat greens! Healthy little critters!

Then there's that laborious trek over the sand to lay eggs. I don't know about you but I dislike the sand sticking all over me after I come out of the ocean, but the turtles don't seem to mind being coated in it. Turtles are tough. They have to be to survive that mad dash over the sand after hatching, with predators on the look-out for them. No wonder they are survivors and live so long: eighty to a hundred years!

This book, part of 'an amazing world' series, was a joy: very informative, readable on a smart phone, and it talked about different species and was fill of information in small bite-sized pieces that kids can remember. I recommend it.


The Honk of Zagonk by Pat Hatt


Rating: WORTHY!

Yes, the name of the story, the name of the author? odd, huh? But this story - about finding your place and fitting it as well as standing out was a sweet one. In poetic quatrains with colorful pastel pictures, the story of Zagonk the dragon who couldn't blast fire, but could honk like a giant goose stands out as both amusing and informative. Zagonk doesn't have a chance of winning the dragon flame contest because he flamed out, yet when the frost giant comes, freezing all the flames the dragons can blow, only Zagonk can save them with his ice-crushing honking!

This was a sweet and entertaining story for young children which was amusing and encouraging and teaches that you can get where you want if you make the most of what you have. It was just about readable on a smart phone, but probably better on a tablet or in the printed format. I liked it and recommend it.


The Rejected Writer's Book Club by Suzanne Kelman


Rating: WORTHY!

While I haven't had great success with novels which revolve around books or librarians or book shops, I'm inexplicably always optimistic that I will find one, and this sounded interesting. In the end it proved itself a worthy read for which I was grateful (and thankful to the author and publisher for a chance to read this advance review copy)! Certainly it's a brilliant idea to pull in a readership of everyone who dreams of being a writer, or who has had an e-script rejected. Kinda makes me wish I'd thought of it first!

Suzanne Kelman is a fellow blogspotter, although I don't know her, but unfortunately, her blog seems to be nothing more than a promotion of this novel. I don't see any actual blogging going on which was disappointing! Her blog might have made for an interesting read. She's a writer of novels and screenplays, and also a film producer and playwright, so this novel isn't her first rodeo, so to speak. One of the things she also produces is 'blondie and the Brit podcasts' I have no idea what those are about, but they sound like they might be amusing.

I have to disagree with her comment in the acknowledgements: "When I started writing my first novel, I was under some strange illusion that just one person created a book." I've read this same thing from several authors. Those of us who have self-published are living proof that it takes only a dedicated author who is willing to put in the time and make the effort! The fact that we may not (yet!) have created a best seller (or any sales!) doesn't take a thing away from the work we did by ourselves to get this written and cleaned up, formatted, checked, proofed and published. Just one person can indeed create a book these days.

However, I'm reviewing the novel not the author, so here goes! I got into this novel right away, which is always nice. My biggest fear was that this would be yet another novel where an author creates a weird-ass assemblage of quirky characters and tosses them into this like it was a khichari, hoping for something to work without having an actual story to tell. For me, that modus operandi doesn't work and is just annoying, so I admit I felt some trepidation going in, but while there was some of this 'potpourri' business going on, I was glad to find that there was also a story that was worth reading.

Nor was the story confined to quirksville and stuck there: the location changed pretty quickly because it turned into a road trip, which itself had several diversions, so overall it was a fun read. There were joys and oddities, including unexpected ones which I'm sure the writer never had in mind. I loved the character Annie. Not so much Doris, who I really didn't like because she was stridently overbearing. I liked that when I reached Chapter Twenty-Three, my Kindle informed me that there were 23 minutes left in the book! Beautiful symmetry! I'm a big fan of print books (except for their murderous nature on trees), but here was something you don't get with a print book!

It wasn't all plain sailing, though. It seems to me that one thing a writer, especially one who writes about writers, should get right is the difference between' titled' and 'entitled', as in this quote "...entitled A Day Close to God..." While a book is entitled to be read, it is titled whatever the title is. I see this change in meaning more and more often, and with many different words. I guess it's foolish to think anyone can hold back this juggernaut of laxity in literature, though. Language is dynamic, and it has never been more so than it is in this era of tweets and texts.

It bothers me that in tossing every word into the same wash, we're squandering a rich literary heritage by mixing distinctive and colorful words, and bleaching out the fabric of our language, removing its subtle shades and hues. It's the same thing linguistically as we're doing to the planet with pollution and climate change: we're wiping out the unique, and the cute, and quaint, and charming, and above all: important, and the world will be a lesser place for it when we're done raping and pillaging. We need to stand together, keep our nose to the grindstone, our shoulder to the wheel, our backs to the wall, a firm hand on the tiller, and putting our best foot forward, march valiantly to the stirring bugle call of steadfast linguistics, and never lose our sense of direction. Now where was I?

Oh yes. Not plain sailing! My blog is as much about writing as it is about reading, so I tend to pick up on writerly things in novels whether it's a great turn of phrase or a weird one. There was the occasional oddity in phrasing here and there, or odd juxtapositions and so on. It was nothing major, but it was stuff which occasionally took me out of my immersion and made me realize I was reading. I think from a writer's PoV, it's worth looking at some of these and giving some thought to how me might have dealt with the same text.

At one point I read that a person "...was up and down like a whore's drawers." This for me was too much. It was out of place in the context of the story and I thought it was entirely unnecessary. It's not very kind to sex workers, either. If the novel had been a raunchy one, or one about rough and ready people, then it wouldn't have seemed so out of place, but it didn't belong here in this story. It would have been so easy to find a more appropriate substitute.

Another instance of a lesser nature was when I read: "bubbling brook." I'm very familiar with "babbling brook", but bubbling? Not so much! Maybe it's just me. Another instance was when I read, "These drugs were making me into a perfect floozy." Now a floozy is a loose woman, so this really didn't fit with the context since the character wasn't behaving loosely or immorally. She was simply out of it because of a pill she'd taken to calm her nerves about flying. "These drugs were making me woozy" would have made sense.

At one point I read of a character saying that she "...would appreciate it if it never, ever leaves this room...", 'it' being her secret past, but right after that I read, "...I will honor someone, someone who meant a great deal to me, someone I should have honored a long time ago before now." This struck me as odd - how is keeping it secret honoring him? I can see that if a Navy Seal earns a medal you don't want to go public with it and reveal their identity, but typically honoring someone means broadcasting what they're done so people actually can honor them. This felt like a contradiction, but it's no big deal. It's not going to destroy an otherwise worthy read, but this kind of thing is worth some thought if you're a writer.

