Title:Dust

Author: Joan Frances Turner

Genre: Horror, Zombies, Post-Apocalyptic, Speculative Fiction

Publisher: Ace
Publication date: September 7 2010
Hardcover: 384 pages

Nine years ago, Jessie had a family. Now, she has a gang.

Nine years ago, Jessie was a vegetarian. Now, she eats very fresh meat.

Nine years ago, Jessie was in a car crash and died. Nine years ago, Jessie was human.

Now, she’s not.

After she was buried, Jessie awoke and tore through the earth to arise, reborn, as a zombie. Jessie’s gang is the Fly-by-Nights. She loves the ancient, skeletal Florian and his memories of time gone by. She’s in love with Joe, a maggot-infested corpse. They fight, hunt, dance together as one—something humans can never understand. There are dark places humans have learned to avoid, lest they run into the zombie gangs.

But now, Jessie and the Fly-by-Nights have seen new creatures in the woods—things not human and not zombie. A strange new illness has flamed up out of nowhere, causing the undeads to become more alive and the living to exist on the brink of death. As bits and pieces of the truth fall around Jessie, like the flesh off her bones, she’ll have to choose between looking away or staring down the madness—and hanging onto everything she has come to know as life.

Stand alone or series: Stand alone

How did we get this book: Review copies from the publisher

Why did we read this book: Thea loves zombies and Ana has a new found appreciation for the creatures. When we first heard about the book, we both went: WANT.

Review:

First Impressions:

Thea: According to the marketing promo behind Dust, the novel promises to be…different than the average zombie novel. It promises to tell the story of life after death, from the walking dead’s perspective. It promises to make readers question what they know about life and death, through the eyes of a not-so-young heroine, named Jessie. These are a whole lotta promises for a debut novel to deliver, but deliver Dust certainly does. It’s a haunting, elegiac portrait of life after death, of relationships and emotions from the perspective of a character that is no longer human, but not a monster either. Dust is one of those books that gets better the more that I reflect upon it. I loved it. (And, I think that you should listen to me and not Ana, because she is wrong and I am right, and that is all there is to it.)

Ana: I had very much the opposite reaction to the book – the more I reflect upon it, the less I like it. It starts well enough but half way through the book, it loses its steam. The marketing promo, the blurb, the cover of my ARC (a letter from the marketing department) all tell me how different the book is going to be and I think that ultimately it does not deliver on its promise. I think that story-wise it doesn’t work that well and the basic themes of life and death and being human x being a zombie, were extremely heavy-handed. I didn’t like it.

On the plot:

Thea: Dust is the story of Jessie, or Jessica Anne Porter that was, a girl that was fifteen when she was killed in a car accident only to rise days later as a zombie. Fighting her way out of her cement sealed grave under six feet of dirt, Jessie finds refuge of a kind with a gang of other undead, that call themselves the Fly-By-Nights. After taking their brutal initiation of beating, breaking her bones and causing her to retch up a dark mixture of fetid, congealed blood (“Coffin Liquor,” as the zombies call it), Jessie becomes an official member of the gang, and she finally feels at home. Roaming the forest together for deer, possum and other wild prey, Jessie is respected by her fellow gang members as a fighter – even one-armed, as the book opens with Jessie finally losing her right appendage, Jessie is perhaps the fiercest fighter of the group. But then, something strange disturbs Jessie’s comfortable routine. First, there’s the strange blonde “hoo” (zombie slang for human) that stumbles into their woods, so far from the protections of civilization. Disoriented, sweating a strange, non-human, chemical smell, the girl seems like something caught between living and dead – not quite hoo, but not quite zombie either. Then, gang leader Teresa starts acting strangely, smelling eerily like the not-hoo girl from the woods. Something frightening is happening to the undead and living alike, and not a soul will be left untouched.

Well, what can I say about Dust? It is a haunting story that lingers with you long after finishing the novel. It is deeply unsettling, unique, and beautifully written. It is a story that is, more than anything else (and contrary to what Ana will tell you about romance or whatever) about people that have lived, died, and been born again in a cold, cruel world. Yes, they are flesh-hungry, but they aren’t “monsters” – at least, not any more than humans are monsters. From a plotting perspective, Dust is a quiet novel, a loving macabre ode to sinew and blood, of decay and the maggots and blowflies that feed upon the flesh of the dead. But instead of being gratuitous or overly gory for the sake of being gory, Dust is in actuality a beautiful, melancholy book – Ms. Turner manages to make the sight of dusty, parchment-thin skin beautiful, the warm blood and entrails of a fresh kill vibrant and delectable. Dust isn’t a book that aims to shock and disgust; rather, it simply is an honest recording of the life of Jessie and her gang.

Dust also is a mystery of sorts, and a book of discovery and reconciliation. There is the question of the cause and nature of the strange new infection that sweeps the forest, a biological mystery that unfolds beautifully and gradually over the course of the novel. The cause of the apocalyptic bacteria is insignificant though, really, as the more important, underlying theme is not on the macro but micro level – personal guilt, family loyalty and perceived betrayal. Though the idea of the microbe unleashed by humanity ultimately leading to the species’ demise is nothing new, Ms. Turner handles this aspect of the novel beautifully, creating a tempered, well-paced tale that I devoured whole in essentially a few short hours.

On the more technical, zombie-fan sort of stuff, I must say that I loved Ms. Turner’s take on the life cycle of the zombie, as I did the newly imagined method that they communicate with each other, although I will say that certain aspects felt underdeveloped (the strange, literal “danse macabre” and the way they hear thoughts in terms of music – or perhaps only Jessie does this?). Still, I loved their new, superior neuron-firing capable brains, and most of all, their perceived “superiority” to the idiot, stinking hoos. They aren’t superior of course – this is the beauty of Dust, with its flawed characters, laying bare the faults of both humanity and zombie, the difference between the two not so dramatic as one might suspect. I loved that the book doesn’t feel the need to explain everything explicitly, that Ms. Turner makes some unorthodox choices towards the end of the novel, too. And, contrary to the notion that Dust is romantic or some sort of cautionary tale, I will say that, in my opinion, this misses the point of the book. In my opinion, I didn’t find this book romantic at all (certainly not in the conventional, human interpretation of the word) and it certainly is not a factor in anything that Jessie chooses to do – take, for example, Jessie’s last huge decision to walk to the sands. If this were all about true love, wouldn’t she have dragged her true love with her? No. She goes by herself. Very, very late in the book (i’m talking the last 30 pages) there is, I guess, what can be interpreted as a romantic development, but Jessie isn’t exactly a romantic person. I didn’t see this relationship as a romance so much as it is a reunion between people that thought they would never see each other again. But this is all moot, and I don’t even want to spend any more time on this because the book is really not a romance, it’s only a teeny tiny 1% of the overall book, and it’s distracting from the main point:

Dust is above all a deconstruction of the zombie myth.

Instead of using the undead as a catalyst for human ugliness, it instead approaches zombies as people…that have died and been born again. It is their story, through one of their own’s eyes. It is not a cautionary tale about the evils of humanity or the presumptions of science or whatnot; to reduce the complexity of Dust to such an interpretation does the book a grave disservice. I’d liken Dust to a novel such as Kazuo Ishiguro’s Never Let Me Go, which plays on the same human/inhuman blurry areas (but more on that in the character section below).

I will say, however, that Dust is a book that clearly is NOT for everyone. Take the ending, for example (which I think, as a zombie fan, is an homage to a cornerstone of scifi horror) – it’s a risk and understandably, not for everyone. But for me? I loved it.

Ana: Dust has a promising start and I loved the first half of the book: with gore and violence and a wonderful look at how Jessie lives now. I especially liked how zombies are still decaying and will eventually, and very slowly, go through what all dead bodies go through: all the stages of decay but with the different that it happens to the zombies whilst they are conscious. It is in fact the living dead in all their horrifying glory.

But is Dust really that different from the average zombie novel? I don’t think so. Sure, it is from a different perspective ,ie from the living dead themselves but at its core it still deals with fear, love and what it is to be human. THAT’s what bothers me the most about the book – that it promises a world of difference, but that it doesn’t deliver.

I will agree with Thea when she says that Dust is above all a deconstruction of the zombie myth but beyond that, is where we fundamentally disagree. I think that this deconstruction is not well done at all, it is heavy – handed and yes, with an underlying message. I think that the idea that zombies “are just people who died” is hammered over and over again in a less than subtle way. In trying to show the other side’s story, I believe the author did in fact a 360 turn going right back at the starting point – by making them just like humans only with a different diet. The more the story progresses, the more Jessie and her companions sound like humans and when the virus hits they even start to look like humans. Which brings me back to the point I am trying to make: the story to me is not unique, or original; it simply deals with flawed characters who can be as good and bad, as violent or not, as humans are. Perhaps that is actually the point. In which case, it is just another story that doesn’t have anything special to it, at least not for me.

It is also very predictable: I saw the resolution coming a mile away, I saw the identity of one the characters as soon as she walked into the novel and I saw the romantic development between Jessie and another character basically from page 1 and yes, there is romance there although not – I agree with Thea here – central to the story. And although I don’t think that the book is about messages, they are undoubtedly THERE : in what humans are capable of, what science is capable of, what people would do for misguided love. It is so there that at one point Jessie muses:

“typical human and no, I refused to start thinking of myself as one too. “Speaking,” I said, as coldly and calmly as I could muster, “as someone with a little actual afterlife experience? This isn’t hell. There is no hell. It’s just what your kind always do to the world in one form of another, so pull yourself together and keep walking”.

I kept thinking about “identity” and how what really differentiates zombies and humans is simply how each chooses to consume their food: zombies like it raw, humans like it cooked. At first, it seemed to be more than that: it seemed that there was going to be MORE that identified the zombies as separate entities– perhaps their aggressive culture, perhaps their danse macabre – but the former can be put down as another thing that is actually remnants of their humanity and the latter is never truly explored. I think this makes the book less complex and more simplistic, as a matter of fact.

But beyond that: the novel has problems with pacing as well with the second half dragging itself to a conclusion full of navel gazing. With regards to the ending: count me in as one that did not like it, but then again, I am not a horror-sci fi fan and probably failed to see as the homage that it possibly is.

On the characters:

Thea: Dust is one of those books that gets better upon reflection, especially from a character perspective. As with any book filtered through the perspective of a single character, there is a degree of unreliability – and I think that it is important to keep in mind that our narrator, Jessie, is a flawed character that sees what she wants to see, and interprets things in the way she wants to interpret them. Again, the important thing to remember about Dust is that it is a book about the life after death – about people that have lived and died, and have been reborn. As such, Jessie and her ilk experience emotions that are very human and familiar – and yet at the same time, they are not exactly human (which makes sense – if all of our life experiences contribute to how we see things and interpret the world around us, the effect is even more dramatic on those that have been killed and reanimated). And this is the main point of contention between Ana and myself, because Ana thinks that the emotions that Jessie feels are TOO human to be zombie, to which I ask, what then makes a zombie? Must they only be mindless creatures hungering for braaaaaains? And then I would ask, why this hate against the zombie? In other books featuring vampires or fairies or werewolves or angels, they all experience “human” emotions, and those are considered successes or acceptable, but when it’s a zombie this is a failure? It seems hypocritical to me. Zombie discrimination, I tell you! Again, this is Ms. Turner’s deconstruction of the zombie, by making them something other – not human, certainly not, but not so unfamiliar either. Not living, not dead, but something in between.

As a narrator and protagonist, Jessie is a mess of sharp edges, tough attitude, and strangely, vulnerability. Jessie’s narration is by turns funny, astute, and hard. Though she was only fifteen when she died, death and revival have a way of changing a body, both physically and emotionally. Through her memories, we learn about her less-than-ideal human life, and her final ability to find a home only beyond the grave. Her relationship with her gang, especially the tangled, complicated relationship with Joe, is fodder for reflection. Yes, Jessie feels emotions – remorse, love, hate, guilt, although I would argue that her brand of emotion is twisted and if human in origin, no longer exactly human in expression – and over the course of the book she grows and changes as a character, as do the other main characters in the book. And, unlike vampires locked in eternal youth, or zombies in films locked in eternal hunger, Jessie and her crew’s desires for food do not dictate who or what they are. They are not in permanent stasis, as each zombie has a life cycle of its own. When the shit hits the fan later in the book and both zombies and humans begin to change again, mutating from undead to..sort of living again, these emotions and needs morph as well. I think it’s a pretty awesome catalyst for character development, and an original way to take a look at the connection between eating, and (non)humanity.

“How many kinds of living and dead and living dead and dead living had I been in just these few months, these few days, after the stasis of plain old human living and dying? I deserved some kind of existential medal.”

As for the other characters, I thought they were all wonderfully handled and written, in particular ‘maldie Renee (lost and friendless and discriminated against for the fact that she was embalmed), the dustie Florian with his pacifism and insightful senility, the quiet and less aggressive (yet courageous) Linc, and of course, the manipulative, screeching electric guitar that is Joe. If there’s anything that will differentiate the zombie from the human, I think it is apparent in Jessie and Joe’s relationship, in which they crush each other’s bones and fight to the point of threatening each other’s deaths as a normality, but find solace in that rage. It is what by hoo terms we would call an abusive relationship, but our interpretations don’t really apply to the walking dead. Theirs is a tangled mess of hate and trust and love, and while there are glimpses of humanity and these characters (or at least Jessie) has some semblance of right and wrong, the zombie rulebook is completely different from the human one. It is this otherness that makes the deconstruction a success, in my opinion.

I will briefly address what I know Ana will bring up (based on our emails back and forth). I just want to say that I do NOT think the author assigns any moral judgements to her characters, to Jessie’s relationships, or to any aspect of the story. Jessie does have a sense of morality, although it clearly has changed since her time as a human (from a vegan animal rights activist to an animal huntress and zombie killer as one of the most fierce of the gang’s fighters, and in the end, eating anyone and anything – human, plant, inanimate object, friend, enemy – in order to survive). The presence of Jessie’s ability to make decisions based on her own concepts of morality does not equate to a moral message or judgement for the book, however. In my opinion, this just confirms how these biological changes effect the experience and perception of each character in this book. I think that it is important to remember that Dust is a book about what are by definition non-human characters, with vestiges of humanity – they remember who they were, certain things from their lives, and they feel emotions. But it is vital to keep in mind that they are creatures that have died and been reborn, their very brains rewired and reconfigured. They do not think in the same way that we do, as much as a twenty-year old thinks and behaves in the way that an eighty-year old would, and so for that reason their motivations may sit strangely with us hoo readers – but that, I think, is the point. There is no underlying message, no judgement or subtext that says that zombies are GOOD and humans are EVIL or any such nonsense. I urge everyone to please, please, for the love of all that is good in the world of literature, to try to step outside of your comfort zone and view Jessie’s world through the eyes of someone that is neither living nor dead, but someone caught in between.

Ana: What are zombies? I don’t know. They might not be all about braaaaaaaaaiins but I think it is clear that they are not simply “humans who died” either. They are “other”. And this is indeed the greatest point of contention between Thea and me when it comes to the book: I think that the book completely fails in capturing this “otherness” of these characters and fully exploring and developing it. I think that the zombies here are utterly familiar, completely humanised and to me that include human moral judgments as well or else Jessie would not mind eating humans; or else Jessie would not know that there is “right” and “wrong” and that her abusive relationship with Joe for example falls under the latter. That is definitely this awareness here and I honestly don’t see a complete re-wire of their brains. Dust might be a book about non-human characters but still so very human that they still have very human concepts of morality and emotions.

