Urban fantasy has long-reaching roots, but it is only in the last twenty years or so that writers and readers have begun using the term in an effort to describe and define a subgenre of fantasy. A subgenre in which the city defines the setting as well as itself as a character. The theme of Paper Cities, an Anthology of Urban Fantasy is to illustrate how cities are like living entities in themselves, and how they affect and influence the lives of those that dwell within them.

Some of the stories emphasized the physical aspects of the city creating distinctive images and atmospheres like Jay Lake's Promises: A Tale of the City Imperishable,

On the roof---a roof, rather, for the Sudgate was ramified and ramparted like some palace of dream---the moonlight was almost violet. The heavy grease-and-shit scent of the Sudgate Districts moiled below them somewhere, miscegenating with night humors off the Saltus and whatever flowed down from Heliograph Hill and the Limerock Palace. Sister Nurse set Girl down so that they stood on a narrow ledge, looking back across the City Imperishable to the north and east as a curious, abrasive wind plucked at them both.

and The Funeral, Ruined by Ben Peek,

Lately, the twin ovens had a tendency to blur around the edges for Linette, but even with the beginning of her deteriorating eyesight due to her thirty-eighth year, the immense girth and height of the creations meant that they were unable to be passed over when she looked at Issuer’s skyline. In contrast, the hundreds of long, bronze windmills that rose out of the city could---and did--- fade from her awareness. The Ovens, however, lurked on the horizon like a pair of dark, hunched watchers outside the city, covered in a layer of soot as a disguise. If you managed to forget them (and Linette doubted she ever could), then you would be reminded each Friday when they belched tart smelling ash, and plumes rose out of each to signal the burning of the weekly dead.

Others showed how peoples lives were re-shaped, adapted to, or otherwise forced to conform to their environment like in the absurdly strange Godivy by Vylar Kaftan where office managers mate with copiers to produce...copies of themselves, and in the sobering story Taser by Jenn Reese in which a gang of human boys is led by a ruthless husky-mixed dog with telepathic abilities. In Catherynne M. Valente’s Palimpsest, the city makes its mark on the inhabitants literally,

I caught a glimpse in my mirror as I turned to catch a loose thread in my skirt---behind my knee, a dark network of lines and angles, and, I thought I could see, tiny words scrawled above them, names and numbers, snaking over the grid.

After that, I began to look for them.

There were the fantastically adventurous stories like Alex and the Toyceivers by Paul Meloy. This short story is actually the first chapter of a novel in which demented toy-like beasts are after Alex. A sudden, violent confrontation and narrow escape left me wanting to know more about the Toyceivers and why they were after Alex. The Somnambulist by David J. Schwartz tells of a woman who awakens most mornings exhausted and aching because …

She dreamed that she carried a fire-tipped lance astride an eight-legged horse, that she excavated bones from the floors of ancient cathedrals, that she climbed the inner walls of ruined fortresses long since given over to tourists and pulled amulets from behind loose bricks. Sometimes she killed faceless things that crawled through wind or flew upon currents of sand. She developed calluses on her hands, woke up sore after sleeping on silk sheets. Her nails never needed to be clipped.

The Tower of Morning’s Bones by Hal Duncan is an exaltation of language that spans time and space to revel in the most ancient of myths and more modern technologies in a single bound. Its tone and prose are reminiscent of his duology, The Book of All Hours,

Over the grey memory of his dream and over the grey reality of the world outside, he sings out loud and long the lines that weave the world around him, music and mosaic, a shape of songlines. This modern muezzin sings from his minaret to wake the mourning city up, and as he sings, a tower of hours arises out of swamp, vines climbing shaft to glassy dome. The songliner laughs---the city’s morning glory. Somewhere a weathervane cockcrows.

Although they all share a common theme, the diversity of the stories and imaginations of the authors make this collection an interesting and compelling read. In Paper Cities, the city is not a mere background against which authors prop their characters to tell a story. The city is a character: an incredibly viable, evolving, and influential one at that.