At another point I read about Doris (yes, that Doris), one of the group of rejected writers who is a BBW. She was moving down an aisle and I read that "nothing stood a chance in her wake." that seemed to me to be, wait for it, ass-backwards! If she's moving through people like a snowplow, then surely it's what's ahead of her which stands little chance - the opposite of wake? On a related topic there was an issue of how many seats a passenger airplane has in a row. I read about four people sitting together, but one had a window seat. I may be wrong, since I'm far from an expert on air travel, but I'm unaware of any airplane which has four seats in a row together where one of the seats is a window seat. The four seat configurations (or the new five-seat configuration for the Airbus) are all in the middle of the plane, with only two or three seat grouped by the windows, and four seats are rare on inter-state flights. You usually only get them on the large jetliner trans-Atlantic or trans-Pacific flights.

Again, this isn't a deal-breaker for me. We writers are supposed to write what we know, but I reject that nonsense. Did Bram Stoker actually take on a vampire? I doubt it! Did Mary Shelley create a living being from dead parts? Only in a literary sense. Did Suzanne Collins actually fight in a Hunger games in a dystopian future? No! It would be a sorry literary world if we wrote only what we know. We write what we're passionate about (if we're smart), and the hell with what we know, but that said, it can carry and expensive price-tag if we don't get it right.

In this case though, I wasn't going to let any of the above (or wondering how it was that Mary didn't know that her best friend couldn't swim), bother me or make me feel this book didn't deserve a worthy rating, because overall it was a great read. It drew me in and kept me interested, and that's all I ask for from a writer. I've always said you can get away with a lot with me if you tell me a good story, and this author didn't have to get away with a lot because the issues were few and minor. It was a good story, and I recommend it.


Saturday, April 2, 2016

Helen Keller by Jane Sutcliffe


Rating: WORTHY!

I had no idea I had such a backlog of reviews to post. That's what happens when you get focused on writing and nothing else save for some reading here and there! So many of them are negative, too, which is sad, so it's nice to be able to post this last one of the backlog, and get caught up with a positive one.

I saw this in the library and thought it would make for an informative and interesting read, and I was right for once. Helen Keller was born about as regular and normal a child as you can get, although rather more privileged than many people in her time. Before the age of two, however, this all changed. She contracted some indeterminate illness which had the effect of rendering her both deaf and blind. This led to a life of acute frustration and anger for her until, through Alexander Graham Bell of all people, she learned to communicate. It was Bell who indirectly put her in touch with brilliant and dedicated teacher Johanna "Anne" Sullivan, who finally managed to break through these horrible barriers which had been erected by disease, and make a connection with the child inside the feisty Helen exterior.

Almost from that moment on (there was a certain period of frustration which this book glosses over rather!), Helen turned her life around and became dedicated to learning as much as she could about everything she could. She learned to read Braille and to write and eventually wrote her own life story. She and Anne stayed together for half a century until Anne's death. Anne became blind herself around the age of ten, but she was lucky enough that there was surgery to correct some of her problems, so she was with sight at the age of twenty when she came to work with Helen.

This short book with text and pictures is an ideal introduction for young children to these remarkable women. I enjoyed it and I can't imagine any child who wouldn't. I recommend it.


Awaken Me Darkly by Gena Showalter


Rating: WARTY!

I have no idea what that title means. It's nonsensical. Wake me without turning on the light? Wake me with a shocking revelation? That's what the blurb promises, but the blurbs always promise that, and it never is. Blurb writers are morons. This audiobook was read in the kind of purring chocolate voice that sounds intriguing to begin with, but runs a severe risk of becoming cloying, irritating, even nauseating with too much exposure. And it did.

Listening to an audiobook isn't like meeting someone at a function or a party, where you have a conversation with them and can move on at any time. In an audiobook, you're stuck with them for the duration! There is no conversation. You're lectured and expected to like it. The reading in this case was done by Justine Eyre. I had no idea who she was, and the impression I got was that she was a lot older than the character. Since this is told in first person, this seemed wrong to me. Later I learned that she is, very roughly, the same age as the character, but she still seems wrong for this voice. She eyred! The voice sounds too old and nowhere near appropriate to the character as depicted in the novel. It's not enough street for my taste, so the character, as read by Eyre, came off as inauthentic to me.

When you're reading a novel for yourself, you have the choice to picture the characters however you want, but when this is taken from you by a reader in an audio book, it can be a spark of life or a kiss of death. In this case I tried not to be lured to either extreme and just let this voice go by me. It wasn't easy! I am no fan of first person PoV and I cannot understand why so many authors are so compulsively addicted to it. Some writers can make it work in some cases, but for me it's too much "me" from the character: "Hey, lookit me! Look, I'm looking in a mirror and describing myself for you! Aren't I wonderful? Lookit what I'm doing now. Pay attention only to meeeeee! I own you!" Yuk!

Anyway, let's look at the plot, which makes little sense, but this is what we have to work with. At some point in the near future, interplanetary portals appear on Earth for no evident reason, allowing through several varieties of alien, all of which seem to be superior to humans. Feeling threatened, the humans fought back - literally - and were pretty much losing when a treaty was struck and an organization to police the aliens was formed. The main character, Mia Snow works for the New Chicago Police Department as an 'alien huntress'. I don't get why it's New Chicago, but this is sci-fi so you have to have the city renamed with the new prefix, right? It's the law! Why she's a 'huntress' rather than a 'hunter' I don't get either. Do women need to be especially labeled to pigeon-hole them as women rather than as people? Gena Showalter seems to think so. Why is she a 'huntress' at all? Why not a detective - or a detectivess in this case? LOL!

The story starts with an alien serial killer. The evidence points to a female Arcadian. Why the alien race is named after residents of the highlands in the middle of the Peloponnese in ancient Greece, I have no idea. I'm guessing Showalter doesn't either. The name just sounds cool, right? The body is a muscular male with dark hair. He's found naked and posed and tied with ribbons - which is why the idiot detectives insist it had to have been a female who did it. No male would ever use a ribbon, right? Genderism and pigeon-holing seems to be the order of the day in this future. "She" is identified as Arcadian by the fact that Arcadians have three hairs to each root as opposed to the single hair per follicle every other species evidently has. Et in Arcadia ego grew three hairs, apparently.

None of this could have been possibly, planted, could it? I'm sorry, but this story started out stupid and got worse. I ditched it DNF and moved on to something much better written and far more entertaining. I cannot recommend this one, and I'm done with this author!


The Giver by Lois Lowry


Rating: WARTY!

I should have known I would not like this book, but when I requested the audio book from the library, I didn't know it was a Newbery winner or I wouldn't have bothered. Medal-winning novels have been very nearly a consistent waste of time for me. I deliberately put them back on the shelf if they have some medal listed on the cover. This one turned out to be no different from nearly all of my previous experiences!