Jessie is very much still human, (even though she will tell you that she is not and I am agreeing on the unreliability of her narrative here), wanting to be loved and accepted which is in direct contrast to what happened to her when she was alive – she was neither loved or accepted when alive. Which is why she fell into the relationship with Joe – not because as a zombie she doesn’t care anymore, or her brain has been re-wired but because of her very human characteristics of wanting to fit in, be accepted. At one point she thinks:

“Even knowing then and later that I should have collected my strength and wits, turned around and left for good, no looking back. I stayed because of him. Like I said, I was fifteen”

and then:

“I hated that look. I hated that I could never even see the sorry part of it anymore, the part that really mattered, all I could see was how it was still always me that was wrong and him that was right. Always. No matter what.”

This reads as though it could apply to anybody. I would have loved to see the “otherness” or a true Zombie 2.0 story. To me, I just read another book of a character that had family issues and carried them to grave and beyond – with a bit of mystery on the side.

Final Thoughts, Observations and Rating:

Thea: Clearly, Dust is not for everyone. At times funny, at times painful, this reimagining of the zombie resonated for me, like the strings of the electric guitar or quiet plink of piano Jessie hears in her undead brain. It’s a strange book, but a memorable one for all that. A notable, if not favorite, read of 2010 for me.

Ana: Definitely not for everyone and above all, definitely not for me. Dust left me completely cold and underwhelmed.

Notable Quotes/Parts: From Chapter 1:

My right arm fell off today. Lucky for me, I’m left-handed.

In the accident that killed me I rocketed from the back seat straight through the windshield–no seatbelt, yeah, I know–and the pavement sheared my arm to nothing below the shoulder. Not torn off, but dangling by thin, precious little bits of skin and bone and ligament. I had a closed casket, I’m sure of it, because they never wired the arm or glued it or any other pretty undertaker trick. I managed to crawl back out of the ground without its help anyway, and of course after nine perfectly uneventful years of fighting and dancing and hunting and getting by fine with the left arm, the right finally shuffles its coil right on the banks of the Great River County Park’s not-so-Great River, smack in the middle of a meat run. Joe, my boy, my backup, was not sympathetic in the least….

You can read the full excerpt online HERE.

Additional Thoughts: Dust has a pretty cool website, complete with extras such as the following book trailers (this one is hilarious, if not really having anything at all to do with the book):

You can see the other trailers HERE.

Rating:

Thea: 8 – Excellent

Ana: 5 – Meh

Reading Next: Dead Beautiful by Yvonne Woon

Giveaway Details:

Courtesy of publisher Ace, we have FIVE copies of Dust up for grabs. The contest is open to addresses in the United States only, and will run until September 4th at 11:59 pm (PST). To enter, leave a comment here telling us what your favorite zombie novel is. Only ONE entry per person, please! Multiple comments from the same I.P. address will be automatically disqualified. Good luck!

Title: The Way of Kings

Author: Brandon Sanderson

Genre: Fantasy

Publisher: Tor
Publication Date: August 2010
Hardcover: 1008 Pages

Roshar is a world of stone and storms. Uncanny tempests of incredible power sweep across the rocky terrain so frequently that they have shaped ecology and civilization alike. Animals hide in shells, trees pull in branches, and grass retracts into the soilless ground. Cities are built only where the topography offers shelter.

It has been centuries since the fall of the ten consecrated orders known as the Knights Radiant, but their Shardblades and Shardplate remain: mystical swords and suits of armor that transform ordinary men into near-invincible warriors. Men trade kingdoms for Shardblades. Wars were fought for them, and won by them.

One such war rages on a ruined landscape called the Shattered Plains. There, Kaladin, who traded his medical apprenticeship for a spear to protect his little brother, has been reduced to slavery. In a war that makes no sense, where ten armies fight separately against a single foe, he struggles to save his men and to fathom the leaders who consider them expendable.

Brightlord Dalinar Kholin commands one of those other armies. Like his brother, the late king, he is fascinated by an ancient text called The Way of Kings. Troubled by over-powering visions of ancient times and the Knights Radiant, he has begun to doubt his own sanity.

Across the ocean, an untried young woman named Shallan seeks to train under an eminent scholar and notorious heretic, Dalinar’s niece, Jasnah. Though she genuinely loves learning, Shallan’s motives are less than pure. As she plans a daring theft, her research for Jasnah hints at secrets of the Knights Radiant and the true cause of the war.

The result of over ten years of planning, writing, and world-building, The Way of Kings is but the opening movement of the Stormlight Archive, a bold masterpiece in the making.

Speak again the ancient oaths,

Life before death.
Strength before weakness.
Journey before Destination.

and return to men the Shards they once bore.

The Knights Radiant must stand again.

Stand alone or series: The first book in The Stormlight Archive, of a planned ten volume series

How did we get this book: Review Copies from the publisher

Why did we read this book: We both discovered Brandon Sanderson last year and fell in love with his Mistborn books, as well as Warbreaker (not to mention, we’ve heard nothing but praise for The Gathering Storm). So, when we learned that the esteemed Mr. Sanderson would be embarking on a brand new epic – a ten volume series! – we of course were ecstatic.

REVIEW

First Impressions:

Thea: Since Brandon Sanderson’s succession of the late Robert Jordan (to say nothing of his successes with Elantris, the Mistborn trilogy and Warbreaker), it’s to be expected that The Way of Kings would receive is a book with an ungodly amount of buzz surrounding its release. The hype for this book is massive enough to make wary even the most optimistic reader – and, as someone that has been let down more than a few times this year by highly anticipated reads, it was with some trepidation that I started this book.

And…The Way of Kings is just about as good as expected.* Impressively detailed, ambitious as hell, and freaking THICK (clocking in at over 1000 pages, The Way of Kings is a bonafide doorstopper), The Way of Kings is a solid first entry in a promising new series.

——————–
* I say “just about as good as expected” because it isn’t nearly as good as the first Mistborn book. While an impressive undertaking, TWoK’s biggest downfall is that it is but the first novel in a very long series – and as such, there isn’t much in the way of resolution. And, well, it’s shockingly similar to the aforementioned Mistborn series. But, more on that in a bit.

Ana: I am a huge Brandon Sanderson fan and was waiting for this with anxiety. All I can say is: the hype is justified. The Way of Kings met my expectations and even surpassed them. It has everything that I came to expect from the author: kooky magic system, amazing world building and strong characters (of both genres) and more, because I think this is his best book (yes, even better than Mistborn) to date where I can see how his writing has matured. I started with trepidatious excitement, HOLY CRAP- ep my way through it and ended it with that feeling of sheer, unmitigated joy which only happens when discovering a new series to love. It might be only the start of a long, long series yet to come and as such it does read like a first of many, but oh, what a beginning it is.

On the Plot: Very basically because there is way too much happening in this book: Once upon a time, the Almighty tasked the Knights Radiant to protect humanity against the threat of the Voidbringers and gave them Shardblades and Shardplate – near invulnerable armor – to fight them off. Then the Radiants, tired of their task of eternal task to protect humanity against the attacking Voidbringers, put down their shardblades and armor, and walked away from mankind (or did they?). Ever since, man has been fighting amongst each other to acquire the remaining Shardblades. The book follows four main characters from different strata of society with different sets of skills (the political/war leader, the slave/warrior, the scholar and the outsider), in alternating point of view chapters, until an inevitable convergence of threads.

Ana: The Way of Kings is an epic introduction to a brand new Epic Fantasy series. It doesn’t try to do something new, it doesn’t try to break away from traditional. Quite the contrary, it embraces the very definition of epic right from the start: it is extensive, it has impressive proportions, and it involves and encompasses very traditional heroism with some very recognisable tropes and archetypical (but not necessarily stereotypical) characters and to me none of this is a bad thing. In fact, Brandon Sanderson reminds me of how much I love Epic Fantasy for these very same reasons. But where this particular book diverges from the puerile and from the danger of being just “another one” is where he makes it all his own: by further exploring themes that he has introduced in his previous books (slavery, mythopolitics, mundane theology and the creation of Gods) , by creating another entirely original magic system and by writing sympathetic, flawed characters of the heroic variety.

As an introduction, as the first of what promises to be a long series, it is very much about setting and presentation. It starts with a bang and it finishes with another bang and it has serious moments of kick-ass action but for the most part, it takes its sweet time with introducing the main characters (their past and their present) of this play, placing them in the required position for next move as well as slowly disclosing the world and its politics, economics, theology and even biology , magic (or lack of) to the reader and Sanderson does so with a small amount of exposition. For a book that it’s 1000 page long, I fully expected to be bored at the some point or to come to the conclusion that it could have been shorter but no. Even though it reads as an introduction, I was left with the impression that it is a necessary introduction and never once felt that it should have been shorter and that in itself is surprising to me. One of the things I questioned when reading Sanderson’s previous books was the amount of repetitive information and thought processes (i.e. the needless, endless mental masturbation that characters such as Elend went through) but The Way Of Kings is very… clean and it reads so, very well and easily making it at the very least, the best of his books in terms of writing.

I am in fact, in awe at the sheer insanity that this book presents: the amount of peoples, locations, times, creatures, characters, etc is mind blowing and I can only but to bow down to Sanderson’s genius.

Ultimately, for me, the book does what is supposed to do: I am completely hooked and prepared to carry on reading the series.

Thea: I do have to agree with Ana that The Way of Kings embraces the Epic side of fantasy, and that it is an ambitious and well-conceived undertaking. There are plot threads branching off of plot threads, each as tantalizing and promising as the last. The magical system, the setting, the writing itself are all expertly crafted and executed, and in that I can find no fault with the book.

Since Ana’s already covered all the good, I’ll be the bad cop and point out what didn’t quite work for me. My problems with The Way of Kings are two-fold. The first problem I have (and I should note that this will not be a problem for everyone) is that The Way of Kings is boilerplate Mistborn.

A reluctant but dedicated hero. A post-apocalyptic, dead landscape ravaged by an ever-pressing weather phenomenon (instead of ashfall and eerie mists, you have shattered deserts and these great storms). A mysterious race of creatures that no one really knows anything about (the Kandra in Mistborn, the Parshmen here). A dead God. A prophecy (un)fulfilled. A misinterpretation of visions and texts.

It’s almost as if the template for Mistborn was taken and embellished for The Way of Kings. This isn’t to say that The Way of Kings isn’t good, because it is. It’s ridiculously good, and even though it’s a thousand pages long (with really tiny text and really large pages), I never felt tired of the story or that I was slogging through just to get to the ending. This is testament to Mr. Sanderson’s skill as a storyteller that he manages to tell almost the same story and kept me reading it the whole way through with a minimum of skepticism.

But enough with the comparisons – how does The Way of Kings stand on its own? Pretty solidly. There are possibilities of deeper issues to be explored – the divide between rich and poor, the powerful and the disenfranchised; the intriguing split between sexes (scholarship is a “womanly” art, whereas warfare is a male art; sweet food is womanly and unfit for men, etc). In Sanderson’s prior books, there really isn’t much in the way of social critique or symbolism, but there is this possibility in The Way of Kings (whether or not the books will ever go there is a different story). There is also some talk of religion and ethics, but again conducted on a superficial level. I don’t doubt that Brandon Sanderson has the capacity to go deeper with these ideas – the question is, will he?

Finally, in terms of writing, the alternating character viewpoint chapters are effective and build the story on multiple fronts (with the added benefit of readers not getting too tired with a single perspective – for example, if I had to read ONLY Kaladin’s story for the whole book, I probably would have gone insane – but more on that below!). My only qualm in terms of writing and plotting technique is that I wished that there was more time spent on Shallan and Jasnah’s storyline, as opposed to the constant Kaladin overload. But now I’m getting ahead of myself again.

On the Characters:

Ana: With regards to the characters, The Way of Kings has not only recognisable Fantasy archetypes but it has also recognisable Brandon Sanderson-style characters. The vast majority of characters in the books are that of a good, heroic, variety. That is not to say that they are cookie cutter, Mary/Marty Sues types: they are flawed, they have inner struggles for a variety of reasons (betrayal, loss, struggle with political and religious beliefs) and some of them traverse a more grey area of morality (like for example, Shallan, one of the female characters, aka the Scholar) and they sound more realistic than his previous characters for all that.

Even though I love to read about dark, morally dubious anti-hero characters, I will shamelessly admit to have a preference for the truly heroic ones, hence Kaladin (aka The Slave) is by far my favourite: he is someone I rooted for from beginning to ending, on his failed attempts not to care about his comrades and his eventual surrender to his role of protector. I totally fist pumped the air when his time came to be The Bravest of Them All.

I will also confess to being terrified right now: this series is going to be long, what are the changes that all of these characters introduced now will make it to the end? (and the fact that I am even worried about this is another sign of how much I am on board of this train).

Another important point worth mentioning. I have always appreciated Brandon Sanderson’s treatment of his female characters as characters with agency of their own. Mistborn’s Vin is one of my favourite Fantasy female characters of all time. And it is no different here. A couple of protagonists are female characters and they are great but not only that, there is a special thread which concerns the very roles that women play on this society (for now, they are respected as the scholarly ones and they are the only ones that can read – but never fight) but there is an underlying discussion as to how this norm is an imposition and not a “natural” role and the seed for breaking the norm has been sowed in this first instalment and I can’t wait to see how it all plays out.

Thea: Here’s where I’m a little more…divergent. I mentioned above that while I thoroughly enjoyed this book, my problems were two-fold. The second, larger problem, lies with the characters: they are all so ridiculously GOOD.

The biggest goody-two-shoes of them all being Kelsier-I mean, Kaladin (their NAMES even look the same). A Ben Hur-type badass warrior that has become a slave, that has become a leader again, Kaladin is undoubtedly the Hero of this book. And, he is in the tradition of old heroes, unerringly Heroic. He cannot help but save people. He takes the young and the weak under his wing. He’s faster than a speeding bullet, more powerful than a locomotive, and able to leap tall buildings in a single bound — I mean, he floats like a butterfly and stings like a — I mean…

You get the picture.

That’s not to say that Kaladin is infallible – indeed, for the good majority of the novel (and this is an overwhelming majority, as of all the characters, Kal is the only one to have a running narrative in all five parts of the book), Kal is a self-tortured hero, wallowing in the pain of his failures. (Again, to compare to the Mistborn books, Kal has shades of Elend and Sazed – the grating, constant self-doubts; the ceaseless self-torture over his past endeavors and deaths at his hands) After a couple hundred pages of this, my sympathies towards Kaladin and his terminal Jack Shephard syndrome (Oh Em Gee, Kaladin is even a SURGEON! WITH DADDY ISSUES! Didn’t even make that connection until now!) were zilch.*

This is, of course, a matter of personal preference. In modern fantasy, there is a dearth of truly Heroic characters (more morally ambiguous anti-heroes currently en vogue), so for that alone I do have to give Mr. Sanderson props.

My frustration with Kaladin aside, however, the bigger problem is that almost every protagonist and supporting character in this book shares this over-the-top goodness and nobility. The bridge crews, Alethi King’s uncle Dalinar, his son Adolin, even the purported “villains” – highprince Sadeas or assassin Szeth, for example – have best interests at heart. I find it hard to believe that in the bridge crews, there isn’t a single rotten, heinous character. Not all the “nobler” characters are so unpalatable, however. Like Kaladin, Dalinar is a similarly noble but tortured character, conflicted over the assassination of his brother Galivar, the former king, and tormented by visions. His storyline as he grapples with decisions and the accusations that he is going mad is undeniably gripping.