Embrace the Night, Karen Chance’s third volume in the Cassandra Palmer series is a fitting sequel to the first two. Fast paced and filled with faeries, kids, vampires, mages, ghosts, incubi, gargoyles, magic spells, evil plots, backstabbing and surprises – this one follows the lead of the first two and adds in a bit more of each to ‘kick it up a notch’ so to speak. In this novel, Cassie is now Pythia, the most powerful living clairvoyant with the charge of keeping the current timeline from being corrupted through unscrupulous use of time travel. Cassie’s familiarity with vampires and ghosts is an aid to her for this post but she has just a few tiny little obstacles to surmount. The first issue she has to deal with is a geis placed upon her by the very old and very powerful vampire Mircea. Just for complications sake, during one of her trips to the past, she accidentally caused the geis to be intensified. Another problem she must manage is her deal with the king of the faeries. She has agreed to retrieve an ancient book of magic for him. Not just any book but one written personally by Merlin and sought after by everyone who is anyone in the magical community. It hasn’t even been seen in hundreds of years, yet she has to find it and recover it. Working against her are the mage’s Silver Circle and various factions of this or that group that either want to kill her or control her because of her power.

Cassie, however, has friends. She has the permanently cranky Pritkin, war mage extraordinaire who is not only an expert on demons, but the son of one himself. Can she trust him? She also has Casanova, an incubus in the employ of her former tormentor, crime boss and vampire Tony. Can she trust him to not betray her to Tony? Then there are the gargoyles who illegally work the kitchen of the casino where she’s hiding out, Francoise a powerful witch transported from the past, and of course, Billy, her gambler ghost friend.

The action begins immediately and carries through to the final page. This one goes quickly and drags you along for the ride. Full of quirky humor, a bit of steamy romance, and lots of inventive magic and mayhem it is an enjoyable ride to follow along as Cassie attempts to control her gift, save her life and those of her friends as well as to get the magic, faerie and vampire communities off her back. Being new to the post of Pythia, she has to learn as she goes. Her jumps through time seem to be both too easy in a technical manner, as she decides she must go to a certain place and time and does so – even though in the last book it was explained that her magic was tied to a disarray of the timeline and that would be the only way she would travel back in time and would also dictate when she arrived; and too inconsistent – as her multiple leaps bring her physical discomfort some times but not others.

All in all a very engaging book that had me leaping through the pages, and since it is nearly double the size of the previous two, it kept me engaged for a decent amount of time. Now that Cassie is getting settled into the Pythia role, I expect that the series can branch out from personal-to-her stories to more stories of her working at the role of Pythia and keeping the timeline intact. I will definitely be interested in finding out what happens next.

My first experience with Tad Williams was when I picked up his novel, "City of Golden Shadow." I found the book's opening, in which one of the main characters experiences scenes from World War I, to be marvelously descriptive and quite riveting. Though I found the culmination of that book series to be rather disappointing, I moved on to more of Williams' books. I read his "Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn" saga, which I found more enjoyable, but was once again disappointed by the ending. I then tackled "Shadowmarch," which was so bogged down I could hardly finish it. After all of these lengthy works, I wanted to try something that would give me more of what I liked about Tad Williams without the sheer weight of pages. That led me to try, "The War of the Flowers."

In this standalone novel, I was soon rewarded with exactly what I had hoped for. Williams' gift for wonderful descriptive scenes was again present as I began reading. The scenes and events involving Theo and his mother stand out as some of the most poignant I've ever read.

The premise of the book is interesting, if not completely new to fantasy readers. Theo, the main character, finds himself transported to the land of Faerie and encounters danger and adventure as he is caught up in the affairs of the ruling houses, named for flowers. I found the title misleading, as actual war in the sense of pitched battles and combat heroics is not a major element of the plot.

The book is not so much about fantastic elements, though these are certainly present, as it is about interaction between its well-developed characters. Many are dark, with sinister aspects hinted at and revealed slowly by the author. Theo begins as a sympathetic loser, but grows as the story progresses. Love interests abound throughout and feature prominently in his fate. There are some aspects of "Romeo and Juliet" here, in fact, though with a less tragic outcome.

There is some social commentary as well, though I perceived it to be understated, perhaps even underdeveloped. The inhabitants of Faerie, in an interesting twist for a fantasy novel, are discovering all the problems of industrialized society, class inequality, exploitation, and greed.

Unfortunately, the excellence of the early parts of the book begins to wane by the middle to late chapters. This is a common problem with many of Williams' books, in my opinion. The mysterious elements in the plot begin to be explained -- but the details seem overly contrived. I was disappointed with some of the plot twists, and others I found predictable. In a few cases, I felt as though I was left hanging with no explanation at all.