The biggest problem with dystopian novels is the utter lack of rational explanation as to how the world actually became dystopian in the first place. Most dystopian novels simply take it as a given - this is how the world is, and vaguely wave their hand at some tragic past, such as nuclear war, or disease pandemic, but this fails for me because while it explains that the world changed dramatically, it fails to explain why it changed in the way the author depicts it did. The author of the Divergent disaster, for example (who evidently borrowed heavily from this novel), simply took the brain-dead position that "Hey, it's perfectly natural that people would automatically migrate, like sheep, into one of five ridiculous factions, and we're expected to accept that all humans are alike, all conform readily, there's only one rebel, and no one else ever questions anything. That's major BS right there. Humans are not like that and it's an insult to the human race to suggest that everyone is.

In this novel, which is part of a connected series I'm sorry to say, everyone lives in supposed communist conformity, and children are assigned at age twelve into one of a limited number of assignments which last a lifetime. No one complains, no one rebels, and those who feel they don't fit will request to be forced into "release" - which is that they're murdered. Sorry but this won't work. It doesn't even make any sense.

In this world, all pain and hunger and suffering are taken away, but the "price" for this is the loss of music, art, and other human expressions of joy, such as love? Nonsense! They can't even see - or at least don't even know - what colors are? Seriously? It doesn't work in such a literal black and white manner, and it's not so much naïve to believe it would, as it's profoundly ignorant on the part of an author to even think that it does and that we as readers, would swallow this crap.

Perhaps a better writer might have made this work, but this author fails because the writing is utterly boring. It's so boring in fact that the audio book creators felt the dire need to inject irritating, jarring, monotonous musical interludes randomly into the text. Where those in the original novel? Did you open page 55 and suddenly a piano trilled forth? I seriously doubt it. So what is on the unimaginative brains of these imbeciles that - in a story where music is banned - a mind-numbingly mediocre musical measure or two are injected over the narration? You can't get that dumb naturally. You actually have to really want it and fight for it, to get it as chronic as these guys had it.

But even without that pain in the eardrum, even had I been reading it, I would have found myself skipping over paragraph after paragraph because it wasn't remotely interesting. Did I really want to listen to, in the space of four short paragraphs:

And today, now that the new Elevens had been advanced this morning, there were two Eleven-nineteens...Very soon he would not be an Eleven but a Twelve...Asher was a four, and sat now in the row ahead of Jonas. He would receive his Assignment fourth....Fiona, Eighteen, was on his left; on his other side sat Twenty...

I'd rather listen to paint drying. It's much more restful. I'm sorry but I can't get into a novel that plods the way this one does, with nothing happening save for one long info-dump of a set-up which occupied over half the story. Yes the novel - novella, whatever - is short, but it's still way too long for my taste. Any hopeful young writer who came out with this garbage as a first effort today would rightly have it rejected, yet it won a medal? For what?! The music?! It just goes to show how utterly worthless a Newbery is. I can't recommend it based on what I listened to, which was far too much. A real dystopian society would make you listen to books like this.


Magisterium by Jeff Hirsch


Rating: WARTY!

This audio book, poorly read by Julia Whelan, failed to get my attention despite my twice trying to get with it. It simply wasn't interesting, and the story made no sense. It wasn't even that original - it's another we v. they story, in this case scientists (The Colloquium) v. magicians (The unoriginally named 'Magisterium'), but the scientists, as represented by main female character, 16-year-old Glenn Morgan were so caricatured that they weren't even remotely realistic. The author would have us swallow the idiotic creationist position that science is blind and dogmatic and interested only in preserving the status quo, whereas the Magisterium is open to intuitive learning, which is nonsensical in real life. You can't "know" anything - not in any meaningful sense - without a scientific approach. You can blindly believe, and you can think you know, and you can fool yourself into 'knowing', but you can't really know.

In any story where magic is permitted, you're automatically throwing out the rulebook, which is why writers of such stories have to come up with rather arbitrary rules which the magicians have to follow, and unless they're done well, it fails. Usually there is no cost attached to performing magic in these stories, but then again it's magic, so why would there be? On the other hand, if there's no cost, then anyone can do anything and your story lacks any imperative, risk, or danger. There was no magic performed in the portion of the story to which I listened, so I can't speak to that here. I can only say it was boring to me, so I DNF'd it and moved onto something which turned out to be much more entertaining. Life's too short, y'know?!


Priceless by Nicole Richie


Rating: WARTY!

In which a spoiled-rotten rich kid discovers that her father is a crook and she's tossed out of house and home, losing everything except a few thousand dollars she can get from pawning her mom's jewelry. But she falls squarely on her feet anyway. I was hoping to be entertained by this because yes, it's that Nicole Ritchie, who has been there and done that in terms of living a spoiled brat's life. I thought she might bring some authenticity and realism to the story, but in the end all she delivered was exactly what every other author who writes in this genre delivers: a snotty spoiled-brat main character who is shallow and stupid, who falls into one lucky situation after another, who inevitably finds romance, and who learns nothing, grows none, and changes her perspective not a whit.

I have to say I really kind of expected that shallowness, but I was curious as to how a writer who had been there and done that would depict that life as opposed to a writer who really had no idea and was just wishful thinking, and dropping fashion names at every turn out of pure pretension. It turns out that Ritchie is just dropping fashion names at every turn, so there's no difference! I'd thought that maybe someone who was used to having that stuff around them would be less obsessed with it, but that's evidently not the case.

I thought maybe she might offer a better or more realistic perspective too, but she's just as shallow and blinkered as every other writer on these topics. It's really sad, because on the back cover there's this gorgeous soulful portrait of the author, yet underneath that pretty veneer is the most disappointing underbelly imaginable. It's such a contrast.

Despite the fact that her father stole the savings of thousands of people, this character in the novel is more interested in going shopping than in having any real concern about it, let alone in actually trying to do anything about it. Plus the SEC guy is falling in lust with her and she with him. For about half the novel it was interesting in some regards, although less than I'd hoped for, and in the end it was less and less the more I read. I ditched it as a DNF and I cannot recommend it. I'm done reading anything by Nicole Ritchie.


The Obsidian Blade by Pete Hautman


Rating: WARTY!

Read by Joshua Swanson, who doesn't do a bad job, this library audio book started out very intriguingly. I found myself wondering how useful obsidian would be for a blade. It's a material rather like glass, and so is readily shattered, but there are finds of obsidian being used historically for arrow heads. It can be chipped to a very sharp edge, so maybe an obsidian blade isn't such a stretch.