And, these criticisms aside, I do think there were a few fascinating characters that were at the periphery of this book – and I dearly hope to see more of them in the next volume. In particular, the female characters of Shallan and Jasnah, and the king’s Wit. Shallan, purportedly one of the three protagonists of this book (though her storyline gets far less time than either Kaladin’s or Dalinar’s) travels far and long to become high princess Jasnah (Dalinar’s niece and sister to the king)’s Ward – but her motivations are not so pure. Though she discovers a love for scholarship, Shallan’s primary objective is not to become more educated and to be married off. Jasnah is undoubtedly my favorite character of the book, as she is the most morally ambiguous of the book – there’s one particular scene in which she attempts to teach Shallan something of ethics and philosophy by way of example, and it is badass. I can only hope that there is much more of this duo – especially given their revelation at the end – in the next book.

And finally, there is the King’s Wit. I’m not quite sure what his story is, but he’s a fascinating figure, and one that I think will figure into the overall story in a much larger way.

Of course, there are a multitude of secondary and tertiary characters that we haven’t mentioned – but, despite their sickening tendency towards doing the noble/right/good thing, they are all very well written and impressively varied; i.e. they are more than just bland filler in the background. And that is impressive in and of itself.

——————–
*Ana: OH NO YOU DIDN’T JUST EQUATE KALADIN WITH JACK SHEPHARD! *engages in fighting stance*

Final Thoughts, Observations and Rating:

Thea: Despite its strong similarities to the Mistborn books and it’s over-the-top Goodhearted characters, I still truly enjoyed The Way of Kings. I am beginning to grow familiar with Sanderson’s favorite devices – alternating storylines that ultimately converge; noble-minded characters; detailed magical systems & worldbuilding; lengthy religious/ethical debate – but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Though these favorite tropes are easily spotted, Mr. Sanderson is clearly refining his technique, growing more skilled as an author and storyteller. I think the Stormlight Archive has the potential to be a better series than Mistborn trilogy – though it isn’t there yet (I still think that Mistborn is a much better first novel in comparison to The Way of Kings – though TWoK is more complex). One of the best new fantasy novels I’ve read this year…but I’m still waiting to be wowed.

Ana: I more than enjoyed The Way of Kings, I loved it truly and deeply. I think it is already better than the Mistborn trilogy not only for its epic scale but because it is a better book when it comes to the prose. Regardless of how much I loved it, I do agree with Thea that it is still not quite up there in terms of being a Totally Awesome Book but the series has a lot of potential to be just that at some point. The Way of Kings reminded me of how much I love epic fantasy and now much I love heroic, honourable characters and it’s definitely one of the best Fantasy novels I read this year, I rank it on my top 3, in fact, alongside The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms by N.K. Jemisin and City of Ruin by Mark Charan Newton.

Notable Quotes/Parts: From the Prologue:

Prelude to
The Stormlight Archive

Kalak rounded a rocky stone ridge and stumbled to a stop before the body of a dying thunderclast. The enormous stone beast lay on its side, riblike protrusions from its chest broken and cracked. The monstrosity was vaguely skeletal in shape, with unnaturally long limbs that sprouted from granite shoulders. The eyes were deep red spots on the arrowhead face, as if created by a fire burning deep within the stone. They faded.

Even after all these centuries, seeing a thunderclast up close made Kalak shiver. The beast’s hand was as long as a man was tall. He’d been killed by hands like those before, and it hadn’t been pleasant.

Of course, dying rarely was.

He rounded the creature, picking his way more carefully across the battlefield. The plain was a place of misshapen rock and stone, natural pillars rising around him, bodies littering the ground. Few plants lived here. The stone ridges and mounds bore numerous scars. Some were shattered, blasted-out sections where Surgebinders had fought. Less frequently, he passed cracked, oddly shaped hollows where thunderclasts had ripped themselves free of the stone to join the fray.

Many of the bodies around him were human; many were not. Blood mixed. Red. Orange. Violet. Though none of the bodies around him stirred, an indistinct haze of sounds hung in the air. Moans of pain, cries of grief. They did not seem like the sounds of victory. Smoke curled from the occasional patches of growth or heaps of burning corpses. Even some sections of rock smoldered. The Dustbringers had done their work well.

But I survived, Kalak thought, hand to breast as he hastened to the meeting place. I actually survived this time.

That was dangerous. When he died, he was sent back, no choice. When he survived the Desolation, he was supposed to go back as well. Back to that place that he dreaded. Back to that place of pain and fire. What if he just decided . . . not to go?

Perilous thoughts, perhaps traitorous thoughts. He hastened on his way.

Tor has been doing a fabulous job teasing and promoting this title – in addition to the Prologue and Chapters 1-3, you can read Chapters 4-6, Chapters 9 & 11, and Chapters 12 & 13 online. (Why the jump in chapters, you ask? Because the preview focuses on a single character’s storyline – Kaladin’s. Don’t worry, you won’t be lost or confused should you try to read the chapters in this order!) You’ll need a Tor.com account to read the excerpts – but don’t worry, it’s free and easy to sign up.

And, once you’ve finished devouring those chapters, make sure to check out The Way of Kings Master Index and the official Stormlight Archive Facebook Page.

Additional Thoughts: We happen to be pretty big Brandon Sanderson fans – and if you’re daunted by The Way of Kings‘ substantial girth, and are looking for somewhere else to start, look no further! We *highly* recommend his Mistborn Trilogy (Mistborn, The Well of Ascension and Hero of Ages) for those looking for a completed series…

…or if you’re looking for more of a self-contained novel, Warbreaker is superb.

Rating:

Thea: 7 – Very Good

Ana: I am wavering between a 8 and a 9. For sheer Enjoyment-Whilst-Reading, I would give it a 9 but objectively speaking I think it would be more of a 8 – Excellent, only because there is so much more coming.

Reading Next: Dust by Joan Frances Turner

Title: Plain Kate

Author: Erin Bow

Publisher: Arthur A. Levine Books
Publication Date: September 2010
Hardcover: 336 pages

Plain Kate lives in a world of superstitions and curses, where a song can heal a wound and a shadow can work deep magic. As the wood-carver’s daughter, Kate held a carving knife before a spoon, and her wooden talismans are so fine that some even call her “witch-blade”: a dangerous nickname in a country where witches are hunted and burned in the square.

For Kate and her village have fallen on hard times. Kate’s father has died, leaving her alone in the world. And a mysterious fog now covers the countryside, ruining crops and spreading fear of hunger and sickness. The townspeople are looking for someone to blame, and their eyes have fallen on Kate.

Enter Linay, a stranger with a proposition: In exchange for her shadow, he’ll give Kate the means to escape the angry town, and what’s more, he’ll grant her heart’s wish. It’s a chance for her to start over, to find a home, a family, a place to belong. But Kate soon realizes she can’t live shadowless forever — and that Linay’s designs are darker than she ever dreamed.

Stand alone or series: Stand alone

How did we get this book: We both got signed ARCs at BEA.

Why did we get this book: We went to the YA Buzz Editor’s panel at BEA and Erin Bow was one of the panelists, when she started talking about her book, we both started foaming at the mouth to get it. About half an hour later, we are walking around the signings session and lo and behold: Plain Kate! Erin Bow! THERE! So we just got in line and got us lovely copies.

Review:

First Impressions:

Ana: I came away from BEA in May with about 100 books in my suitcase and I can honestly say that Plain Kate was my most anticipated read out of the bunch after I saw the author speaking at one of the panels. We often say here at The Book Smugglers’ HQ that sometimes having that much expectation works against a book, as unfair as it is. I think this is at work here, at least in my case: I loved many, many things about Plain Kate: the writing, the setting, the main characters, and it is really, a very good book but ultimately I felt strangely underwhelmed and somewhat disappointed that it wasn’t as good as I hoped.

Thea: As Ana says, Plain Kate was a total surprise at BEA. I hadn’t heard of the author nor a peep about the book, but when we heard Erin Bow read a passage aloud, I instantly knew I had to get a copy. And you know what? I walked away from Plain Kate feeling emotionally worn, but immensely satisfied. For me, the book lived up to my expectations, and then some. I loved this book.

On the plot:

Ana: What I liked the most about Plain Kate was the atmospheric medieval Russian setting and the evocative, beautiful prose which combined to give the book a distinct flavouring, a feeling that the reader is taking part in one of those old tales. To start with, the story is extremely inviting, welcoming even, as the tale of Plain Kate unfolds. From her relationship with her father, then with the village and its support (or lack) system, from her pride on the fact that she was one of the best wood-carvers that there was even though she was not officially part of a guild; to the increasing fear of witchery and what happens to people who let fear dictate their actions. Had the story followed this pattern and had Kate’s story gradually develop on its own, it would have been awesome, I think.

But soon enough, after Kate meets the witch Linay and makes a Faustian deal with him, it becomes clear that Plain Kate is at its core a Revenge story, the Revenge is what moves the plot along but because the Revenge is to be exacted by someone OTHER than Kate it is as though the story suddenly moves its focus and the main character becomes a supporting character of her own story (but more on that further down).

I did find the story itself interesting (and I love the idea of how important one’s shadow is) even though not necessarily original but I liked its uncompromising darkness. Although the execution of the plot was not flawless and I counted at least two instances of Extreme Coincidence to move it along. I would say that the first part of the novel was my favourite, then it lags a bit in the middle and it picks a bit again towards the ending which makes for a very uneven read.

It also needs to be said that I LOVED the fact that there is no romance in sight, none, zero. It is all about Kate and her friends and enemies and that the ending was a happy as it could be given the circumstances. But writing this I realise that perhaps the one reason I have to LOVE the book is perhaps the wrong reason: I love it for what it is NOT, rather because of what it IS.

Thea: I have to disagree, Ana. Though the book is titled Plain Kate, and though Kate is clearly the protagonist, I loved that she is an indirect heroine, by someone else’s design rather than of her own choosing. I love that ultimately, Linay chose Kate as his subject, not because of any innate magical ability or because she was born under a certain star when the planets aligned or whatever Chosen One sort of hoopla – rather, Kate is our heroine because of her perceived weakness, and over the course of the book this flourishes into strength. Instead of following Kate on a journey of her own design, Plain Kate takes an ordinary – plain – girl, and gives us her adventure in a game of a much bigger design.

I think that’s awesome.

From a writing standpoint, Ms. Bow’s prose is smooth and lush – as I remarked to Ana in an email, this book reminded me so of Garth Nix’s Sabriel (and not only because there’s a talking cat). Written in the style of the fantasy novels of my childhood – relying on emotions and almost poetic descriptions as opposed to a focus on action or romance (as seems to be the modern trend), Plain Kate is almost nostalgic. And, as a fan of Tamora Pierce and Garth Nix, Ms. Bow is a bonafide throwback, and I mean this in the best possible way.

With regard to setting, I completely agree with Ana – the medieval Eastern European feel to the novel is perhaps not entirely unique, though it is well written and conceived. The brutality of people looking to blame “witches” for their misfortunes, their propensity for hate, the mob mentality, it’s all unflinchingly seen in Plain Kate. At the same time, there is this underlying thread for wanting to belong – for acceptance and love for oneself, which is handled beautifully, I think. As Ana mentions above, Plain Kate does have a revenge story (in fact, it is the impetus for the plot), but I don’t think it’s fair to say that this novel is a revenge book. More than anything, Plain Kate is about acceptance and sacrifice.

On the characters:

Ana: On one hand the majority of the characters are complex and never fall into one-dimensional territory. That is especially true with regards to Linay who has compelling characteristic that makes him sympathetic even when he is being heinous. I appreciated the difficult, intricate love-hate relationship he forms with Kate.

On the other have I have mixed feeling directed to the protagonist of the novel. She has all the markings of a great character: strength of character, a sense of self-worth, empathy and quiet determination. It is a shame that she is written into a story that increasingly becomes not her own and which makes her more of a “reactive” character than an “active” one as most of the things that happen in the book and which serve to move the story further are events that happen TO Kate rather than out her own volition, even those some of these reactions are actually pretty cool because of who she is.

And then there is Taggle, her cat, whom I loved so totally, although I can’t really say why for risk of spoiling it but he is full of heroism and dedication and has an arc of his own which is a very interesting pointing at another consequence of Kate’s Faustian pact with Linay.

Thea: I share Ana’s love for Taggle, and her mixed emotions towards Linay (and I would extend that to Behjet, as well); it is the mark of a gifted writer that a reader can loathe a character and yet still feel sympathy and understanding at the same time. Plain Kate’s world is a rough one, and her journeys take her to people that fear her skill at carving, taking her natural talent for witchcraft, and her mismatched colored eyes only exacerbating her position. Each character in this book has surprising depth, with no simple “good” or “bad” cookie-cutter types of heroes or villains.

And this, of course, extends to Kate as well. While I completely agree that Kate’s story is more of a “reactive” one, I do think this is part of the appeal of Plain Kate. Plain Kate begins her journey because she is singled out for her weakness – when she isn’t weak at all. Using the lessons of her father, Kate gradually takes hold of her own story, and by the end of the book, she has made her choices (heartbreaking though they may be) and won me over completely. It’s very clever characterization when you think about it, this slide from utterly passive and reactive to aggressively proactive.

And a quick note as to the adjective “Plain” prefacing Kate’s name. While it is true that Kate is neither beautiful nor ugly, I personally think that the “Plain” refers to Kate’s simple honesty, or as the Miriam-Webster Dictionary says, “free from artifice.” That is Kate to the letter.

Final Thoughts, Observations and Rating:

Ana: It is the strangest thing: Plain Kate has many elements that should have me truly love this book but I was left cold. I wish I could be more positive but two weeks after reading it, all I can remember is the cat. I did love the prose though and I will be first in line to get Erin Bow’s next book (which sounds awesome).

Thea: I loved Plain Kate from beginning to end, and I most certainly will be back for more from author Erin Bow. Absolutely recommended.

Notable Quotes/Parts: From the first chapter:

A long time ago, in a market town by a looping river, there lived an orphan girl called Plain Kate.

She was called this because her father had introduced her to the new butcher, saying: “This is my beloved Katerina Svetlana, after her mother who died birthing her and God rest her soul, but I call her just plain Kate.” And the butcher, swinging a cleaver, answered: “That’s right enough, Plain Kate she is, plain as a stick.” A man who treasured humor, especially his own, the butcher repeated this to everyone. After that, she was called Plain Kate. But her father called her Kate My Star.

Plain Kate’s father Poitr was a woodcarver. He gave Kate a carving knife before most children might be given a spoon. She could whittle before she could walk. When she was still a child, she could carve a rose that strangers would stop to smell, a dragonfly that trout would rise to strike.

In Kate’s little town of Samilae, people thought that there was magic in a knife. A person who could wield a knife well was, in their eyes, half-way to a witch. So Plain Kate was very small the first time someone spat at her and crooked their fingers.

Her father sat her down and spoke to her with great seriousness. “You are not a witch, Katerina. There is magic in the world, and some of it is wholesome, and some of it is not, but it is a thing that is in the blood, and it is not in yours.