These complaints would have been forgivable but for the end of the story. It almost seemed as though the author had lost interest in the book chapters ago, and just needed to get it wrapped up so it would be finished.

In fairness, I enjoyed reading this book, flaws and all. Tad Williams once again succeeds in creating another world for the reader to explore, though at times the writing is frustrating. I would recommend this book to anyone looking for a short -- if 700 pages may be called short – introduction to the style of Tad Williams. His best and worst are both present in this novel.

Judith Tarr, writing as Kathleen Bryan, continues the adolescent struggles of Averil and Gereint a year after the ending of “The Serpent of the Rose” in “The Golden Rose.” The teens have spent that year apart, in contemplation and preparation for the adventures assured at the end of “Serpent,” and look forward to meeting again, even if Averil must leave to marry at the wish of her evil uncle, the king. There seems to be no escape from her duty as a royal, but the magic in Averil and Gereint, while strong individually, is practically unstoppable when united.

She is sixteen now, and he seventeen, and a year makes all the difference as they confront those who would use the hidden serpent evil to destroy her uncle’s enemies. Their maturity is evident as they search for ways to thwart the king, struggling to accept that sometimes, even with the magic they share, they need to ask for and graciously receive help from the adults in their lives.

The two continue to wrestle with their desire for each other, but Averil’s insistence that the social constraints surrounding her position make their union an impossibility, along with Gereint’s respect for her concerns, keeps their relationship pure without ignoring the physical aspects of their attraction for each other. Their kisses grow more passionate, and the frank discussion of their desires makes their frustration believable.

The romance is woven into the story so well that it remains a part of it without overwhelming the larger frame, the physical and mental fight against Averil’s power hungry uncle, the king of Lys, who will stop at nothing to rule the kingdoms around him, including Quitaine, left in her hands upon the death of her father, the king’s brother.

Averil and Gereint’s emotional journey echoes typical adolescent development; while they struggle against fantastic forces in a stunning medieval world, their insecurities are universal. The individual’s place and importance in the world, along with the necessity of careful trust in others and the notion that things aren’t always what they seem, were brought up in the first novel of the War of the Rose trilogy and are explored further in the second.

Readers who pick up "The Golden Rose" without the benefit of the background in “The Serpent and the Rose” may be a bit lost as they catch up over the first few chapters, primarily because of the complexity of some of the relationships between characters. The author’s attention to detail and elaborate description bring these relationships to life without overdoing it.

It is a sparkling, iridescent world she creates, but as a character driven piece, the novel stands out because of the careful consideration given to emotional and physical feelings. The cover art, courtesy of the award-winning Donato, echoes these details in a disturbing yet beautiful scene of loss from the story. While not marketed as a young adult novel, this trilogy would be appropriate and attractive to such an audience, while maintaining adult appeal. I look forward to following Averil and Gereint’s resolution of their personal and political problems in the conclusion of this engaging romantic fantasy.

Unquiet Dreams takes fans of Urban Fantasy back to what the subgenre could and should be. Urban Fantasy has long been relegated to the slow simmering back burner reserved for the thick, sloppy cheese that is comforting, unsurprising, and coagulates into a lumpy mess far too easily. There are perfectly good Urban Fantasy books and perfectly horrible ones. Fortunately, "Unquiet Dreams" is one of the very good ones.

This is the second book in the series, after "Unshapely Things".This volume stands alone quite well, with enough recapping incorporated into the story to help new readers understand what Connor Grey is talking about without bogging down the pace. Connor Grey used to be part of the Guild, a magical police force that takes care of problems within the magical community, but after a nasty encounter with a powerful elf robbed him of his powers, he does freelance work with the human police. A teenaged human boy dies in the street and when Connor is called into the investigation, things spiral into a much larger and much more dangerous case. Clever readers will be able to figure out who the culprit is in advance, but the journey to the revelation is still well worth the read. Del Franco's Boston is a city that has been changed by the emergence of magical creatures but still retains most of its character. The city is populated with a variety of beings, many of whom are represented in any number of other fantasy novels. What sets this book apart is that no single class of characters is bad or good, rather they run a spectrum, though they've been subjected to stereotypes, much like their human counterparts.