I have to say that the story caught my interest right off the bat. This kid Tucker is out in the yard and his father, who is a man of the church, is on the roof fixing a broken shingle. When Tucker hears a cry, he runs out thinking his dad fell off the roof, but dad is nowhere to be seen. What Tucker does see is what appears to be a shimmering disk hovering at the edge of the roof. Hmm!

His dad shows up later with a young girl in tow, whom he says he found in town. He denies all Tucker's suggestions that he fell off the roof, which is odd to Tucker, who is used to telling lies to get himself out of trouble, but who isn't used to his dad doing the same thing. Dad says that the girl, Lahlia is in need of adoption, but she seems rather strange and doesn't talk other than to say Tucker's name. His dad has also bizarrely lost his faith, now no longer believing there is a God. It turns out that Tucker's mom was also adopted, and it seems pretty obvious from the start that that both she and Lahlia, the new girl, come from a parallel dimension, which means that Tucker is half from this dimension and half from the other. Okay, I'm hooked!

So far so good, but the novel began to go downhill, and I had a few questions. Take the girl's name, for example. If she isn't talking, then how does anyone know her name, much less the spelling of it? I actually didn't know the spelling myself, which is one problem with audio books, but why is it Lahlia, instead of say, Laleah? Did she write it down for them?! The way the reader pronounces it makes it seem much more like the latter than the former to me. Obviously it's that way because the author chose it to be that way, but this is a writing issue worthy of some consideration for budding authors. To me, names are important in fiction.

Talking of writing issues, there was another curious one. When Tucker's parents disappear with an oddly uninformative note (obviously they've gone back to the other parallel world from which Tucker's mom hailed, but he doesn't know this and takes a tedious amount of time to figure out), Tucker learns that his uncle, who is known as Kosh, will take care of him in their absence. Shortly after they meet, I read this sentence: "He walked towards Tucker, stopped about eight feet away, and peered at him closely." I am trying to figure out how you peer at someone closely from eight feet away. I think I know what the writer was trying to convey, but to me he did it in a poor way. Just a thought from a writing perspective! Plus this 'initial' meeting makes little sense given what's coming later.

That "peering" reminded me of a character from the TV show, Heroes and the subsequent miniseries, which evidently failed to launch successfully. Character Matt Parkman can read minds, but the actor's portrayal of this made me laugh. When he was trying to catch someone's thoughts, he would frown and cock his head and push his head forwards, and it just looked ridiculous to me - as ridiculous as the head twist the 'wesen' characters do when changing faces in the TV show Grimm, which I think looks equally ridiculous, although I love that show. I call it the Sergeant Wu show because he's the most entertaining character in it, talking of facial expressions. But I digress! I imagined this Matt Parkman act when I read that sentence about Kosh, so it made me laugh too. This was probably not the effect the author was seeking!

These shimmering disks or lenses of air show up wherever Tucker goes, which seems to me to be too much unless he is somehow causing, triggering, or attracting them. That was a possibility, so I let that ride, but the first time Tucker travels through one, he ends up atop one of the twin towers in New York city right before the first jetliner hits. What are the odds of that? I have to say I have little time for uninventive time-travel stories which have their characters arrive at critical points in history (typically US history for US stories, and so on) or have them meet famous and influential characters. What are the odds of that? It seems to me to be a lazy way to write such a novels - picking an easy target rather than doing the work of writing a more realistic and more creative story with unknowns from history.

Worse than this though was how Tucker came to be there. How did the wormhole (or whatever it is), link the top of his uncle's barn to the top of the WTC? He was nowhere near NYC geographically, and nowhere near the elevation of the towers vertically, so how did this work? And why were the disks always up in the air - and conveniently next to a roof? Why were the spiritual beings known as Klaatu? Was that short for Klaatu barada nikto?! Maybe an explanation would be forthcoming. I had to keep on listening to find out, but I soon grew tired of unanswered questions and nonsensical rambling about the Klaatu and the wormholes. The story made less sense as it went on, rather than more sense, and I ditched it after a while as a DNF because I couldn't stand to listen to any more. I can't recommend this one. And I never did find out what the obsidian blade had to do with anything - doubtlessly because I dropped this one. Worse, though, is that this is a series, and I'm not a fan of series, especially not ones which start out so badly!


Where Silence Gathers by Kelsey Sutton


Rating: WARTY!

This is a curious novel wherein the main character, Alexandra, can see emotions/impulses as physical beings which manifest mostly as white men for reasons unknown. This seemed rather racist to me. It's a companion novel to an earlier one set in the same world, but with different characters. I have not read the previous volume.

Alexandra's almost constant companion and pseudo-best friend for many years has been one named Revenge, who has been with her ever since her family was killed by a drunk driver. When Revenge tells her that Nate Foster has been released from jail for good behavior, she takes the gun she knows her uncle keeps hidden, and sets out for Nate's home, but she only spies on him through a window. She doesn't act. She does see a new emotion there, but cannot identify it, and she leaves. Are these things all really emotions? That's how they're described in the novel, but there is quite a variety, most of whom spend very little time with Alexandra. They seem more like fleeting impulses to me!

Anyway, when she returns the next night, Nate isn't home, and his wife is crying in the kitchen. This is when Alexandra meets the new emotion face-to-face and discovers that it's Forgiveness. She also learns that her father could apparently see these characters in the same way that she can. She had never known this before. Her life has been on a downhill spiral, and no one, not her aunt and uncle, not her two best friends in high school, nor anyone else seems to have any clue where her head is at, but now, with this new information, maybe she can turn herself around? Who cares, really? She was an obnoxious, self-obsessed, whiny-ass brat, and I sure didn't.

One thing which made little sense to me was the almost constant companionship which Revenge provided. There is supposedly only one of each emotion (at least from what I saw), and they arrive fleetingly when needed and disappear afterwards, so how come Revenge gets to spend so much time with her? Was he not needed anywhere else in the world? Maybe they have only white revenge in the US, but in Africa there is black revenge, or maybe one for each nation? One for each race? The novel never makes this clear. Maybe it's covered in the first volume. I really don't care that much.

I came across a writing issue here - obscure text. At one point I read, "I refuse to let how much his presence affects me show." It was so curious I had to read it twice more before I fully grasped what it was saying. Wouldn't it have been better to write, "I refuse to let show how much his presence affects me"? One simple change and it improves readability immensely. At least to me it does. This is the value of good editing, which is all on you if you're self-publishing. It's a big burden to carry.

The writing, though, wasn't the real problem, not from a technical PoV. The real problem was the unending tedium of listening to the main character's obsessive-compulsive wallowing, which made me detest her. I ditched this novel as a DNF. I can't recommend it and I'm done with this author.


Interworld by Neil Gaiman, Michael Reeves


Rating: WARTY!