“The foolish will always treat you badly, because they think you are not beautiful,” he said, and she knew this was true. Plain Kate: She was plain as as stick, and thin as a stick, and flat as stick. She had one eye the color of river mud and one eye the color of the river. Her nose was too long and her brows were too strong. Her father kissed her twice, once above each eyebrow. “We cannot help what fools think. But understand, it is your skill with a blade that draws this talk. If you want to give up your carving, you have my blessing.”

“I will never give it up,” she answered.

And he laughed and called her his Brave Star, and taught her to carve even better.

They were busy. Everyone in that country, no matter how poor, wore a talisman called an objarka, and those who could hung larger objarkas on horse stalls and door posts and above their marriage beds. No lintel was uncarved in that place, and walls bore saints in niches, and roads were marked with little shrines on posts, which housed sometimes saints, and sometimes older, stranger things. Plain Kate’s father was even given the honor of replacing Samilae’s wiezi, the great column at the center of the market that showed the town’s angels and coats of arms, and, at the top, supported the carved wooden roof that sheltered the carved wooden gods. The new wiezi was such a good work that the Guild Masters sent a man from Lov to see it. The man made Kate’s father a full master on the spot.

“My daughter did some of the angels,” he told the man, gathering Kate up and pulling her forward.

The man looked up at the faces that were so beautiful they seemed sad, the wings that looked both soft and strong, like the wings of swans that could kill a man with one blow. “Apprentice her,” he said.

“If she likes,” Poitr answered. “And when she is of age.”

When the guild man went away, Plain Kate chided her father. “You know I will be your apprentice!”

“You are the star of my heart,” he said. “But it is two years yet before you are of prenticing age. Anything might happen.”

She laughed at him: “What will happen is that I will be a full master by the time I am twenty.”

But what happened was that her father died.

Rating:

Ana: 6 – Good

Thea: 8 – Excellent

Reading Next: The Way of Kings by Brandon “we lurves him” Sanderson

Title: The Thief Taker’s Apprentice

Author: Stephen Deas

Genre: Fantasy, Young Adult

Publisher: Gollancz YA
Publication Date: August 2010
Paperback: 320 pages

Berren has lived in the city all his life. He has made his way as a thief, paying a little of what he earns to the Fagin like master of their band. But there is a twist to this tale of a thief. One day Berren goes to watch an execution of three thieves. He watches as the thief-taker takes his reward and decides to try and steal the prize. He fails. The young thief is taken. But the thief-taker spots something in Berren. And the boy reminds him of someone as well. Berren becomes his apprentice. And is introduced to a world of shadows, deceit and corruption behind the streets he thought he knew. Full of richly observed life in a teeming fantasy city, a hectic progression of fights, flights and fancies and charting the fall of a boy into the dark world of political plotting and murder this marks the beginning of a new fantasy series for all lovers of fantasy – from fans of Kristin Cashore to Brent Weeks.

Stand alone or series: Book 1 in a planned series

How did we get this book: Review Copies from the publisher

Why did we read this book: Ana is a definite fan of author Stephen Deas – having reviewed and enjoyed his adult novels, The Adamantine Palace and The King of Crags (Thea promises to get on board with these two titles as soon as possible, too). So, when we learned of his YA fantasy debut, we were very excited to give it a read.

REVIEW

First Impressions:

Thea: The Thief-Taker’s Apprentice was my first introduction to Stephen Deas – and I’ll say it’s a well-made acquaintance. This is one aptly told and engaging book, and I was able to enjoy it all in just about one sitting. Enjoyable characters and an action-filled plot (if light on the actual magical/fantasy element) make The Thief-Taker’s Apprentice smooth sailing – my only criticism being that there isn’t much to really distinguish this particular story from a morass of other pleasing, but ultimately bland young-ragamuffin becomes wizard/warrior/thief-taker/fill-in-the-blank novels.

Ana: Having read and enjoyed Stephen Deas’ adult books, I was looking forward to reading his first foray into the YA world. And I have to say: I really liked it, in fact, I liked it even more than his adult books. The Thief-Taker’s Apprentice is indeed, very enjoyable, full of the sort of action I have come to expect from this author plus a couple of interesting characters and although I have to agree with Thea when she says that the book is not particularly outstanding, I still had a good time reading it.

On the Plot:

Thea: In the port city of Deephaven, young Berren (not old enough to be properly called a man, but certainly no child) survives as a deft thief. Working under the protection of boss Fagin, Berren is like many other orphaned boys in the city – ruthless, quick, and opportunistic. During a scheduled public execution of two thieves takes place in the city square, Berren eagerly pushes his way to watch the festivities – and instantly becomes fixed on the Thief-Taker. Publicly receiving 10 golden emperors as payment for his services, the temptation is too much for Berren to pass up, as he decides to follow the mysterious thief-taker and nab his purse. Easier said than done – especially when other, larger men have the same idea and are easily thwarted by the thief-taker and his magical abilities. Somehow, Berren is able to escape with the purse…only to find it filled with rust and worthless coppers. Even worse, when Berren returns to Fagin’s lair, he finds himself sold by his thief master to none other than the Thief-Taker himself. Forced into an apprenticeship with the moody, violent, yet fascinating Syannis, Berren comes to grips with his new life. Facing challenges from both without and within, Berren reluctantly accepts his new role – and when dire threat faces he and his new master, both thief-takers will be tested to their limits.

Plot-wise and writing-wise, Mr. Deas is a skilled storyteller, deftly moving the action along as young Berren struggles in his new position in life. With all sorts of obstacles thrown in his path – the most significant of which being his tumultuous relationship with new mentor Syannis – The Thief-Taker’s Apprentice is an engaging, fast-paced read. That doesn’t necessarily translate to depth, though, and the biggest flaw with the novel is that as enjoyable as it is, ultimately The Thief-Taker’s Apprentice is banal. Nothing out of the ordinary. Yes, it’s a fun read, but there are a zillion youngsters searching for acceptance and making the journey of self-discovery with the stern but watchful help of an Intimidating Mentor. That said, I do think that Mr. Deas has undeniable skill as a writer. I loved that there is less a reliance on magic in this fantasy novel, and more a focus on the harsh reality of life in Deephaven. So…I’m a little divided on the issue!

Ana: There is no denying that Stephen Deas can weave a story and the book greatest strength lies in its central storyline and paced adventure. Much like this adult books, The Thief-Taker’s Apprentice has short chapters and 99% of them from Berren’s point of view. I love the idea of Thief-Taking for example and how it is more about diplomacy than fighting skills although there is no shortage of great fighting sequences. Similarly, the world that the characters inhabit is interesting even though we have more quick glimpses than actual in-depth exploration, of political, religious and economical issues that shape Deephaven. I have to say, it intrigued me and I would have liked to know more. Perhaps to me, that is the biggest problem I had with The Thief-Taker’s Apprentice (which is similar to the problems I had with his other novels): that I was given morsels instead of mouthfuls that I could actually seek my teeth in.

On the Characters:

Thea: Characters concerned, The Thief-Taker’s Apprentice does its best. Berren is your quintessential teen fantasy vagabond – reluctant, rough around the edges, but with a heart of gold (and some serious skills) beneath. Flawed enough to be sympathetic, yet strong enough to be inspiring, Berren is the perfect blend of vulnerability and ruggedness. And, the Batman to his Robin, Syannis is charmingly unpredictable. The relationship between Berren and Syannis is classic stuff – the curmudgeonly master with his trouble-prone apprentice is a classic trope, and one that Mr. Deas plays on with aplomb.

But…again, my only criticism is, there isn’t too much to set Berren apart from his predecessors (Harry P., Gen or Aladdin, for example). As enjoyable as this dynamic is, I can’t help but wish for a little more distinction. But, maybe that’s just me.

Ana: Instead of spreading the action into different point of views as before, this time around the author concentrates on one character and his journey and for a reader who prefers character-driven stories this should have been heaven. However, and you can colour me surprised, I ended up enjoying the storytelling, the writing, the plotting more than the characters’ journey. I think part of it does come from a degree of predictability emanating from the main character. When someone reads as much as Thea and I do, it is easy to come across the “quintessential teen fantasy vagabond” (love that, Thea) often. That is not to say that I didn’t like the characters and their relationship, because I did but there was nothing new in their dynamic. On their own, I actually liked Syannis as a character more than I liked Berren because as Thea says, he did have a certain degree of unpredictability as well as an intriguing back story, and that is perhaps another issue since the book is a YA novel and I ended up liking the adult character more.

One last note on female characters, because this is something that I am becoming more and more aware of. Deephaven is a very masculine world and there are very few female characters – oh I would so have loved to see a female Thief-taker, someone to kick Syannis’ ass – and the one secondary female character, is Berren’s love interest. She does have a mind of her own and her own moment to shine and I liked the execution of this character until the very end when she is of course, kidnapped by his enemy and used as bait which seemed like a shortcut to motivate the hero to be on his full on hero-mode and finally face his enemy.

Final Thoughts, Observations and Rating:

Thea: I enjoyed The Thief-Taker’s Apprentice, but I can’t help but feel that there’s something more that I’m waiting for. I’m reminded of Philip Larkin’s criteria for book reviews, particularly the third and final question: If I care, what is the depth of that caring and how long will it last?. Ultimately, I don’t feel a depth of connection with The Thief-Taker’s Apprentice – I feel the pressing question, ’so what?’ But that said, I do think there’s a lot of potential with this book – and I will be picking up more of Stephen Deas’ work in the future.

Ana: I liked The Thief-Taker’s Apprentice and enjoyed my time reading it (and there were truly brilliant moments there) but as you can tell, I had my share of problems with it. I have always said that I enjoy Stephen Deas’ novels and they have a lot of potential – I like his writing and his ideas. Three books in, and it feels as though I am still waiting to fall deeply in love with his books – the spark is definitely there, it just needs something else to ignite it.

Notable Quotes/Parts: From Chapter 1:

The crowd had come to watch three men die. Most of them had no idea who the three men were. Nor did they particularly care. They’d come into the Four Winds Square for the spectacle, for a bit of blood, for an afternoon of entertainment. They’d come for the jugglers and the fire-breathers, the pie-sellers and the pastry-sellers, the singers and the speakers. They’d come for everything the city had to offer, and that’s what they got.

The thief ran through them with practised ease. The crowd barely noticed he was there. He slipped between the larger bodies around him like an eel between a fisherman’s fingers, finding space where none seemed to exist. If anyone had asked him how old he was, he might have said twelve or he might have said sixteen, depending on who was doing the asking. The truth probably lay somewhere in between. The truth was that he didn’t know and he didn’t much care. He was small for a boy who might nearly have been a man, and his name was Berren.

He’d come for the executions like everyone else, but he’d come for the crowd too. A watcher, perched on one of the rooftops around the square and taking an interest in his progress, would have seen him pause now and then amid all his motion. Each pause marked the crowd as a fraction poorer and Berren as a token richer. The same watcher, if he stared for long enough, would have seen that Berren was slowly meandering his way towards the front of the crowd. When the executioner and his charges finally emerged, Berren had every intention of watching from as close as he could be.

After a time the crowd began to hush. At one end of the square stood a wooden platform, built especially for the occasion. For the last few hours, a succession of dancers and jugglers and other petty entertainers had paid for the privilege of using it and the crowd had largely ignored them, talking amongst itself. The coming of quiet meant a change. Berren began to worm his way further forwards. He was a head shorter than most of the crowd, and navigated by the simple expedient of watching where everyone else was looking, and then heading that way. Now and then, he caught a fleeting glimpse of the platform. A man in yellow robes was standing there, making slow gestures with his hands. Berren had an idea this made him a priest.

You can read the full excerpt online HERE.

Rating:

Thea: 6 – Good

Ana: 6 – Good

Reading Next: Plain Kate by Erin Bow

GIVEAWAY DETAILS:

Want to see for yourself what the book is all about? We have one copy to giveaway. To enter: leave a comment here telling us who is your fave “quintessential teen fantasy vagabond”, male or female. Contest is open to ALL and will run till Saturday August 14 11:59pm (PST). ONLY ONE ENTRY PER PERSON – multiple entries from the same IP address will be disqualified. Good luck! We will announce the winner in our next Sunday stash.

Title: A Wish After Midnight

Author: Zetta Elliott

Genre: Young Adult, Historical, Speculative Fiction

Publisher: CreateSpace
Publication Date: March 2009
Paperback: 254 Pages

Fifteen-year old Genna Colon believes wishes can come true. Frustrated by the drug dealers in her building, her family’s cramped apartment, and her inability to compete with the cute girls at school, Genna finds comfort in her dreams of a better future. Almost every day she visits the garden and tosses coins into the fountain, wishing for a different life, a different home, and a different body. Little does she know that her wish will soon be granted: when Genna flees into the garden late one night, she makes a fateful wish and finds herself instantly transported back in time to Civil War-era Brooklyn.

Stand alone or series: Stand alone novel

How did we get this book: Thea received a review copy from the author, Ana borrowed hers from a friend (thanks, Karen!).

Why did we read this book: We follow Zetta Elliott’s blog and articles on Diversity. When we organized YAAM, we decided it was time to read her novel.

REVIEW:

First Impressions:

Ana: I started reading A Wish After Midnight one night and didn’t stop until I finished it. The important thing to say is how I might have finished the book but was not done with it or rather the book was not done with me: I lay awake that night thinking about it and about the history, the story, the text and the subtext, the characters until I could think no more. I loved it.

Thea: I gotta agree with Ana on this one – I loved A Wish After Midnight. This is a beautiful character-centered book about a girl struggling to survive in two different eras, dealing with racism across two distant – but not so different – time periods. Zetta Elliott’s writing, plotting, and characterizations are flawless, and – well, how else can I say this? – I LOVED this book.

On the Plot:

Ana: A Wish After Midnight is a semi-fantastical account of Fifteen-year old Genna Colon’s life. The year is 2001 and Genna lives in Brooklyn with her family – her mother and three siblings. Genna is Panamanian/African American and her dad went back to Jamaica a few year back after being disillusioned with racial inequality in America. The first part of the book follows Genna in her daily life in a small apartment in a run-down building , dealing with racism, poverty and the expectations of her mother who hopes she will do better one day. Genna spends her day studying, taking care of her small baby brother, developing a relationship with an African-American boy named Judah and often visiting a public garden in Brooklyn where she eventually meets Hannah, a white woman who hires Genna as a baby-sitter.It is in one of those visits to the garden that Genna makes a wish to the fountain and ends up in the past – back in a Civil War-era Brooklyn. Thus begins the second part of the book as she wakes up in the past in the body of a slave who had been recently published – as the slashes on her back prove. Confused and in pain, Genna is rescued by a quick-thinking, emancipated slave who was nearby and taken to an orphanage where she will recover from her injuries and then try to find a way back home.

A Wish After Midnight is a wonderful, vivid story. I love for example, how the details regarding Genna’s wish and how exactly she ended up in the past are up to the reader’s imagination because after all this is not what the story is about. Rather, it is a character-driven book in which Genna’s resilience and observation of the world are what really matters.

Slavery is a loaded issue and I thought the author handled it very well, and not heavy-handed at all. In fact, the plot is a subtle representation of slavery: by taking Genna from everything she knows and loves and thrusting her in a situation of which she has no control of, therefore re-living what her ancestors went through , with an obvious difference: a 20th century sensibility. This shift demands a lot from Genna but her keen eyes don’t miss anything. And she is lucky too, as she is sent back to NY and not a southern state and a NY on the brink of the Emancipation Proclamation and the New York Draft Riots.