The book keeps its crime scenes quite descriptive without delving too much into horrifically graphic tableaus. It's both more entertaining and far less stomach-turning than the average episode of "CSI." It's paced well, with little drag and little lacking in plot development. The characters could easily have disintegrated into a mush of stock and cardboard, but they rise to the story almost effortlessly without seeming contrived. The whole book carries an air of careful plotting without ham-handed manuevering. None of the breaks in the case seem contrived and there aren't any deus ex machina moments.

Connor Grey isn't a perfect character. He's a fallen hero who's still scraping himself together. The reader can feel sympathy for his struggles, but also see that he's one of those characters who most likely led himself to his plight. He's a very readable and compelling character.

This book was highly enjoyable, and I will definitely be seeking out the rest of the series. I'll also be buying copies of the first book for friends who enjoyed books like "War for the Oaks" by Emma Bull and Terri Windling's "Bordertown" series. I will also be holding out hope that more readers and publishers will take notice and start publishing more Urban Fantasy titles. The subgenre just faltered a little, like Connor Grey, and it doesn't deserve to be either forgotten or ignored.

Barth Anderson’s second novel, The Magician and The Fool, is marketed as a thriller in the DaVinci Code mode, with the hidden history behind the Tarot being the focus. Indeed, the novel is fast-paced and full of spectacular deaths, chases, and secret societies. But Anderson flips the script of the traditional thriller, and creates something much richer and more mysterious.

Jeremiah Rosemont is an former art historian who has left his tenure track career to hide out in South American, living the carefree existence of a nomad. Part of his leaving academia has to do with his frequent run-ins with his former friend John C. Miles, a whacked out Timothy Leary type who believes in the mystical properties of the tarot and its occult origins. In the past, Miles and Rosemont were a kind of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid team of tarot readers in Austin, at a punk-hippie club called the Circus of the Infinite Wow. Both had considerable power in divination, but where Rosemont didn’t truly believe in his prophecies, Miles clearly did. When Rosemont became a respectable academic, Miles made it his mission to heckle Rosemont wherever he made a presentation. The final insult came when Rosemont gave a career-building talk, one that would have led to a prestigious position, and Miles embarrassingly appearred in the audience, ruining his chances. Rosemont is in Nicaragua when he receives a mysterious summons to Rome, accompanied by an airline ticket. Upon his arrival, he is plunged head-first into a whirlwind conspiracy, having to do with authenticating a series of paintings that may be the basis for the modern tarot deck. Within hours, he witnesses a horrific murder and experiences strange phenomena, such as sudden shifts place and odd visions.

In Minneapolis, a homeless man known only as Boy King begins to have visions of his own. Boy King is a tarot reader who lives in an abandoned warehouse, hiding from someone—or something. Boy King is a broken man, and at first, it is unclear whether the complex patterns by which he lives his life are real or a projection of his psychosis. He is a sorcerer of sorts, surrounding himself with protective talismans and ghosts. When we meet him, he has made a conscious effort not run anymore, and face his destiny, whatever it may entail. Boy King’s sections of the novel are slightly more mystical than the Rosemont sections. They are told in a feverish prose style that emulates the enigmatic nature of tarot readings.

Back in Rome, Rosemont—“the fool”—learns of the occult beginnings of the tarot tradition, which predates the cards themselves. It goes back to ur-Eygptian gods, includes the Fall of Troy, and the ancient fight between Romulus and Remus. He learns these chunks of secret history while on the run from two sinister figures who are searching (and murdering) for the mysterious paintings—DiTrafana and Transom.

The connection between Rosemont and Boy King, and the fate of the paintings makes for suspenseful reading. The resultant novel, though, is less like a commercial thriller than it is like ‘secret history’ fantasies of Elizabeth Hand, like Waking the Moon and Mortal Love. Like Hand’s work, Anderson’s supernatural occurrences aren’t just pyrotechnic window dressing. They are an exploration of the effect myth has on the modern world. Anderson uses leitmotifs through his work—the image of brothers echoes through out the novel, and Miles/Rosemont have a rather more complicated relationship that’s hinted at. At one point, the openly gay Rosemont falls in love Miles. Creatures of myth wander through the streets of Madison, WI, Rome and Minneapolis in both hidden and overt forms. The miasma of elder gods haunts the text. The magic system is wonderfully perplexing. It involves pockets of time, sudden shifts in locale and states of consciousness, and unexplained but intriguing terminology. The tricks that the author-magician plays are persuasive, even if they are trippy and open-ended.