I'd like to like Neil Gaiman. I loved the Doctor Who episode he wrote a couple of seasons back, and I really liked his novel Stardust, and I liked his Underwhere graphic novel, but ever since those, it seems that he's determined to thwart my every effort to like what he writes. A few days ago I read a The Sandman Overture graphic novel and thought it was a nasty mess. I decided to try again with this middle-grade audiobook and I thought, finally, I'd found something I could listen to, but after enjoying the opening chapters, the novel went the same way that Sandman had: sideways, but in this case literally. It then devolved into nonsense and became just annoying. Maybe middle-graders will like this gobbledygook, but it sure doesn't leave anything but distaste in my reading mouth. I can't imagine my own kids finding it entertaining.

I say reading, but I mean listening since this was an audiobook, and to be fair ('cos I'm normally as unfair as I can get!), Christopher Evan Welch didn't do too bad of a job reading it. The story is about a kid named Joey. He makes a big deal about his lack of any sense of direction, which is not only irrelevant to the story, but it makes him look like a moron who doesn't even know where the sun rises. I don't know why any writer would do that to their main character.

The novel is first person PoV, which is sucky, and the authors admit how limiting it is by having "interlogs" told by another party. It's a clunker. Tell it in third and be done with it instead of performing these ridiculous acrobatics, for god's sakes. Get a clue.

Joey ends up wandering in a fog and no, it's not a metaphor. He comes out in a parallel world where his own mom, who has no son named Joey, but instead, a daughter named Josephine live. He's rescued from his ridiculously prolonged confusion by a guy named 'J', which is evidently 'Jay' - it's impossible to tell in an audiobook. In fact, everyone he meets thereafter - on the good guys side - seems to have a name beginning with a 'J'. No idea why. It was at this point that the story went downhill for me and never recovered.

Apparently there is an infinity of worlds which range on a scale from scientifically inclined at one end, which are inexplicably named binary worlds, and magically-inclined at the other end, inexplicably named HEX worlds. Earth - Joey's Earth that is - is of course in the middle. Despite this veritable plethora of worlds, there is a battle for control of them between various forces, and the "walkers" are charged with keeping a balance between them. Why? No idea. But you know there always has to be a balance even in a universe where the laws of physics are suspended, right? Because, well, it's the law. Either that or authors are either too dumb or lazy to think up something new and original. I'm sorry but no. None of this made any sense, and Gaiman's obsessive addiction to describing mathematical concepts in the Interworld, larding it up with geometrical ideas and paradoxes was just boring, and that's all it was. Like I said, maybe some middle graders will be mesmerized, but I was yawning. This was a DNF and I cannot recommend it.


The Sandman Overture by Neil Gaiman


Rating: WARTY!

Illustrated weirdly by JH Williams the 3rd, the graphic novel failed to launch. The story made zero sense and the artwork was lousy. I trudged through about fifty percent of it and then asked myself why, and dropped it right back into the library return bin. It was ugly and unintelligible. This is one of two Gaiman reviews I am posting, and both are negative. As I said in my review for Interworld, I'd like to like Neil Gaiman. I loved the Doctor Who episode he wrote a couple of seasons back, and I really liked his novel Stardust, and I liked his Underwhere graphic novel, but ever since those, it seems that he's determined to thwart my every effort to like what he writes! I'm done with him and I can't recommend this at all.


Spellcheckers by James S Rich


Rating: WORTHY!

With decent line-drawing art by Nicolas Hittori De, this small format graphic novel entertained me sufficiently to call it a worthy read. The story is about these bad-ass femmes in school who have zero respect for anything and an awesome line of wise-cracks. I laughed out loud and often as I watched them effortlessly take on two guys who were causing trouble at the school.

The only oddball point was the art by Joëlle Jones. She did the cover and flashbacks in the interior, and her cover picture of the three main characters bore no relationship whatsoever to the ones actually in the story. I know there is room for variation between artists, but in this case they were very effectively different characters. They looked much older and less rough-around-the -edges, so it felt a bit like bait and switch - or in the case jailbait and switch judged by the apparent age discrepancy! If I had seen a cover illustration indicative of the characters inside the comic, I might not have opened it to see what the story was like, because it would have felt like I was looking at a story aimed at a much younger audience, and I would have missed this story then!

As it happened, I was very intrigued by the title, and I was able to look inside and read a small portion of it, so I knew what was coming and I approved, and bought it. It just seemed a bit odd to me, is all. It felt like picking up a comic which sported an illustration of Batman on the cover, and then finding out it was really about the young Bruce Wayne before he ever became Batman, or picking up a Justice League volume only to find the interior is really about the teen Titans! Just so's you know! Other than that I rated this well-worth reading.


Pattern Recognition by William Gibson


Rating: WARTY!

I fell in love with William Gibson after I read Neuromancer, but from that point on, he's been a bit of a disappointment. One or two of his books I've read since then have been entertaining, but none of them have blown me away like Neuromancer did or made me want to read them again later, and several of them have been real disappointments, including this one, which I DNF'd because it was so boring and so obsessed with product placement and rambling asides. I can't tell you what it's about (read the blurb!). I can tell you it was an awful read and I'm done with Gibson now.

The reading of the audiobook by Shelly Fraser didn't help. That was drab and lifeless enough as it was, but it was the story itself that was at fault. It dimply did not move. It rambled into endless asides with Gibson seemingly more interested in describing consumerism than actually getting on with the story he was purporting to tell, which evidently revolved around the anonymous positing of small snatches of video online. The video wasn't even described - not in the portion which I could stand to listen to, except in very brief terms, so I had no idea what was in the clips, and this was another issue. If you're going to write about them, at least have the courtesy to tell your reader/listener what's in them so we know as much as the main character does! I can't recommend this one. Not at all.


Sister of Mine by Sabra Waldfogel


Rating: WORTHY!

Originally published as Slave and Sister, this novel is set in the 1850's and 1860's in Cassville in the northwest corner of Georgia - the very route Sherman's army took on its march south in 1864. I'm not a fan of stories about the civil war at all, but this one wasn't really about that. That was more of a backdrop to the second half of the story, and it didn't intrude so much that it turned me off the story.

I was intrigued by the fact that the blurb really told the end of the story, which book blurbs almost never do! Of course it was not quite the very end, but it certainly wasn't the start of the story, either. This was a curious thing to me because I can't remember seeing that before on a novel's back cover (so to speak), although I may have. Just be warned it's a bit of spoiler because it takes a long time to get to that part of the story (some 75% of the way through, give or take). Even though I knew where this was going - and kept wondering when it would happen! - the story was still engaging enough for me that it wasn't an issue. it did feel a little bit like a bait and switch, because I'd been expecting one kind of a story and got another one, but the story I got was fine.