The author is very deft at incorporating Historical events and the Brooklyn setting is incredibly realistic and the story is also a tale of two cities – of two Brooklyns separated in time. It is less about a cohesive plot of a time traveller and more like an exploration of what if feels like to be a black girl in Brooklyn in 2001 and in the 1800s.

It simply astonishes me that with this writing and this story the author was unable to secure a publishing deal and ended up self-publishing.

Thea: What Ana said. A Wish After Midnight is much more of a character-piece than a rollicking time travel novel, but that doesn’t mean that the plotting isn’t superb. The time/world-traveling teen conceit is a familiar one (one of my favorites and a book that Wish reminded me of is Jane Yolen’s The Devil’s Arithmetic, in which a teen jumps back in time to the Holocaust – and of course there will always be the comparisons to Octavia Butler’s Kindred), and Ms. Elliott does it brilliantly, putting her own spin on this familiar plot trope. First, Ms. Elliott brings to life Genna’s world in modern day Brooklyn, detailing her separated and struggling family, the grime and danger of a life in the projects but also Genna’s love of her siblings and mother, her books, and the lush botanical gardens where she goes to escape fetid reality. When Genna awakens in 1863, in a beaten body on the eve of the Emancipation Proclamation, she may still be in Brooklyn, but it is an entirely different world. With equal care and attentiveness to detail, Civil War New York is brought to vibrant life too, as Genna is first brought back to health and then works as a nanny in Dr. and Mrs. Brant’s home. The political landscape and the historical detailing is impeccable (author Zetta Elliott holds a Ph.D. in American Studies), creating a very real, tumultuous picture of a major city on the brink of war.

The most intriguing thing about A Wish After Midnight, and what makes it stand out from other so-called time travel historical fantasy novels, in my opinion, is how the book (through Genna’s eyes) examines race and identity over two very different time periods. In modern Brookly, Genna’s mother has an instinctive mistrust, even hate, of white people – which isn’t without grounds, considering the interactions that Genna and her family have every day. Genna’s boyfriend, Judah, is resigned that he will not learn anything in American schools and is determined to move to Africa. In contrast, Genna isn’t comfortable lumping together all white folks into the same generalization as her mother does, nor does she think Africa is the solution to all of life’s problems. And then, Genna jumps back in time, and experiences the world from a completely new perspective – as an assumed runaway female slave, vulnerable and utterly alone. There’s danger aplenty in Genna’s worlds – both in modern Brooklyn (one story Genna relates about a girl that was raped in a staircase at school is particularly chilling) and past Brooklyn, where being black – being a black woman – is incredibly dangerous.

But more than just an examination of racism, A Wish After Midnight is a book about Genna discovering and feeling comfortable with herself. But more on that in a bit.

On the Characters:

Ana: It is in the characterisations that I think A Wish After Midnight excels. All of them to some extent or another, but especially Genna. It is Genna that carries this book on her back and her voice is simply one of the best narrative voices I have read in YA. From her relationship with siblings for example (her eldest sister is often seen as evil as most older sisters are – my baby sister will probably tell you the same when she recollects our childhood, I am ashamed to say) to he relationship with her mother. She is extremely keen observer of her environment and I love how her views of both white and black people are balanced – white people are not all devils even though she feels and sees racism every day of her life. She navigates the sometimes hazy waters of an outlook that has shades of grey instead of being black and white. She is resilient, proud, inquisitive and fair.

I absolutely loved the diversity of the characters especially the ones back in the 19th century from her white employees to her black comrades. The former are good people yes and abolitionists but their views are often patronising and insulting. As for the latter, some of them feel justifiable anger and resentment but they all react in different ways and it is all part of the different experiences – and none of them are presented as being wrong or right. They are all possible reactions, part of perfectly legitimate responses to racism and poverty. Genna’s mother is fast in hating white people for example and Judah’s answer is to want to go back to Africa.

Speaking of Judah, I don’t like Judah as her romantic interest simply because I don’t like the way he usually treats her. But I like their interactions and how they discuss things and many times disagree and this discussion is rich in providing different sides of a debate. Judah is an interesting character and a perfect counterpoint to Genna – whereas he wants to go away and start anew, Genna still wants to make America her home and a home that would welcome everybody.

In the end, I cared deeply for these characters and hoped for the betterment of their lives – anywhere in time.

Thea: As Ana says above, this is truly a character-driven book. It is because of Genna that A Wish After Midnight shines so brightly – because of her keen, observant, even lyrical narration. Her interactions with her family (especially with her mother and her youngest sibling, Tyjuan) are moving and genuine, as is her relationship with Judah. It’s the little things that Genna says – her observation about girls wearing contact lenses, her likening her newly coiled and dreadlocked hair as seedlings needing to be tended – that are so memorable.

But beyond Genna’s skill as a narrator, she’s also a girl that sees herself as awkward and unattractive, picked on at school and by her own older brother and sister. Her remarks about her own looks, her insecurity about her hair and about how tall she is, it’s relateable – and it makes A Wish After Midnight also a story of self-discovery, and identity, as Genna becomes comfortable in her own skin.

While the other characters are detailed and vivid – from Genna’s hardened mother to the cruelty of Mrs. Brant (what a terrible woman!), this really is more than anything else, Genna’s story, and she steals the show.

Final Thoughts, Observations & Rating:

Ana: A Wish After Midnight is wonderful book that made me think, made me feel. I loved the writing and most of all I loved Genna’s voice and her portrayal as a strong, proud, resourceful young girl.

Thea: This is a beautiful novel, and one that I wholeheartedly recommend to readers of all genres, backgrounds and ages. Poetic, poignant, and memorable, A Wish After Midnight is a book that lingers with you long after the last page, and I cannot wait to read more from the talented Zetta Elliott.

Notable Quotes/Parts: We love this passage when Hannah tries to donate some clothes to Genna’s mother:

It’s ok that Hannah wants to help me, but I don’t need her to help my family. I don’t need her to put clothes on my back, and I definitely don’t need her to dress my mother. Sometimes people give you things, and they don’t know when to stop. They give too much, ’cause they want to fix all your problems, but sometimes you got to fix your own problems, your own kind of way. Hanna’s already paying me, and that’s what I said.

Additional Thoughts: Be sure to stop by tomorrow: Zetta Elliott will be here with an article on diversity in YA!

Rating:

Ana: 8 – Excellent

Thea: 8 – Excellent

Reading Next: How I Live Now by Meg Rosoff

Title: Sisters Red

Author: Jackson Pearce

Genre: YA/UF

Publisher: Hodder Children’s Book/ Little, Brown
Publication Date: June 2010
Hardcover: 352 pages

The story of Scarlett and Rosie March, two highly-skilled sisters who have been hunting Fenris (werewolves) – who prey on teen girls – since Scarlett lost her eye years ago while defending Rosie in an attack. Scarlett lives to destroy the Fenris, and she and Rosie lure them in with red cloaks (a colour the wolves can’t resist), though Rosie hunts more out of debt to her sister than drive.

But things seem to be changing. The wolves are getting stronger and harder to fight, and there has been a rash of news reports about countless teenage girls being brutally murdered in the city. Scarlett and Rosie soon discover the truth: wolves are banding together in search of a Potential Fenris – a man tainted by the pack but not yet fully changed. Desperate to find the Potential to use him as bait for a massive werewolf extermination, the sisters move to the city with Silas, a young woodsman and long time family friend who is deadly with an axe. Meanwhile, Rosie finds herself drawn to Silas and the bond they share not only drives the sisters apart, but could destroy all they’ve worked for.

Stand alone or series: Book 1 in the Sisters Red series.

How did we get this book: We got ARCs from Little, Brown.

Why did we read this book: We have been waiting to read this book for ages – the cover is striking and the we are always up for a fairytale retelling.

Ana’s take:

Listen.

I could tell you that for the first pages of this book I was completely engrossed in the story. How could I not? I mean, a dark, violent even, retelling of Red Riding Hood in which two sisters are the hunters who kill the wolves? I am in. It helps that the first pages were very gripping: back in the past when the kids lived with their grandmother and were attacked by a passing werewolf and Scarlett, the oldest sister, protects the younger Rosie almost to her own death losing an eye in the fight and becoming scarred for life. Then, as teenagers they fall in the roles that they have taken for themselves that day: Scarlett, the protector, Rosie the protégée – both equally fierce Hunters but with a striking difference. Scarlett sees nothing but the hunt, Rosie wants something else for her life.

I could tell you that I like the prose. But also that the tale and the alternating chapters between the two sisters get repetitive very soon. I could tell you that when the next door neighbour, a woodsman-hunter named Silas comes back to town that I knew Rosie would fall for him and that their story was actually quite sweet.

I could definitely tell you that part of what makes me like the book to begin with is the fact that making the two girls the ones who go after the werewolves to kill them is rather an empowering take on the original tale.

I could tell you all that.

But what I really want to tell you is: when I hit page 108 (of the ARC) I went nuts. You see, it is part of this retelling that the werewolves are predators who are after young, pretty girls. As part of their hunting routine, Rosie will dress up, put on make-up and perfume (because she usually doesn’t do that as she is a “natural beauty”). Obviously, Scarlett, being the ugly, scarred sister, just sits back to attack when Rosie has played the role of prey. So, page 108. Scarlett is outside a nightclub observing the girls in the queue to get in:

They’re adorned in glittery green rhinestones, shimmery turquoise and aquamarine powders streaked across their eyelids. Dragonfly girls. Their hair is all the same, long and streaked, spiralling down their backs to where the tiny strings holding their tops on are knotted tightly. Their skin glows under the neon lights – amber, ebony, cream – like shined metal, flawless and smooth. I press harder against the crumbly brick wall behind me, tugging my crimson cloak closer to my body. The scars on my shoulders show through fabric when I pull the cloak tight. Bumpy red hills in perfectly spaced lines.

The Dragonflies laugh, sweet, and bubbly, and I groan in exasperation. They toss their hair, stretch their legs, sway their hips, bat their eyes at the club’s bouncer, everything about them luring the Fenris. Inviting danger like some baby animal bleating its fool head off. Look at me, see how I dance, did you notice my hair, look again, desire me, I am perfect. Stupid, stupid Dragonflies. Here I am, saving your lives, bitten and scarred and wounded for you, and you don’t even know it. I should let the Fenris have one of you.

No, I didn’t mean that. I sigh and walk to the other side of the brick wall, letting my fingers tangle in the thick ivy. It’s dark on this side, shadowed from the neon lights of the street. I breathe slowly, watching the tree limbs sway, backlit by the lights of skyscrapers. Of course I didn’t mean it. Ignorance is no reason to die. They can’t help what they are, still happily unaware inside a cave of fake shadows. They exist in a world that’s beautiful normal, where people have jobs and dreams that don’t involve a hatcher. My world is parallel universe to their – the same sights, same people, same city, yet the Fenris lurk, the evil creeps, the knowledge undeniably exists. If I hadn’t been thrown into this world, I could just as easily have been a Dragonfly.

I felt extremely uncomfortable with this passage, but as much as this is some serious twisted thinking, I can understand Scarlett feeling this way. She is an angry character, full of regret, jealousy – and being scarred and ugly does get to her (seeing as how she keeps going on and on about it). So, the text above is in keeping with this character.

BUT

Two lines down and Silas joins her as she observes him:

His eyes narrow in something between disgust and intrigue, as though he’s not certain if he likes looking at them or not. I want to comment, but I stay quiet. Somehow it feels important to wait for his reaction. Silas finally turns to look at me in the shadows.

“It’s like they’re trying to be eaten, isn’t it? he asks pointedly.

“Can I tell you how glad I am that and Rosie aren’t like them?”

“No kidding.” I grin, relieved. “Rosie could be if she wanted, though. She’s beautiful like they are.”

“Beauty has nothing to do with it. Rosie could never be one of them. Do you really think they’d dress and act like that if they knew it was drawing wolves toward them?”

No. NO. NO. NO. NO. JUST NO.

By then, I was beyond uncomfortable, I was downright angry. The meta is thus: the girls should know better. If they knew better, they would change their behaviour and would not be attacked. This is what I read. But this is not what I should be reading.

NEVER, EVER blame the victims. The blame always, always lies with the criminal (or predator).

And just like that I am done with the book. Because I can’t respect the characters who think like this, because I lost respect for their motivation for being hunters (it’s not about REALLY about protecting the girls is it? It is almost about proving a point) and if I can’t relate with their plight then the book is nothing to me. Because the bottom line is this: the book empowers women yes, but ONLY certain types of girls, not all of them. And I am sick and tired of books that associate girls that are self-confident and beautiful with being shallow and superficial and deserving of bad things happening to them. SICK AND TIRED.

That is not ok. And I suggest you read the article in this link to see why exactly I think it is not ok.

I did read till the bitter end in the hopes that another character would come in and say: “yo, stewpid, GET A GRIP” but alas, no such thing has happened. I can’t even be bothered to rate this book. I will only say:

Verdict:

Thea’s Take:

Clearly, Ana feels VERY strongly about this book, especially about the excerpt above. Now, I’ll admit that when I first read this passage, I didn’t immediately see what Ana picked up on. I tend to get annoyed with flitty girls in general, and Scarlett’s anger at the “dragonflies” seems well-founded and in line with her character, regardless of whether I liked her character or not. As a scarred, bitter young woman dedicated to destroying all Fenris at any cost, this sort of thought process makes perfect sense for someone like Scarlett.

But then, after Ana pointed out the next section, it made me think about the overall message…and I stand firmly with Ana. Enraged.

Just because a girl is pretty, and likes to look pretty; just because a girl goes out to the club in revealing clothes; just because a girl likes the attention that comes with being young and attractive, this DOES NOT MEAN she is stupid, or a whore, or fucking “asking for it” (pardon my French, but this is a disgusting mindset and pisses me off to no end). It is frustrating – no, infuriating – beyond belief that the women in Sisters Red are so stereotyped and marginalized. Don’t get me wrong – I love warrior women/strong women/badass fighter women, as much as the next person. But this gross generalization that girls that go out to have fun and be noticed are somehow billions of times inferior to their too-tough-to-look-pretty (but OF COURSE are effortlessly gorgeous *eyes rolling*) counterparts?

Nu-uh. Not cool.

Now, you might be telling yourself, ‘well, these two seem to be taking a single passage a bit far’ or something to that end. Well, folks, unfortunately Sisters Red has a whole lot of other problems too.

1: The characters are mind-numbingly repetitive and boring.

Initially, I found a lot to like with Sisters Red. The opening scene with Grandma valiantly holding off the big bad wolf to save the children, and then Scarlett’s desperate last stand to save Rosie, is EPIC. I loved that Scarlett is abrasive and tough, that she’s missing an eye and is both terrified of the wolves, yet completely in love with the hunt. I love that Rosie is a different person – that she cannot remember the past too clearly, and that she clearly loves Lett, but needs to grow to be her own person.

BUT. All of this? All this promising characterization is exhausted in the first thirty or so pages of the book. From then on it is more of. the. same. Scarlett gets mad at Rosie for being careless. Scarlett goes hunting for Fenris. Scarlett gets mad again and wallows in her pit of eternal self-suffering. Meanwhile, Rosie wants to be taken seriously (and thinks Silas is freaking HAWT). But she wants to be taken seriously. She tries to make peace with Scarlett (and Silas is HAWT). And so on and so forth.

Things get pretty dull, pretty quickly. These characters never felt real to me – more like your standard cardboard stand-ins. (Just because characters are “troubled” doesn’t immediately mean they are well-developed. SHOW me. Don’t keep TELLING me.)