In one chilling scene, Rosemont sees a horrible vision in a mirror:

“A gathering of many colored planes representing the angles and curves of his face stared back at him. The face in the mirror, though, was not Rosemont’s, not remotely…One moment his reflection looked reptilian or birdlike, but then, as the face turned, it seemed suddenly simian, and then the polychromatic mosaic of planes and surfaces frowned into a yawning circle of flower petals, before the light in the bathroom shifted…”

At the same time, Anderson adds humorous juxtapositions. One of the key scenes occurs in a Mexican chain restaurant, referred to as ‘the Chi Chi’s of the Damned.’

The Magician and the Fool is thoroughly enjoyable, and imbued with a rich sense of wonder. What starts out as a juggernaut thriller subtly and skillfully turns into study of magic in the modern world.

Procession of the Dead comes from the Incan word Ayuamarca, which literally translated gives the book its title. It is also the Incan name for the month of November, and the title of the novel’s 11th chapter. In fact all of the chapter titles are taken from the Incan names for the months. It is a clever hook that Shan bases his narrative on, were the reader so inclined; they could research and dissect the minutia that Shan has layered into what was in 1999 his first novel. Sadly, I was not so inclined.

Capac Raimi arrives in the city (it is always just referred to as “the city”) to be a gangster with his Uncle Theo. Uncle Theo was a big deal in his youth, when he ran with “The Pacinos”, but has since faded to doing smalltime protection rackets. Capac’s arrival quickly changes things. Before long, they have attracted the attention of The Cardinal. The Cardinal is the near mythic crime lord who rules the city, and his attention is not rarely a good thing. Those who displease him disappear so thoroughly that their own families never remember they existed.

As Capac works his way up into the good graces of The Cardinal’s family, he comes to understand how little he knows of himself. But it quickly becomes apparent that there is more to The Cardinal and his city than Capac initially realized. His master isn’t satisfied with ruling the city, or an empire. The Cardinal wishes to be God, and Capac is tangled in the plot to bring this mad dream to fruition. Capac Raimi finds himself last on a list of names marking the Ayuamarcans, those vital to The Cardinal’s plans. Most have been crossed off, but not Capac, and Capac Raimi is Incan for December. He is the last Ayuamarcan, if only he knew what it meant.

This story could have made a great crime novel with supernatural overtones, rather than a mediocre fantasy with horror and crime elements. While I am all for having the reader experience the magic as the protagonist does, it just takes too long for Procession of the Dead to feel like a fantasy novel. Having not read the original printing, I cannot speak to the “thorough revision” Procession has undergone at the author’s hands since its first publication. It also feels like a novel strangely out of time. Capac Raimi makes cultural references to Trading Places, Dallas, Bjorn Borg, The Graduate, all of which seem a bit dated for a character of Capac’s twenty seven or “thereabouts” years.

It is hard to say if the fault lies with the author here, or with how his publishers chose to market the book. Shan certainly has talent. That fact is undeniable. He has a real gift for turning a phrase, such as with the book’s opening: “If The Cardinal pinched the cheeks of his arse, the walls of the city bruised. They were that close, Siamese twins, joined by a wretched, twisted soul.” Procession of the Dead is proclaimed as a gritty urban fantasy, Shan is even likened to Neil Gaiman. Gritty it certainly is, but this is no Neverwhere. While Shan and Procession of the Dead held my interest well enough to see me to the novel’s end, I was left with little desire to read the next books in The City Trilogy.

"Darkling" is the third book in the Otherworld Series by Yasmine Galenorn. While this book is in the middle of the series, it's possible to pick up this volume and start reading without feeling too lost. The recaps are brief but relevant and they're incorported into the story well so it doesn't interrupt the flow of the plot at all.

Readers are immediately introdcued to Menolly D'Artigo, a no-nonsence tough bar-owning member of the former Otherworld Intelligence Agency, otherwise known as the OIA. The OIA is defunct, since the administration collapsed, but some of its members remain active in order to keep humans safe from nasty supernatural creatures taht would try to kill them. Menolly is also a vampire. She has two sisters, one who's a shapeshifter and one who's a witch, who not only live with her but also act as OIA agents. When a renegade vampire starts making more of its kind, the D'Artigo sisters are called in to put an end to the nest and its sire. They recieve help from sources that are trusted and others that are dubious at best.