The story explores the relationship between two step-sisters, one a slave, the other the daughter of her owner. It's a complex story which moves very slowly, be warned. It seemed like it took me forever to get through it, but the story always offered something to keep me going and hold my interest. Be warned also that there's a lot of tell and very little show, so that it felt a bit clunky here and there, such as in the repeated comparison of the slavery experience of the Hebrews under the Egyptians in Biblical times, with the Jewish ownership of slaves here and now (in the 1850s), but that aside, I really liked the story and the characters, even when they were, at times, obnoxious.

For a novel about racism, there seemed to me to be a touch of racism in how the characters were depicted. None of the slaves had any really objectionable qualities. That is to say that they were pretty much all consistently good people with good hearts, whereas the white folks were depicted as money-grubbing and filled with disdain, cruelty, and brutality. The only two exceptions to this were Adelaide Mannheim, the oddly named daughter of an observant and practicing Jewish couple (Adelaide isn't a Hebrew name), and Henry Kaltenbach, the Jewish-German immigrant who Adelaide eventually marries. This seemed rather self-serving. Yes, these people were slave owners and had most no respect for the African Americans who were quite literally their property, but all of the white folks were all bad all the time and none of the African Americans had any real bad qualities? That strained credibility for me.

The rest of the story was good and engrossing enough though, that I was willing to let those problems slide. I liked that it did not flinch from telling history as it was (and as far as I can tell, the author got the history right: at least as right as it needed to be in a work of fiction). She didn't shy away from using painful words and concepts to tell it, and I appreciated that. I loved the ever-changing relationship between Adelaide and Rachel, who had been her personal slave since she was twelve. Adelaide's father Mordecai was also complex, if rather stereotypical in his love of money, take note. He was strongly contrasted with Henry, who was a sensitive man and had conflicted feelings about owning slaves.

Conflict is at the heart of this story - with Rachel and Adelaide having an awesomely conflicted relationship, especially when feelings of jealousy and betrayal start to enter into it, and they neither of them seem to be able to live with or without the other, but you can never forget that in their own way, they do love each other as sisters. Henry is in conflict with Mordecai over the huge debt which Adelaide's father has lured him into, and over how to treat slaves and looming over all of this later, is the North and South, which eventually come into conflict over slave ownership.

One thing I got to thinking about was early in the story when Rachel is hurt by being called a "nigger". Nowadays, and for many decades, this has been an evil word to use, and it is hurtful and mean, but as far as I know, it's only since the early to mid-twentieth century that it's really been seen, used, and felt as such a god-awfully bad word as it's viewed today. There's no way any of us can know short of someone inventing a time machine, but I couldn't help but wonder if this was true - if African Americans really were hurt by the use of this word back then, or if they really paid no mind to it than they did "Negroes" or than, for example, servants did from being referred to as "servants". Did the slave owners really mean anything hurtful or mean by it, or was it perceived by them as really nothing more than a convenient word to describe property (which was bad enough), but which was neither used, nor intended, nor felt as the acute abuse it clearly is today, and has been for some considerable time?

There's no reliable way to know, but it got me thinking about it because mindsets on both sides of that divide were so different back then - a century and a half ago. It doesn't make it any more right than it is now of course, but was it perceived back then as nothing more than a label, or is the author right that people were hurt by it as they would be now? Maybe there's more reading I can do - not of fiction, but of historical factual works - which might enlighten me on this score, but that was such a horrible time in history that it's actually painful to read those things. This novel did give me an idea for a novel of my own, however, so I guess I'm going to have to do some more reading! The author discusses further reading in a section at the end of the novel.

Talking of whom, Sabra is the Hebrew name for a prickly pear, and it's also applied to any Jew who is born on Israeli territory - an endearment or a statement of how tough and rooted they are, and this author tells a prickly story which in my opinion is well worth the reading. I recommend this.


Monday, March 21, 2016

Closer Home by Kerry Anne King


Rating: WARTY!

I got this novel from Net Galley as an ARC, and I was grateful, because it sounded good from the blurb, but this is the problem: many do, few are. This one was not, which saddened me, because it started out really well and had too good of a premise for it to fall apart as it did. One of the main problems, in addition to it being too 'one note' (especially for a story rooted in music!), was that the the two main characters, a woman and her niece, started out as reasonably smart people who unfortunately proceeded to get ever more dumb as the story progressed.

It's hard to explain this without giving away spoilers, which I'd rather not do. I don't mind a story where someone who starts out dumb, or naïve or ignorant - however you want to characterize it - improves over the course of the story. I don't even mind a character who stays dumb throughout the story if they're interesting or amusing, but when it goes the other way, and they just get dumber, it's like fingernails on a chalkboard to me. Women already have enough to deal with without being characterized like this, inadvertently or otherwise, in one novel after another.

Let me try and give one example without giving too much away. At one point the women are dealing with a sleazy used-car salesman (talk about cliché), and he recognizes who they are and starts effectively blackmailing (or bullying if you prefer) them in return for what they want. Lise is actually at the point of negotiating to buy a useless wreck of a car from him because they need something that's in the car, rather than simply walk away and then return at night and take it! I hasten to add that it's nothing that anyone would miss the next day - or even notice it was missing - and it has no absolutely zero value to anyone but Ariel.

I wouldn't even characterize this particular thing as stealing at all, and anyone who didn't have a rusted fuel pump for a heart would have let Ariel have it. Yet despite this and despite everything they've actually done so far, it never occurs to a one of them to sneak back that night. This was not only out of character, it was a complete betrayal of the characters, and for me it spoke direly against the competence of this woman who was supposed to be managing Callie's millions. If she can't even manage something like this, of what use is she? That's the point at which I quit reading, because I was so disappointed in these characters for whom I'd had such high hopes as the novel began.

The story here is that Lise is the older sister of Callie, and there is a rift between them which was for good reason and which never healed. Now it's too late because Callie, who became a popular country music star, is dead and Lise is named very nearly a sole beneficiary of Callie's will and also guardian of her niece, Ariel, whom she hasn't even seen for a decade or so.

Right from the start, this whole charade show is a disaster for Lise, because of the ridiculous publicity surrounding Callie's death, the farce of a funeral, and the psychotic money-grubbing by all and sundry. Rather than deal with this, Lise runs away, following Ariel who is desperate to discover who her real father is. The sad thing is that it's pretty obvious almost from the start: both who he is and how this will end, so there's really no suspense here, which brings us to the one note: one town after another, one lowlife high-school boyfriend after another, one paternity test after another, and while there is some variety, there's nowhere near enough to stop this from falling into a rut.