2: The “Romance” is the same predictable uninspired tripe.

From the second Rosie sees Silas, and vice versa, it’s all “he looks different, his jaw is so angular and manly!” and “she looks different, all ‘grown up’ and beautiful!” (I’m paraphrasing of course). To be honest, I’m sick of it. Could this book just have been about the sisters without one of them needing the catalyst of falling in love with the studly boy next door? ARGH.

Of course, this could just be me and how burned out I am with YA paranormal romance. Lots of people love this stuff. I, unfortunately, am at the end of my rope.

3: The hunting element of the story is STUPID.

*Caps lock engaged* WHY THE HELL WOULD THESE SISTERS BE HUNTING WITH HATCHETS AS OPPOSED TO…I don’t know…GUNS?!??? If Scarlett’s true ambition is to take out every single “Fenris” on the planet, wouldn’t it make sense to take out a bunch of them with a semi-automatic weapon, as opposed to the good ol’ woodsman hatchet technique? And while scampering around in a blood red cloak is awesome and all, this book doesn’t exist in a vacuum. The story takes place in MODERN DAY. The red riding hood cloaks, while they go great with the idea of the story, aren’t exactly…congruous with the time period. (Not to mention, you’d think the stupid wolves would remember two chicks – one with an eyepatch – hunting around not-so-incognito in bright red cloaks)

Also, in my opinion the term “Fenris” is stupid. Is it plural? Singular? Yeah, yeah, I get that it derives from Fenrir – but “Fenris” just looks stupid and forced to me. If you’re going with Norse mythology, stick with the root name. (That is, if you’re not going with the more familiar “werewolf” terminology, which doesn’t make sense in the first place given how much more prevalent “werewolf” is in modern vernacular!)

These were my issues with Sisters Red – which arose long before the club scene – and they were enough to make me put down the book.

Verdict: DNF – Life is too short to force myself to finish books that don’t work for me.

You want a good Red Riding Hood retelling? Stick with Bill Willingham’s Fables series. Now THAT has solid characterizations, a plot that won’t quit, and empowered characters – both male and female.

Reading next: A Wish After Midnight by Zetta Elliott

Title: Fat Vampire – A Never Coming of Age Story

Author: Adam Rex

Genre: YA – Paranormal

Publisher: Balzer + Bray
Publication date: July 27 2010
Hardcover: 336 pages

Doug Lee is undead quite by accident—attacked by a desperate vampire, he finds himself cursed with being fat and fifteen forever. When he has no luck finding some goth chick with a vampire fetish, he resorts to sucking the blood of cows under cover of the night. But it’s just not the same.

Then he meets the new Indian exchange student and falls for her—hard. Yeah, he wants to bite her, but he also wants to prove himself to her. But like the laws of life, love, and high school, the laws of vampire existence are complicated—it’s not as easy as studying Dracula. Especially when the star of Vampire Hunters is hot on your trail in an attempt to boost ratings.…

Leave it to Adam Rex to create a thought-provoking novel that takes on teen angst, sexuality, identity, love, and undeath in ways that break it out of the genre.

Stand alone or series: Stand alone

How did we get this book: We both got signed ARCs at BEA

Why did we read this book: Because the cover looks awesome, the blurb sounded hilarious – and it didn’t hurt that the author was pretty nice in person too.

Review:

First Thoughts and Impressions:

Ana: First of all, I need to get something off my chest: the cover, the blurb of this book are completely misleading. This book is far from being the breezy comedic novel that it promises to be. Having said that, what IS this book? A mess. It starts out well enough, with a sympathetic protagonist then it is downhill soon enough once same protagonist turns out to be a complete, unrepentant douchebag. I carried on and ended up with the feeling that I either read the most craptastic book ever or a very brilliant one. After a few days letting it sink in, I fall somewhere in between – I do think the book has brilliant ideas but the execution is very flawed and in the end, I did not enjoy reading it, at all.

Thea: I think I have to disagree with Ana on this one! At least, in my opinion of the book, if not with the interpretation of its content. Yes, Fat Vampire is not some breezy comedic romp following an overweight vampire boy in his search for love, though the cover and synopsis speak to that angle. But as I read the book, I found myself entertained and rather intrigued with Adam Rex’s choices with the direction of the novel. This is much more of a black comedy; a character study, following a protagonist that is neither a hero nor a victim. He’s a selfish, flawed, unlikable character (yes, even a douchebag, as Ana says above)…but I kinda like that Adam Rex goes there. This is a bold, intriguing book – and I gotta say, I liked it.

On the plot:

Ana: 15 year old Doug Lee has been accidently bitten by a vampire which means that he will be stuck as a teenager – and a fat, unattractive one – forever. If that wasn’t enough, Doug can’t quite get the being a vampire thing right: does he get to transform into bats? If so, how exactly does one do that? Then, there is the feeding part of it and Doug has been drinking mostly from cows so far until the gets the first taste of human blood. Meanwhile, a new exchange student arrives from India. Senjal has The Google an addiction to the Internet that caused a tragic incident back home and something that she wants to put past her in this new life in America. Add to that a TV show called Vampire Hunters, whose anchor is bent on finding a real vampire and you have the plot of Fat Vampire.

What strikes me the most about Fat Vampire is how the book doesn’t seem to have a driving plot. Things happen seemly at random and some of the plotlines appear and disappear throughout the novel. I am never sure about the worldbuilding (as Thea will tell you below) or about the characters (but I guess that was the whole point). To me, it reads as though the story is an excuse to make a point and the point seems to be: being a vampire is not all that is cracked up to be. Imagine being stuck looking like a teenager forever and one that doesn’t even look good. It seems to make fun of the majority of the current paranormal YA where vampires are eternally beautiful and hot. It definitely points out to something else as well: feeding, drinking blood from humans – how does that affect a person? These points are definitely part of what could be described as being brilliant – coupled that with the ending and the book could have been great if it wasn’t for the sloppy writing and the horrible characters.

Thea: From a pure plotting perspective, Fat Vampire is somewhat lacking (and I think this is my main criticism of the book). It’s been a month since Doug has been turned into a vampire, and the book follows Doug as he gets used to the vampire lifestyle (the pros and cons of feeding from animals versus humans), his changing friendships, his vampire mentors, and as he tries to avoid the team of reality tv vampire killers. Fat Vampire has a minor mystery element mixed with a dash of suspense as the reality tv guys close in on Doug, but these plotting elements aren’t particularly developed (or even convincing). The mystery in particular is pathetically transparent, and there are a number of elements strewn haphazardly throughout the book that are of absolutely no significance (werewolves? “The Google”?). But that’s not really what Fat Vampire is all about. This is much more of a book about characters – ugly characters, mind you, but characters nonetheless.

If the plotting left something to be desired, the same could be said for Mr. Rex’s writing. Clearly, this author has a great knack for characterization (more on that in a bit) and has a great dark comedic perspective…but Fat Vampire left me wanting in the storytelling and world-defining department. The alternating points of view were a little messy, and the suspense of the reality tv vamp hunters insignificant and, well, boring. The thing that irked me the most, however, was how ill-defined supernatural creatures and their place in this world was. Doug is a vampire, and there are other vampires present, but it’s never really clear if this is some parallel universe where everyone knows vampires (and werewolves too – a completely extraneous race of supernatural creature thrown in the mix for no discernible purpose) exist, or if Doug’s world is more like our own (i.e. we know what vampires are, but they don’t exist). The presence of a “reality” tv show about vampires seems to suggest that folks in this book do accept the existence of vamps as common knowledge, but the reactions of the human characters speak to the contrary.

That said – I think the climactic final scene is BRILLIANT, as is the ending. Brilliant…It’s just a shame that it was so awkward getting to that point.

On the characters:

Thea: Ahh, here is where Fat Vampire pulls its weight (sorry, lame pun). As I said above, this book is much more of a character piece. The voices for each of the characters are beautifully detailed and distinct; there are point of view shifts in the book, but they never are confusing – because Sejal’s voice and thought process sounds completely different from Doug’s. But, while I loved Sejal’s flowy cadence and descriptions, really, the book is all about Doug.

“I think…I think sometimes you think you’re the hero of the story, and sometimes you think you’re the victim,” said the voice. “But you’re not either.”

As Ana will tell you, protagonist Doug is not the nicest dude. In fact, he’s kind of a huge doucher – a terrible friend, homophobic, self-entitled, and utterly, ridiculously, self-absorbed. But the thing is…we all have known people like this. Doug’s selfishness, whether it be result of a physiologically underdeveloped region of the brain or simple psychology, rings true. His inner narrative, his justifications for the way he behaves – his decision to compliment people to make himself look better, for example – make sense and fall in line with his calculating character. More believable than anything else, Doug manages to convince himself that his justifications are infallible (with someone this ego-centric, the possibility of being wrong never crosses his mind).

But the even more interesting and thought-provoking questions is: how much of what transpires (Doug’s behavior and choices, etc) in the book is because he’s a selfish, flawed human, and how much is it because he’s a vampire? Certainly, Doug’s attitude and his decisions change over the course of the book – indeed, early in the novel there seems to be some redeemable spark to Doug (for example, when he honestly admits to his best friend Jay that he’s sorry he’s not a better friend). But as the book continues and Doug’s vampirism becomes more intense and ingrained, Doug’s actions rapidly head downhill. What I love here is the ambiguity – and the metaphor of what vampirism could mean for humanity. Are vampires – or any supernatural creatures – truly the evil, soulless monsters of paranormal lore? Or are they simply flawed human creatures with superhuman abilities? If one had the ability to hypnotize others, drink their blood and become preternaturally strong and nearly immortal, wouldn’t they abuse these powers? Is that evil…or human nature? Does Doug try to justify his actions BECAUSE he thinks himself a monster? With Doug and mentor Stephan as reference points, this is a very, very interesting quandary.

That’s the stuff of classic horror, dudes. And, intentional or accidental, I loved how Fat Vampire poses these subconscious questions by virtue of its characters.

Ana: This quote is quite possibly the most important quote of the entire book, and it happens right in the first few pages too:

“I think…I think sometimes you think you’re the hero of the story, and sometimes you think you’re the victim,” said the voice. “But you’re not either.”

I didn’t pay enough attention to it and I wonder if I had, if my reading of the book would have been different.

Because, friendly readers, this book was hard to read. At first, I actually really liked Doug and his struggle with being a vampire and a teen at the same time. But little by little, things change to worse – just like Thea points out. The more Doug reveals himself, the less I like him and I felt myself lost – isn’t he supposed to be the hero of this piece? (see what I mean, where paying attention to that quote would have helped me?). At one point, I felt like throwing the book against a wall and that was when Doug’s homophobia became too much to bear:

He didn’t think he really had much of an opinion about gay people. He didn’t know why. Except maybe Ophelia, now. If anything, he was possibly a little sick of them. They were always popping up in shows and movies and in books he read. They used to be comic relief, but at some point it was like you weren’t allowed to laugh anymore, and the gay characters were Very Serious. Their whole character would be about them being gay, and how serious and unfunny and also completely normal it was. In each new book, especially there seemed to be one or two. Like the author wanted to prove what an open-minded, big-tent guy he was.

I actually had to stop reading and breathe in and out. It helps that then I read an interview with the author in which he says:

I did sort of write a treatise on douchebaggery.

Yes, he did. The point then as a reader, is to decide how this information impacts on your reading. I get what Thea says about the horror, for example and the subconscious questions this book asks and I agree with her. Those are all good.

This is also about characters being flawed and realistic because let’s face it, the world is full of homophobic, selfish douchebags. But the decision I make, as a reader is this: at the end of the day I just don’t feel like reading about them. This is very much a personal, subjective reaction to the book and I am clear about that.

I did love Sejal though – her keen observation of America, her openness to try different things (even possibly sexual experimentation with same sex characters) , her guilt about what The Google caused her. She was a fabulous counterpoint to Doug and perhaps even the real hero of the piece.

Final Thoughts, Observation and Rating:

Ana: Objectively speaking, there is something about Fat Vampire which makes it sort of good, in a very weird way, in spite of lacklustre plotting and unlikeable main character. Subjectively speaking, I didn’t like it, didn’t enjoy reading it for most part.

Thea: Maybe this book won’t appeal to everyone – especially for folks that want a traditional story, with traditional heroes and villains. And objectively, the weak plotting and world-building do not do Fat Vampire any favors. But, there’s a BUT! The awesome ending, the strength of the characters (whether you like them or not is irrelevant) and the questions that the book poses are so tantalizing that I can’t help but be pleased overall. I recommend Fat Vampire, but only for the informed reader that doesn’t mind the douchebagery and lackluster plotting.

Notable Quotes/Parts: From Chapter 1:

My Dork Embrace

DOUG SAID, “Hi,” and the girl turned. The perfect girl with red hair and a nearly empty cup of yellow beer turned and looked at him. He tried to relax his eyes, take all of her in at once—the blue belly shirt, the bottomless cleavage—without appearing to ogle. He didn’t know her or practically anyone else at the party. She didn’t know him. She wouldn’t have any reason not to talk to him.

She found a reason. Look—it was all there on her face. She’d seen through his disguise—the hair gel, the too-tight shirt from Apparel Conspiracy. He was a completely surprising form of life, something that should not be at a party, shouldn’t be addressing her. A gorilla maybe, frantically signing Koko want kitten. Koko want kitten.

“What?” she said. Not superinviting.

“Hey. I’m Doug.”

She seemed hesitant to give her name, like she might get it back with gunk on it. But then, “Carrie. My friend’s coming right back.”

“That’s . . . cool. So what school do you go to?” he asked. Not that he knew any schools in San Diego.

“Garfield,” said the girl, but as she did so she arched her neck to look over his shoulder. Her long, soft, beautiful neck. Koko want kitten.

“It’s . . . kind of crowded in here,” said Doug. “Don’t you think? You want to go outside? Get some fresh air?”

“I’m waiting for my friend,” said the girl. And then her whole posture relaxed, and a sudden brightness in her eyes told Doug that she’d just seen this friend, the friend was close, like the friend had just pressed the button on her key chain that made the headlights flash and the locks pop.

“Just for a second,” said Doug. “Really quick. I want to show you something.”

“Ew.”

“No, it’s not like . . . Just trust me . . . Come outside . . . It’s totally amazing . . .”

The friend was back. The friend was right there, and Doug heard himself say, “I’m a vampire.”

Both girls stared at him for an airless moment, possibly deciding how they were going to take this. Funny or Scary? Funny or Scary?

“A creature of the night,” Doug continued. “Cursed like Cain to wander—”

“Aren’t you a little fat for a vampire?” asked the friend.

Funny it is, then. Doug sighed. “I guess.”

You can read the full excerpt, along with the first 70 pages of the text, online HERE using HarperTeen’s awesome Browse Inside feature.

Additional Thoughts Check out the official book trailer:

Rating:

Ana: 5 – take it or leave it

Thea: 6 – Good, Recommend with Reservations

Reading Next: Sisters Red by Jackson Pearce

Title: Peter and Max – A Fables Novel

Author: Bill Willingham (writer) / Steve Leialoha (illustrator)

Genre: Fantasy

Publisher: Vertigo
Publication Date: October 2009
Hardcover: 400 pages

This story stars Peter Piper and his incorrigible brother Max in a tale about jealousy, betrayal and revenge. Set in two distinct time periods, prepare to travel back to medieval times and learn the tragic back-story of the Piper family, a medieval-era family of traveling minstrels. Then, jump into the present to follow a tale of espionage as Peter Piper slowly hunts down his evil brother for a heinous crime, pitting Peter’s talents as a master thief against Max’s dark magical powers.