The book is a hodgepodge of mystery, urban fantasy, thriller, and romance with a cast that's highly attractive and a style that is fast-paced and entertaining. The strong female characters are nice to have in the book, though they're balanced out with plenty of men to help them. This book feels a little like it wants to be paranormal chick lit but can't quite bring itself to go there.

It isn't entirely light and frothy, there are some fairly graphic scenes of torture as well as some explicit gore. The D'Artigo sisters are hardly perfect though sometimes the exibition of those flaws seems like it really ought to have gotten them killed at least twice in this book alone.
It was a fun book to read. I certainly found myself looking forward to reading it and will probably seek out the previous two volumes as well as the subsequent ones in the series. There are friends that I would certainly recommend it to, especially those that like vampires and angst, though I would want to be sure I considered the age-appropriateness for some of them.

Unicorn Races, which is written by Stephen J. Brooks and illustrated by award-winning artist Linda Crokett takes us on an adventure with Abigail into her imagination. We watch as she finds herself in a magical forest with all sorts of magical creatures and treats as six very colorful unicorns race into the night sky

Stephen Brooks' story is one that will bring to life the wonderful magical creatures of the forest and is appropriate for children. Sometimes children's books either have a story too advanced, or have something that some parents might not approve of. This is not the case in Unicorn Races, it is a story for all ages.


"There in the deep of the woods, by a slow moving stream, was a royal feast prepared by elves and fairies of cookies and cakes..."


"The unicorns rose up, neighing and huffing, read for the race to begin."

Brooks paints a picture with words that Crokett does the exact opposite with by bringing to life with description her artwork.

The quality of the book is top notch from the nice puffy front hardcover, to the ultra glossy thick pages. This makes a nice canvas for Linda Crockett's artwork to be displayed. Each page is its own little piece of artwork that should be framed in a children's room, or printed out and sold on posters for people decorating young girls' rooms. Each page is sprinkled with a bit of stardust that truly makes the pages jump to life. The only issue I had with the artwork was that Abigail's face seemed to stand out a bit from the rest of the artwork, I do not know if this was something that was a conscious decision by the artist or not. Everything else was very colorful and dreamlike.

My two boys (2 and 4) sat through a reading of the book, they got really interested once the racing of the unicorns started as they both love racing. I have yet to try its wiles on a girl, but I believe it will be met with enthusiasm and enjoyment. This will be one of those books that your young girl will ask for night in and night out.

Tad Williams has a knack for creating an atmosphere. His fantasy worlds are fully populated and full of fanciful imagination and realistic character interactions. When you read one of his fantasies you can imagine a whole wide world full of his imaginary people. Shadowplay is no different. The second of his Shadowmarch series, Shadowplay directly follows the events from the first book.

He starts off with the narrow escape of Princess Briony from her home as it is taken over by a treasonous branch of the royal family. The reader first follows Briony and her companion, Shaso, the former Southmarch master of arms and the man she had formerly believed to be a part of the murder of her brother, Prince Kendrick and who had thus been imprisoned for months. Theirs is an uneasy voyage; the princess has never had to fend for herself, has never been hungry and at first has difficulty with the idea of running and hiding.

The next thread for the reader to take up is the story of Prince Barrick, Briony’s twin, who has been given a secret mission for the Twilight People behind the shadowline following the Southmarch army’s defeat at the hands of those same People. Traveling through their lands, into unknown territory with unknown dangers and difficulties; Barrick is accompanied by Ferras Vansen, the former captain of the royal guard who is not only in love with Briony but has been charged by her with the safety of her brother.

While those are the two main threads of the storyline, Williams weaves into the story a handful of other players. Among these are the imprisoned King Olin, held for ransom by Ludis Drakava, Lord Protector of Hierosol, Qinnitan an acolyte of the Hive in Xis who has escaped and is on the run, Merolanna, the royal twins’ great aunt who is still inside the Southmarch castle, Chert Blue Quartz one of the Funderlings who not only has a very strange adopted child but is helping Chaven, the former royal physician work against the treasonous Tollys, Matthias Tinwright at poet at Southmarch, and Daikonas Vo a Perikalese mercenary sent by the autarch of Xis to return Qinnitan. As you can see from the long laundry list of players above, this is not a simple one act play. The reader is allowed into each of these characters minds and is able to see the world from their point of view as well as the view of the main characters. Some may find this distracting, the moving back and forth among so many characters, but I generally don’t as long as the number of characters that I enjoy reading about outweighs the number of characters whose stories I must wade through. Unfortunately, in my opinion, there are very few characters whose fate I truly wish to follow in this book. Thus I found the story to be very uneven with the characters I was interested in being thrown in like candy amongst a morass of plot and characters that I just did not care about.