One writing issue I noticed was in the main character balking at hotel coffee, and then I read, "...then I ease out of the room in search of a hotel coffee kiosk, hoping against hope it will be open at this hour...". I wasn't sure what to make of this! First we get the 'cops-in-the-donut-shop' cliché that all hotel coffee is universally bad, but as soon as we learn this, we discover that she's going off in search of a coffee kiosk. What guarantee is there that this will be better? Why not go off in search of a starbucks or some other venue that promises to be better? Why not go to the store and buy your favorite brand if the hotel coffee is so bad? Why not step out of the rut altogether and have the hotel coffee be great? This made little sense to me, and it's not a big issue, but it's one more thing to consider when you're telling a story.

I didn't like any of these characters after the first few chapters, least of all Callie who I never did like. The two main ones began as likable, at least the aunt and niece did, but Lise's constant whiny attitude and litany of complains coupled with and Ariel's endless moodiness and bitchiness wore thin after very little time. Given how alienated both women were from Callie each in their own way, their tidal and maudlin grief had no more foundation than do the sands under rolling breakers, and so I found no authenticity here. It felt like they were simulating grieving rather than actually grieving.

The novel is told in first person, which I dislike because it's rarely done well, it has appalling limitations, and it's downright annoying. The limitation of this method, with which far too many writers are mysteriously obsessed, is demonstrated handsomely here when, every few chapters, we hear the discordant clunk of a third person PoV being dropped. It didn't work. Almost worse than this, there were flashbacks galore, which didn't work for me either, and I took to skipping them in short order. By the time I was fifty percent into this I realized that I wasn't into this at all, and I gave up on it.

Talking of discordance, I think the very saddest thing of all about this novel is that it was about the aftermath of the death of a music star. Her daughter was in her teens and no doubt was very much into music, and her estranged sister was a music teacher, but the story had no music in it - and no soul. There was nothing even related to music save for some sparsely scattered partial lyrics in one or two places. For a novel which was rooted in music, I was expecting much more and it wasn't there. I'm not even a country music fan - which brings me to the next problem: the publicity which Callie's death garnered.

I can see a major country music star making big headlines outside of the country music world, but I didn't get the impression from the novel that Callie was quite that big. She was no Carrie Underwood, Shania Twain, Alison Krauss or whatever - not from the way she was described here. Even if she had been, that doesn't automatically mean that everyone, everywhere in the country, no matter where you go, would recognize her daughter, or her absentee sister who had been far from the limelight for ten years. Country music is popular in the US, but it's not run-away-above-everything-else popular, yet now, suddenly, and everywhere they go, someone not only recognizes these people, none of whom are stars, but manages to take an embarrassing picture which makes headlines. It simply wasn't credible.

So it can be no surprise by now that I didn't consider this a worthy read and cannot recommend it. I'm sorry, because the idea was a good one. It just wasn't done well. I think if this had been told from Ariel's PoV (but in third person, please!) and Lise had been left out of it entirely, it might have been a better story. I think this writer has some great novels in her though, and is worth watching.

On that score, I'd recommend she get in touch with Goodreads! If you type 'Closer Home' into the search window and click, it will not find this author's novel. It will find every novel that has 'close to home' in the title, but forget about 'closer home'! That's simply not good enough in my opinion. You have to type the author's name, Kerry Anne King, to get 'closer home' to show, and even then the title lists after "Twelve Years A Slave"! What the hell is up with that?! Amazon brings it to the top of the list if you search for Closer Home in books, and B&N puts it in the second row, but Goodreads can't find it? Goodreads needs a better search engine.


Sunday, March 20, 2016

Cogling by Jordan Elizabeth Mierek


Rating: WARTY!

I was asked by the author if I would review this after I gave a favorable review to a previous novel by this author: Escape From Witchwood Hollow back in February 2016. Well be careful what you ask for! I would have liked to have recommended this one, too, but I cannot. I was very disappointed in Cogling because it was so disturbingly far from what the previous novel had been. This felt like a first draft of a first novel by a new writer, whereas 'Witchwood Hollow', which also felt like a first novel, was a lot better-crafted and a lot more credible in its world than this one was.

This novel had a prologue which I skipped, as I do all prologues without exception. Never once have I missed anything by doing this, which only goes to show how useless prologues are. If it's worth reading, put it in chapter one, or simply omit it! Don't sacrifice any more trees to prologues! That said, this story was not technically bad in terms of spelling, grammar, and so on. Even the overall story was, in very general terms, an interesting idea, but it fell far short in the details, and while it was not an awful read, it was not a satisfying one at all for me.

The issues I had were many and ranged from general to specific. A specific one, for example, would be the use of 'kohl'. At least this author didn't write it as 'coal', which I have seen in a novel, but the phrase used was 'dark kohl' Since kohl is black, that phrase made little sense. To write, 'Kohl darkened her silver eyes' is one thing, but to say "Dark kohl rimmed her silver eyes" is not well-phrased at all. There were many instances of such suspect wording, each of which took me out of the suspension of disbelief and reminded me that I was reading a novel and not immersed in a alternate world.

The story is about Edna, a fifteen year old girl who discovers that her brother has been replaced by a cogling - a clockwork life-like replica, and she embarks upon a quest into the world of hags to rescue him. The hags use the dreams of children to power their machinery. This was my first problem, because it seemed like all that was being done here is that hags stole children to power machines to make more coglings which were used to replace the children being stolen. What was the point? Obviously they were seeking to take over the human world in revenge for a sour past history, but the hags had powerful magical and could control and enchant humans so why were the coglings needed? It made no sense at all to me.

The sad thing is that Edna is not allowed to rescue her brother alone. So much for girl power! Instead, she needs the trope YA studly male to prop her up and give her validation. That was bad enough, but the happenstance that she fell into the sphere of influence of the sole male in the entire country who was best set-up to help her was too much to take seriously, especially given his original story, which would be too much of a spoiler to give away here. The bottom line was that his behavior and living circumstances were simply not credible given his origin, and we were offered nothing to explain why or how he'd ended up where he had.

In this world, there is a history of antagonism between the hags (and their male equivalents, the ogres) on one side, and the humans on the other, and this is a story of the hags' revenge. These were not the only 'magical' creatures; there were others, but none of them were really given any freedom to breathe, and so they were consistently lifeless. It felt like they were simply added as pure MacGuffins or dei ex machina for no other reason than to help out Edna's quest, and then they disappeared completely. Most of them appeared so briefly that it was impossible to get a decent handle on them. I liked the idea of the 'foxkins', but the 'nix' and the 'tomtars' left me unentertained. Sometimes it seemed like these were actually mutated humans, and other times not, and there was so little to go on, that it left me frustrated that they had appeared at all.