Based on the long-running and award-winning comic book series FABLES, PETER AND MAX is its own tale. Readers don’t have to be familiar with the comics to fully enjoy and understand this book.

Stand alone or series: This is a stand alone novel which is part of the Fables’ comics universe.

How did we get this book: Bought

Why did we get this book: Because we absolutely ADORE Fables.

Review:

First Thoughts and Impressions:

Ana: Ah, Fables. How I love thee. I have to thank my esteemed Smuggler half for introducing me to the comics, because they are absolutely brilliant. I love fairytale retellings anyway, but Bill Willingham goes a bit further than that by not only retelling but reimagining and spinning the tales by making them his own. Peter and Max is another example of this and in spite of a few caveats, I really loved reading it.

Thea: It should probably come as no surprise that I am also a huge Fables fan – even with the slight dropoff after defeating The Adversary, this is STILL one of the finest monthly comics out there. So, when we learned that a strictly prose – well, dominantly prose – novel was coming out set in the Fables universe, of course Ana and I scooped up Peter and Max with alacrity (although we were somewhat slower in actually getting it reviewed). And, I am delighted to say that in the realm of prose fiction, Bill Willingham still manages to kick ass. Though there are a few uneven sections (probably better told with the graphic combination of art and writing), Peter and Max delivers, and is as darkly enchanting as its comic-form sibling.

On the Plot:

Ana: Peter and Max tells the story of two siblings, Peter and Max Piper, sons of a travelling family of minstrels and it alternates between past and present narrating how the two eventually become enemies. In present day, Peter and his wife Bo Peep are residents of Fabletown, living their quiet lives apart from the rest of the Fables due to Bo’s condition (a terrible spell who crippled her legs) when one day, Peter is informed that his evil brother Max has surfaced in the world and he sets out to find and finally face him off.

In the past, back in the homelands, we see Peter and Max’s childhood traveling around and playing with their mother and father, and their friendship with the Peep family, especially the link between young Peter and their youngest daughter Bo who vows to marry Peter one day. Peter is the gifted younger brother who inherits Frost, a magical flute and a family heirloom which Max fully expected to have for himself. The petty jealousy and sibling rivalry spirals out of control after the Adversary’s invasion of the homelands when the Pipers and the Peeps flee through the Black Forest where they are all separated. Max ends up with a pipe of his own and eventually becomes the infamous Pied Piper of Hamelin.

Plot-wise, Peter and Max is genius. It combines two children’s nursery rhymes, Peter Piper’s (who does eat pickled peppers) and Bo Peep’s (who does lose her sheep) with the tale of the Pied Piper of Hamelin flawlessly and brilliantly. The back and forth between past and present is done really well, and it builds up tension perfectly until the final showdown (although that face off is slightly anticlimactic in its execution). The details that Bill Willingham infuses the story with are also very clever from the fairytale romance between Bo and Peter, other characters appearances such as Frau Totenkinder’s or the fact that Frost’s has the ability to avert danger but can that only be used three times in its owner’s life. It is all very fairytale-ish both in writing and in format reminding me of old tales but of the very dark variety.

I cannot fault the plot of this book, I was enraptured by it and devoured the book in one sitting.

Thea: I have to wholeheartedly agree with Ana. Part of the sheer brilliance of the Fables series is in the ways that Bill Willingham finds to integrate familiar nursery rhyme fables into his dark, epic saga. This has become a popular trope as of late – what with Urban Fantasists, Paranormal Romanticists, etc taking iconic mythological figures and plopping them into modern times – but Bill Willingham’s take on fables, living amongst Mundys, fighting against a truly terrifying foe, and (most dangerously and importantly of all) trying to coexist with each other, is a class above the rest. In Peter and Max, Willingham takes a few lesser nursery rhymes – Bo Peep, Peter Piper, and the Pied Piper of Hamelin – and twists a heartwrenching story of sibling rivalry, betrayal, love, and magic across centuries.

Since Ana’s already covered the basics, I will just add a few specific points of interest. I loved the integration of these three fables together – how Bo really loses her sheep (it’s not pretty), how Peter eats the pickled peppers (and also hides his wife in a pumpkin shell later), and how most delightfully depraved of all, the Pied Piper Max leads the rats and children out of Hamelin for his own dark purposes. More than the simple nursery rhymes, however, Mr. Willingham also creates a backstory that fuels Max and Peter’s rivalry in the form of Frost, a magical pipe from a slain foe, that is both a magical gift and a curse for all the Piper family members that wield it. There’s a war story in the background, a court of thieves and assassins, another magical flute named Fire, and a background of bloody revenge. (I don’t want to get into too many specifics, lest I spoil some of the story’s reveals!)

As a reader of the comics, I think the thing that impressed me most about Peter and Max, however, was a different side to some of our favorite “heroic” fables. Since all fables were granted general amnesty for past villainous acts once they sign the Fabletown charter, we’ve seen all of these characters work together toward a common goal. Bigby Wolf is seen as a hero, as is Frau Totenkinder and assorted other reformed villains…but in Peter and Max, we see how truly terrible some of these characters were back in the homeland. And…it’s a pretty cool, sobering contrast.

Finally, I think we should at least address Steve Leialoha’s artwork – which is kind of in the style of Dave McKean’s work in Coraline (the book, not P. Craig Russell’s graphic novel adaptation) and The Graveyard Book. What can I say except, bravo? Although I think I prefer Mark Buckingham’s representations ever-so-slightly, Leialoha’s work is gorgeous and fitting for Peter and Max – slightly disney-cartoonish, but with a darker, ink-heavy edge.

On the Characters:

Ana: Now, this is where I take a step back to say that as much as I loved the plot of the novel, something was missing. Whereas plot and setting are brilliantly done in a very clever way, the author never really fully, explores the characters in depth. Let’s face it, the original takes are basically short narratives, that TELL rather than SHOW a story. I love them, of course, growing up as I did, listening to grandpa reading them to. The reason is why retellings speak to me in such a wonderful way is because most of the retellings I have read explore and take character’s motivation further, deeper than the originals. It is a great opportunity for authors to play with themes and stories and sometimes make them even better.

Yes, a Retelling but really, for it to work it should also be a Re-showing and I feel that Bill Willingham passed on this opportunity here. For example, Max’s turn from troubled teenage to EVIIIIIIL Villain, quite jarringly, happened without cause in the space of a few lines. Similarly in the grand finale, there was nothing from an emotional point of view to make it grander and more impacting. Also, once the families are separated, peter becomes a thief and basically forgets about his mother for example. What in the world happened to her?

That is not to say that some of the characters don’t have depth – I particularly liked Bo, for example, becoming an assassin (you have to read it) and how she uses her condition to try and dissuade Peter from going after his brother. It is ugly and it is dark but also very human, I though (which is strange to say, since these characters are not really human).

Thea: I’m a little torn here too. I have to agree with Ana in that Max’s transformation from petty jealousy to EVIL MONSTER was a bit abrupt (this takes place over approximately a paragraph of text) – reminding me of the somewhat anticlimactic reveal of Anakin crossing over to embrace the Dark Side in Revenge of the Sith. I would have loved it if the transformation was more subtle, told over a longer time period. This was the one time that I felt Mr. Willingham’s writing was limited by its lack of supporting art to help tell the story. Whereas this shorter time frame could have been more convincing with the incredibly gifted Steve Leialoha completing full panels to accompany the story, instead it felt slightly jarring and unbelievable in the brevity and totality of Max’s transformation.

The other quibble I have with regards to characterization concerns Peter himself – who is a tad bit Too Good. You know what I mean? He’s a loving younger brother, a patient husband, the best flute player in all of the land, etc, etc. In contrast, Bo -with her very human manipulations, as Ana mentions – feels much more real and concrete a character.

But then…there’s also Max. Abrupt transformation aside, Max is pretty damn awesome, and his corruption basically makes the book. One of my favorite scenes is when Max stumbles across an elderly couple in the woods and forces them to do his bidding. All the while, Max’s pettiness and sense of over-importance characterizes his narrative, and later when he has to rely only on himself…well, it’s great stuff. I loved it, plain and simple.

Final Thoughts, Observation and Rating:

Ana: I really enjoyed, heck, I can say that I did love Peter and Max but I feel that I could have adored it. In comics format, the story might have worked splendidly because you would have the aid of the images to convey more feeling but this first foray into prose format was missing that extra awesomesauce to make it a Keeper.

Thea: While I agree with Ana, and I do think that certain parts of the story in particular could have benefited from full-fledged accompanying artwork, for the vast majority of the book Peter and Max stands strong on its own. Mr. Willingham’s storytelling abilities are in top form here, and this is a book that should be devoured by any Fables fan or newbie alike.*

*On a continuity note, this book fits in shortly before Fabletown’s attack on The Adversary – and Peter and Bo both play a role in the war by the end of the book. You’ll see.

Notable Quotes/Parts:

For most of his long years Peter Piper wanted
nothing more than to live a life of peace and safety in some
remote cozy cottage, married to his childhood sweetheart,
who grew into the only woman he could ever love. Which is pretty
much what happened. But there were complications along the way,
as there often are, because few love stories are allowed to be just that
and nothing else.

(…)

Our tale, the one that couldn’t quite remain a simple love story,
begins then in Fabletown and almost immediately moves up to the
Farm. It happens because a witch learned something that she told to
a beast, who phoned a wolf, who in turn called his wife’s twin
sister, who never was a princess but perhaps should have been.

And here are two samples of Steve Leialoha’s art (by the way, how great is that name – Lei + Aloha? Someone likes Hawaii!):

Rating:

Ana: 7 – Very Good

Thea: 7 -Very Good

Reading Next: Fat Vampire by Adam Rex

Title: Crossing Over

Author: Anna Kendall

Genre: Fantasy, Young Adult

Publisher: Gollancz YA
Publication Date: June 2010
Hardcover: 352 pages

Whether it’s a curse or a blessing the fact remains: whenever Roger is in enough pain he can cross over to the Land of the Dead and speak to the people there. It’s an unexpected gift – and one that, throughout Roger’s life, his violent uncle has taken advantage of. Roger has been hauled from fairground to fairground, and beaten into unconsciousness, in order to bring word of the dead to the recently bereaved. It’s a hard, painful way of life, deceiving the living for a crust of bread. So when Roger has the chance of a new life, it seems a gift. He has a chance at safety and at living a life of his choosing, tucked away in the royal court. But life is unexpected, and when Roger falls in love with the bewitching, willful Lady Cecilia he has no idea what he is letting himself in for. With every step he takes towards her, he is drawn deeper into court intrigue, into politics, and even into war . . . . . . and when Roger’s curious abilities come to the Queen’s attention, everything changes forever. Trapped in courtly politics, bound by secrets, Roger is torn between his own safety and that of his friends. He can save them . . . but only if he can bring himself to perform a deed so unthinkable that the living and the dead shrink from it alike. . .

Stand alone or series: Book one in a planned series

How did we get this book: ARCs from the publisher

Why did we read this book: We are fans of Gollancz and their impressive lineup of SF/F/H, so when we learned they were about to launch a young adult line of speculative fiction titles, we were ecstatic! Crossing Over is the third title from the imprint.

REVIEW:

First Thoughts and Impressions:

Thea: At first blush, Crossing Over is a book of solidly awesome ideas – a boy that can walk between the realms of the living and the dead finds himself a valuable gambit in the future of a queendom on the brink of civil war. While I loved the concepts of the book and the general direction of the story, I could not help but feel immensely disappointed with the actual execution of the novel. The writing amateur – at times unintentionally hilarious, at times incredibly repetitive – and the characters ill-defined. To me, Crossing Over is a novel with brilliant promise, marred by its sadly lackluster delivery.

Ana: Once again, unfortunately, I will have to echo Thea’s thoughts. I had a very similar experience with Crossing Over, starting with excitement over its potential based on a great premise and ending in disappointment. The biggest problem for me was not the writing or the plotting (although I had issues with both) but the fact that I did not care for the characters, not even the protagonist.

On the Plot:

Ana: Roger is an orphaned boy living with his aunt and no-good uncle Hartah. Ever since Roger can remember he can cross to the land of the Dead but he is only able to do that when in pain, which works just fine for his abusive uncle. The family travels from faire to faire making their living with Roger communicating with the dead and passing on messages –sometimes made up – to their families. One day, Hartah decides to take part in the wrecking of a ship but this is a fatal decision and in its aftermath, Roger is taken prisoner and then sent to the court of Queendom where he will work for one of the two duelling Queens, who recognises the preciousness of his ability. There Roger will grow up, fall in love whilst getting in the middle of witch hunting, politics and court intrigue. At the centre of it all, the mysterious story of infamous Soulvine Moor, where his mother died and where he has vowed to go one day to search for her soul.

I quite enjoyed the plot of the novel – or rather, the elements of the plot. To start with the idea of the land of the Dead as a place that mimics the location of the living and where souls are restful and soon after death lose touch with previous life. This means, that for example every time Roger crosses he is limited by both time and location – if someone died far away from where he is for example chances are he won’t find that soul unless he crosses over close to that same location. Similarly if someone died months or even days before, that soul would be in peace and not able to converse which adds a very specific time frame for him to cross over and talk to someone; but also it is an interesting piece of information he does not usually share with others that are trying to exploiting it and he uses it to his advantage.

On top of that, I am a sucker for political intrigue such as the one going on in Queendom and the (still unsolved) mystery of Soulvine Moor was very intriguing. However, these are all plotlines that are interesting on their own but they don’t quite work well when all put together or in the way they are executed.

Everything moves way too fast and the author never spends a lot of time examining or exploring these points in depth. When I thought I was going to get the hang of Queendom for example, Roger moves away from the court in a Quest for his One True Love. It also doesn’t help that up until making this one (stupid) decision, Roger stumbles his way around mostly as an observer that is a rant for the next section.

Thea: I love the IDEA of the plot – as Ana says, there are many wonderful threads here, the fate of a queendom, Roger’s past and true abilities/destiny, the mystery of Soulvine Moor, a romance, etc. But while all these ideas sound great and are wonderful in theory, on paper they never lived up to their full potential. No, scratch that – they never even lived up to half of their full potential. My problems with Crossing Over are twofold: the writing/execution of the story and the bland characters (I’ll get to that later).

In terms of writing style, Ms. Kendall’s book feels very much like a first novel – there’s a lot of repetition (“my mother in the lavender dress” was one I found particularly annoying), abrupt story shifts, and hastily “resolved” plot threads. For example, while so much time is spent on Roger’s many trips to the country of the dead, or in reference to clothing on courtiers, the final climactic battle scene is ridiculously rushed, and a certain key revelation about Roger’s mother is given a single sentence. Huh? I cannot tell you how much this bothers me, this lopsided, lack of story prioritization. What’s even more infuriating about the whole thing is that Ms. Kendall has excellent plot elements and story ideas here – the level of writing to convey these ideas simply isn’t there.

On the Characters:

Ana: I read the book in basically one sitting and as aforementioned I enjoyed certain aspects of the story very much but once I closed the book I had the strangest feeling and I thought about it for days after reading and the feeling was: hollowness. I felt hollow after reading this book and the reason behind this feeling is that I was unable to feel any sympathy or connection with its main character which, seeing as how his is the sole point of view in the entire book, is problematic to say the least. I didn’t like his voice or the execution of his arc and I am trying to put my finger on WHY and here are some of the reasons:

I am not sure the character sounds as a 14 year old. His voice was so uneven – at times he sounded way younger sometimes way older. At times he is capable of keen observations about all the intrigue but these are never backed up by a reasonable explanation as to how he reached that opinion other than the ubiquitous “just know”. The “just know” has recently become one of my greatest gripes when reading because to me it reeks of lazy characterisation.

At the same time that he is supposed to be a keen observer, he makes the most idiotic decisions, the greatest one is when he decides he LOVES this girl, Lady Cecilia and then follows her when she flees the court and that is the impetus for the second half of the book. The thing is I am sure we are supposed to feel for Roger and his inappropriate love but it is hard to do so when he himself describes his lady love as a childish girl. His love for her felt extremely artificial and merely an excuse to get the story moving.

And then there are the erections. *sighs*

Roger kept having erections at the sight of girls. I GET that this is a teenage boy but these came at odd times, out of nowhere and felt really jarring, almost as a way to aid establishing that he is a teenage boy. “hey look my character is a boy, he gets erections”.

The secondary characters have a similar fate. Cecilia is hardly more than a childish, flirtatious ninny and Maggie the kitchen maid (YES, another love triangle) was a little bit more interesting but she loves Roger for no reason I can think of (similar to lack of reason for why Roger loves Cecilia.)

Frustrating.

Thea: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Ahem.

I’m sorry, but I have to agree with Ana on all counts. The random erections thing really cracked me up. It should be like a drinking game or something, shouldn’t it? Oh, there Roger’s “member” goes again! SHOTGUN THAT BEER! (and that “member” joke? It’s actually in the book. He refers to his “Little Roger” as his member) I love it when teenagers in novels – YA or otherwise – are written as believable characters, and erections/sexuality is definitely part of this. I hate it when authors gloss over any mention of sex (e.g. the oddly sexless Beautiful Creatures by Kami Garcia and Margaret Stohl), but to go completely the other way and throw in the random stiffies at very strange places in the plot? This does not a genuine character make. (And if we’re talking about, I found it strange that Roger would get these erections and yet never: 1. Masturbate; 2. Suffer any of the ill effects (embarrassment or physical discomfort) of non-release – in fact, these erections seem to disappear quite suddenly (or else no one can see these boners? I don’t know).

But on a more serious note, the characters were simply…bland. Roger (a weird name choice)’s voice fluctuated and I never got a true feel for his age, as Ana mentions, but what irked me the most about his character is how disinterested he seemed in his singular ability to cross over. Given that it is the single skill that has kept him alive, he doesn’t seem all that interested in what he does or if there is any greater implications to his singular talent.

Beyond that, I, like Ana, also felt frustrated with Roger’s choices in the book – his “love” for Cecila and his strange choice to abandon the queendom in its most desperate hour to follow her (the love didn’t seem very convincing to begin with) being the most egregious of these offenses. Also, at one point in the book I’m not quite clear why Roger chooses to tell the lies he does (to those in the realm of the dead)…it was all very strange and unnecessary.

Even with the other characters in the book, I felt similarly disinterested. Cecilia, Roger’s “love” is quite beautiful, and yet also manipulative…but she’s a simpleton and possibly something else that is never explained fully? I had hopes that Cecilia might be pulling some crazy con on the Queendom, trying to wrest the crown into her own paws and playing at idiocy…and yet, that was sadly not the case. And I still don’t know what was so important about her as the medicine woman kept alluding to in the latter portions of the book.

The only character that broke this malaise was Queen Caroline – the ruthless younger queen with her dreams of taking the throne from her aging mother. But is that one character enough to save the book from its exhausting banality? Not really.

Final Thoughts, Observation and Rating:

Ana: Even though I can’t say that Crossing Over is an entirely bad book, I don’t think I can say that it is a good book either. I finished it feeling underwhelmed and unimpressed, and I don’t think I have enough reasons for picking up the sequel.

Thea: I have to echo Ana’s feelings exactly. I finished Crossing Over, and while there are undeniably wonderful ideas in the book, the execution of the novel itself left me bored and disinterested. I want to believe that the next book will be better…but given how limited my reading time is to begin with, I can’t justify reading the sequel either.

Rating:

Thea: 5 – Meh

Ana:5 – Meh

Title: Go, Mutants!

Author: Larry Doyle

Genre: Speculative Fiction, Horror, Comedy, Young Adult

Publisher: Ecco
Publication Date: June 2010
Hardcover: 368 Pages

The author of I Love You, Beth Cooper returns with an ingenious contemporary satire set in an alternate universe populated by the aliens, mutants, and atomic monsters of B-movie legend.

It came to Earth . . . and now its spawn goes to high school.

Earth has survived repeated alien invasions, attacks by hordes of mutants, and the ravages of ancient beasts brought back to life. Now we’re in the blissful future…for most.

J!m, the son of the alien who nearly destroyed the planet, is a brooding, megacephalic rebel with a big forehead and exceptionally oily skin. Along with Johnny, a radioactive biker ape, and Jelly, a gelatinous mass passing as a fat kid, J!m navigates a particularly unpleasant adolescence in which he really is as alienated as he feels, the world might actu-ally be out to get him, and true love is complicated by mis-understanding and incompatible parts. As harmless school antics escalate into explosive events with tragic consequences, J!m makes a discovery that will alter the course of civilization, though it may help his dating life.

Replete with all the rock ‘n’ roll, hot-rod racing, and heavy petting of classic teen cinema—and packed with famous film-monster cameos—Go, Mutants! is fun strapped to an atomic rocket, and Doyle’s deadpan delivery and razor-sharp wit will have you laughing out loud before he even starts the ignition sequence.

Stand alone or series: Stand alone novel

How did we get this book: (Autographed) ARCs from BookExpo America

Why did we read this book: Funny story, actually. Thea initially had this book highlighted on her BEA calendar as MUST GET OR DIE – based on the awesome synopsis and sweet cover. Ana wasn’t really interested…until she saw the line for the book, saw the awesome cover, and read the blurb too. Thus, both armed with autographed copies, the two book smugglers vowed to do a joint review for the book – and soon, given the release date.

And here we are. (Yes, we know we’re changing pronouns and tenses all over the place. But this is all in the spirit of Go, Mutants! Seriously.)

REVIEW:

First Impressions:

Thea: If this were a job interview and I had to describe Go, Mutants! in three words, they would be: Bizarre. Neato. Diabolical.

Well, it’s also nostalgic, a sweet mashup/homage to B-movies and classics (both of the horror and teen angst variety), hilarious, and raunchy good fun. (I was never good at the three words question) While Go, Mutants! does have its drawbacks and falters in its delivery, at times trying too hard (and there’s nothing more square than trying too hard, daddy-o), overall, the novel succeeds in its own weirdo, radioactive kind of way.

Ana: Thea you so crack me up, but yeah, I agree with you, babydoll. Ugh, sorry, I can’t do the back-to-the-60s speak but Larry Doyle can. And that’s what’s important. Although there is a certain unevenness feel to the writing (which I will address later) , the book is rollicking good fun, with characters I positively loved and some sequences that were pure genius – including the ending.

On the Plot:

Thea: Imagine a 1950s world in which aliens, mutants, and other assorted B-movie monsters are integrated into regular society. Imagine that these aliens, mutants and monsters are parents, teachers, and other taxpaying, law abiding citizens. And they have children – children that are going to high school, alongside human kids, getting into the same sort of shenanigans, going through the same pubescent awkwardness, sexual frustration, and angst. Go, Mutants! follows young J!m, the son of a feline extraterrestrial mother and a large-brained, matter-energy devouring father – a father that also happened to, ahem, try to destroy the world (unsuccessfully). J!m makes his way through high school in the manner of many teen boys – armed with a generous heaping of male ennui, tight jeans, and a impenetrable aura of brooding. With his friends Jelly (whom you may recognize from a classic film about an amorphous blob from outer space) and Johnny (son of the union between a beautiful blonde and her ape-captor), J!m walks the treacherous halls of High School – avoiding human bullies, dealing with awkward sexual urges, and, of course, falling in love. Of course, J!m has quite the family legacy to live down, making his journey through high school a little more complicated than the average teen’s – especially when the proverbial poop hits the fan, again, and J!m uncovers a truth about his family past that no one wants to believe.

Story-wise, Go, Mutants! is a solid, if strange, romp that reads like a hybrid of Rebel Without A Cause meets The Twilight Zone. This isn’t exactly a plot-driven novel (it’s much more character-centric), but the world that Larry Doyle has created (or remembered and reimagined) is compelling stuff. I love the premise of the book, with aliens and mutants as part of the everyday world (however discriminated against they may be), and the choice of following one such outsider through high school; it gives a whole new meaning to the word “alienation.” There’s also an awesome homage to numerous films: the aforementioned Rebel Without a Cause (down to the planetarium!), The Blob, the numerous Godzilla films, King Kong, and more. My love for the allusions in this book are perhaps best shown in this line:

the monsters were lined up on Maple Street.

referencing the Twilight Zone episode of the same name (one of my personal favorites) – “The Monsters Are Due on Maple Street.” What’s so great about this line is that it references an episode that focused on the evils that humanity inflicts upon itself – paranoia and fear of possible aliens causes the residents of Maple Street to turn on themselves, leading to a mob mentality, over and over again (as the experiment, carried out by – you guessed it – aliens, yields the same results time and time again). In Go, Mutants!, it’s a clever, very appliable analogy – as the fearful, paranoid, self-interested humans round up the so called “monsters.”

It’s lines like this that make Go, Mutants! work – there’s this subtlety, this biting absurdism and sardonic wit. However, by the same token, there is a feeling of trying too much at times. The initial chapters of the book are a bit confusing, as is the general background for the novel. Getting into Go, Mutants! is not an easy thing, especially as the technicalities and history are so vague and covered with so much techno-jargon. It’s not really clear why so many people and creatures have mutated, nor is it clear what certain technologies are – and the overall impression is of one trying to be witty and absurdist, but not exactly succeeding. Gripes with writing style aside, the movie/tv/pop culture references were enough to keep me engaged and hungry for more.

But, more importantly, as much as this is a science fiction/horror drive in special kind of a book, it’s also very much a book about its characters – which is where the book truly shines.

Ana: I had a hard time with the book to start with and I think part of it stems from

1) a certain vagueness with regards to what was happening to the world and a lack of specifics with regards to technical terms, etc. There is no info dump and the reader is just thrust in the middle of this alternate America. Whereas this is usually a good thing, I thought it was rather confusing at least in the beginning. Once I got used to it all, and got to know the characters, it was easier. Plus, something that happens in the end explains the use of language and I for one, found it AWESOME.

2) and from my own specific background. English is not my mother tongue and some of the language used is really, I don’t even know which word to use to describe but for example words such as “imbide”, “effervesced” and “obsolesced” were used in day to day language and I had to stop and think about them. Plus, I don’t feel I have enough knowledge of American culture to appreciate and “get” all the puns and all the movie/tv/pop culture references. For example, the Twilight Zone reference that Thea quoted above was totally lost on me although I am proud to say I think I got some others which definitely made it for a fun read – trying to connect all the dots.

As I said, once I got used to the language and the zany execution of plot, I was completely onboard. More than the specific reference to pop culture though what I liked the most were all the political paranoia, the underlying themes of racism, prejudice and bullying all deftly dealt with by the author without being preachy. There is also a very, very clever, keenly cynical sequence about how the religions in the world reacted to the knowledge that we are not alone in the universe.

“Some adapted. The Unitarians changed their name to the Cosmotarians and expanded their refreshments; Reform Jews retroactively added another dozen tribes. Roman Catholics, seldom living in the same century as everyone else, issue the Dei Verbum, (…)”

Even though yes, I agree with Thea, it seems that the author is trying too hard to be clever and witty with regards to language and plotting, I have to say that the characters were awesome and just right.

On the Characters:

Thea: As I said before, Go, Mutants! is very much a character driven novel – it is because of the strength of its characters that the book really works as well as it does, especially in the face of some hit or miss writing. J!m’s story – as the teen that is living down his father’s infamy, his mother as something of an Oedipal nightmare, his unrequited love for neighbor (and intelligent popular girl) Marie, and his own bodily changes – is what truly made the book for me. I loved J!m’s sense of humor, his ability to stand up to those significantly stronger than himself, and his grappling with his own feelings of inadequacy (especially when it comes to Marie). And Marie, as J!m’s love interest and friend is more than deserving of his attentions. Hilarious, smart, sassy (in a subtle way), I loved Marie just as much as I did J!m. Then, of course, there’s the bevy of supporting characters – the funny, gelatinous Larry and tough guy Johnny as the two main standouts. There’s also the hilarious story of a girl named Sandra Jane and her enormous gazungas (and her own self esteem problems), a bully and his sister, and assorted others.

Even the characters met en passant are fleshed out and genuine, adding to novel. I must say, I am very impressed. One final note worth mentioning here – I loved how overtly sexual the book is. Not just because it goes with the tradition of the 1950s nostalgia that Go, Mutants! pays tribute to, but because these are teenage boys after all – and it really bugs me that so many YA books are sanitized of even the mentioning of sexual content. J!m – and the other characters in the book – are sixteen and horny (both guys AND girls). It’s refreshing to see that isn’t glossed over.

Ana: Totally agree with Thea here – that’s where Go,Mutants becomes a darn good book. From the get go, I fell in love with J!m. Even as I struggled with the world he lives in, I saw the potential for this character from page one and Larry Doyle did not disappoint me. His arc was well done, and I felt sympathy, compassion, sometimes anger for the kid, as he struggled with being bullied, or just being a brooking teenager. Loved his sense of humour and his repartee with his teachers, friends and foes. And how much did I root for him to hook up with Marie? LOADS, that’s how much.

The secondary characters were awesome too but I loved especially Johnny who was always there for J!m and J!m’s mother, a strong woman trying to raise her son and who did not put up with BS.

Final Thoughts, Observations and Rating:

Thea: Although I did have some roadblocks in my enjoyment of the book initially, the strength of the characters and the awesome shoutouts to classic films, television, and other sundries made Go, Mutants! totally worth it, for me. Definitely recommended to someone that like a little humor, old school horror/scifi mashups, and hormone-fueled romp.

Ana: I really enjoyed Go, Mutants , in spite some initial reservations. Although I don’t think this is a book for every reader, it is definitely recommended to those who enjoy whimsical, humorous, character-driven stories. Or, if you like Douglas Adams or Mark Henry’s books or The Simpsons, you should be safe.

Notable Quotes/Parts: A perfect example of character + language:

“J!m’s ears folded down and his cheeks burned Bunsen blue, lit from beneath by an amygdalal inferno of humiliation, as he absorbed oil and an object lesson: why worry about dying sometime in the future – say, tomorrow night – when he was dying every second of his life”

Additional Thoughts:

Go, Mutants! has a freakin’ sweet website – with music, multimedia nostalgia, and lots of book info. We highly recommend you go forth and check it out.

And in other big news, the book has been optioned for film by (so sweetly fitting) Universal. Here’s to hoping the film adaptation is just as enteratining as the book!

Rating:

Thea: 7 – Very Good

Ana: 7 – Very Good

Reading Next: Crossing Over by Anna Kendall