I think one serious problem was that the author tried to do too much in one story. There was literally everything in this but the kitchen sink - and there may well have been one of those. In fact, I think there was in one kitchen scene. But there was fantasy, and magic, and steam-punk, and romance, and Oliver Twist (not in person), and a quest, and a hot air balloon which was not steam-punk, but which was called an airship which is often associated with steam-punk, and it felt like lots of little bits rather than one whole. It was the difference between Thanksgiving dinner and the next day's jumbled and assorted leftovers.

This story evidently arose (according to the acknowledgements) at least in part from a 'Victorian' fare in Rome, New York. I think that was the first problem: that Americans tend not to do Renaissance or Victorian well, or to overdo it, and consequently this novel was sadly warped, dragged down by a lack of authenticity. Granted we're not told explicitly where it was set (if we are, I missed it), but it seemed like it was professing to be set in Britain, as steam punk and Victorian dramas typically are, but there were far too many Americanisms for me to take that idea seriously.

For example, there are no klutzes in Britain - or at least there were not in Victorian times. There are clots, which means largely the same thing, but 'klutz' is a very American term which came from Germany via Yiddish, I think. Of course, American influence being what it is in the world, for good or ill, people probably do use that term in Britain now, but they didn't in Victorian times. This was as out of place as the word 'jerky' was. This is very much an Americanism, taken from the South American term char qui. It's not British.

There are very few cities in Britain which actually have the word 'city' in their name. Manchester City, for example, is a football (soccer) club. The city itself is simply named Manchester. The same goes for Birmingham, Exeter, Bristol, Leicester Norwich, and so on. Every single city in this story was named -something- City. The Brits don't have this insecurity which forces them to title a city as -something- City lest it be mistaken - gods forbid! - for a town!

Britain has no venomous snakes except for the adder (and yes, it does come in black!), which no one in Britain takes very seriously (notwithstanding scare stories in newspapers last year), so this Indiana Jones scene where kids are dumped into a pit of snakes wasn't impressive. Why would hags even do this when they have magic and can simply kill the kids outright? The real problem here though, was that the snakes are described as poisonous. No snake, to my knowledge, is poisonous, and by that I mean that you can eat any snake and it won't poison you; however, if you get bitten by one (and you're not in Britain!) then you may well become ill or die from it. Those snakes are venomous, not poisonous, and writers should understand this. Strictly speaking the British adder can do damage, but it's so rare that anyone is bitten, it's not typically an issue.

Edna Mather is supposedly fifteen, yet she behaves much younger. The story read like a middle-grade novel rather than a young-adult one. Several other reviews I've seen mention this and while I agree, I'm not sure I arrived at the conclusion the same way. The thing you have to remember is that this is not set in modern times and you cannot expect a fifteen year old Victorian era girl to have the same outlook as a modern one.

By our standards, she would seem ridiculously naive and sheltered, even though she would (had she any privilege) be far better read (and in better-written literature too!) than most modern fifteen-year-olds. In Edna's case, she was one step away from living on the street, and was largely in charge of running her home and taking care of her kid brother, so she should be expected to have the maturity which inevitably comes with that circumstance, yet she really didn't. She was desperately intent upon rescuing her brother, but this was all she had going for her, and it made her seem more juvenile than he was!

Worse than this though, for me, was the fact that Edna had magic in her - a magic which she thought was evil - a fact of which we're re-apprised to a really annoying degree. The problem for me was not so much that though, as it was that she never employed this magic. I kept waiting for her to go bad-ass and unleash it, but she didn't except in very minor and largely unimportant ways, and even then it wasn't clear if it was her magic or the magic embedded in this enchanted brooch she carried. This was really annoying. Why give her this power if it's not going to be employed in the entire story, even in dire cases where any kid who had magic would have pulled it out regardless of how they felt about it. It made no sense and was a major disappointment for me. It also made her look even more helpless and ineffectual than she already appeared.

I noted the author makes mention in the acknowledgements of a steamy romance between Ike and Edna, but there was no such thing. There was almost no romance, thankfully, and certainly no steam (not even of the steam punk variety except in passing mentions). There was impetus for romance, either. Neither Ike nor Edna were likable, and he was such a jerk to begin with that it's hard to see how she would ever come around to finding him romantic. The 'romance' felt forced and not natural - like the author was putting it in there because she felt this was the way things had to be done, not because there was anything organic or necessary about it. It felt false to me and it didn't so much get in the way of the story, as it was an annoying distraction, like a fly buzzing around when you're trying to fall asleep.

I noticed some reviewers had talked of there being a rape or near rape in this story, but there was nothing of the sort in the version I read. There was a case of highly inappropriate conduct of a doctor threatening to kiss a patient, followed by downright abusive conduct by that same doctor, but there was no sex involved. What bothered me about this scene and the events leading up to it was something I've seen no other reviewer mention, which is the absurd abduction of Lady Rachel.

Note that I do not believe for a second that celebrities and the wealthy should have any privileged treatment by law enforcement, but also note that this novel was set in Victorian times when nobility was highly respected (if perhaps derided in private), yet here we have Lady Rachel being forcibly taken from her aunt's home by two regular police constables, without a shred of respect or deference and based solely on this aunt's say-so. This was simply not credible in Victorian times, and especially not on the say-so of an aunt without any other reason. Never once was there any mention of contacting this woman's actual parents. Lady and Lord Waxman thought their daughter had been kidnapped, and yet instead of informing them she was safe and reuniting them, the cops haul Lady Rachel off for incarceration on her aunt's whim?! This robbed the story of all credibility for me, and frankly, I almost quit reading at that point because it was one straw dog too many.

The real killer was the ending. It's no spoiler to say it was a happily-ever-after one, but only for Edna and her crew. All her ideals and claims and vows to help the poor and downtrodden which she spouted regularly throughout this story were forgotten in the end. She did nothing to help anyone. This selfishness and self-serving attitude was brought into the light earlier, when she and Ike rescue a woman from a cruel psychiatric facility, which in itself is admirable, but they do it by kidnapping a homeless girl and substituting the one for the other in the blind assumption that this psycho doctor will simply toss the girl back out onto the street when he discovers the deception. I'm sorry, but no, heroic people do not do that. Good people do not do that. Jerks and villains do that. I already disliked the two protagonists before this, but after this behavior, I had no time for them at all. Frankly, this made me wonder if this neutered "dark magic' that Edna spent the entire story fretting over, had actually risen up and claimed her after all.

So, overall, this was not a worthy read by my standards. and I cannot in good faith recommend it. Read Jordan Mierek's previous story, escape From Witchwood Hollow instead. It's much better.