While I found the plot itself, at its most basic, to be something I would normally enjoy; Williams’ need to throw in everything but the kitchen sink and to drag out certain storylines till they were dull as ditchwater made me sigh with frustration several times during my reading. With some hefty word count cuts and some judicious flashback and tale-telling use, I feel this could be a stellar book. The characterization is deftly handled, the political plotting and inter-character relations were all finely tuned and the realization of the world itself incredibly imagined. At heart, this is a good story and worth reading, though it certainly would not be harmed by a judicious cut back of about 100 pages.

I am a huge sword and sorcery fan. I grew up reading the mythical stories of Howard’s Conan , Moorcock’s Elric , Leiber’s Fafhrd and The Gray Mouser , and Moore’s Jirel of Joiry . The staging of drama, romance and high adventure set in a fantastic land have always held a special part in my heart—journeys started quietly that end up shaping the future of man. And above all others, I hold David Gemmell in the highest regard.

Like all quests, this one begins with a search. While all quests have different beginnings, they all inevitably have the same outcome; the quest becomes more of a journey to within—to the soul. The journey in Quest For Lost Souls begins with a young boy named Kiall and his journey to rescue a hopeless love and how through the power of his simple kindness, a whole world is changed and destinies fulfilled. Along the way, he encounters the heroes of Bel-azar, the city which was at the center of the last battle fought against the Nadir armies led by Tenaka Khan, the hero of The King Beyond The Gate . Years have passed since that epic battle of Bel-azar and the surviving heroes begin to question why Tenaka Khan allowed them to live, and why he named them the ghosts-yet-to-be. They will travel protecting Kiall to the heart of the Nadir territory and confront Tenaka Khan’s son Jungir who is now khan after his father’s death.

What I have always loved about Gemmell’s books is his overly didactic writing style like the beating of war drums. His action sequences move from point to point, his characters always driving the plot. Some may see this as his having a limited vocabulary, which leads to many of his stories seemingly ripped from one another. Still, what some may see as a weakness, I see as a strength.

Many of Gemmell’s books deal with the theme of love, mainly the folly of love; how love can destroy and bring down the strongest of men to children. Despite this, Gemmell also liked to look at the redemptive power of love; how love can change otherwise ordinary men to heroes—farmers to legends, carpenters to saviors. And with that, Quest For Lost Heroes is really all about love—familial, lustful, innocent and heart breaking.

Gemmell is a master storyteller. However, my fascination with Gemmell’s work is not just because of his thrilling stories and epic struggles. No, my fascination with Gemmell lies with the humanity he brings to his work. Gemmell has that rare ability that not many of his peers have—the ability to show the humanity of life through pain and horror. How the deepest of pains can be strength and how even in the darkest times heroes can exist.

I remember first reading Gemmell’s seminal work Legend when I was a kid. I was young, naïve and lost like most people become at some point in their lives. What I found within those pages was hope. As time passes and I grow older, I find myself remembering the moments spent reading Gemmell’s works, works littered with heroes far past their prime—too old, too lost, too jaded—yet no matter how difficult their lives are and no matter how hard they fight it, they are heroes. And when people need help, they are there. Not because they want to, not because it’ll change the world, but because they must, because it’s what’s right.

One of the many things I have taken away from Gemmell is that one man can change the world—how one man can “matter.” To be a better person, not because you want glory, but because it’s what’s right.

A life-lesson told through a tale of sword and sorcery? What more can anyone ask for?

A disclosure : I readily see the faults of many Gemmell books, but the sub-genre sword and sorcery is my first love and like any first love, we forget the faults and only see the beauty. However, without that love I can see how these stories may seem hackneyed, misogynistic and repetitive and I fully understand if anyone has those views.

Quest For Lost Heroes is a fine addition to the growing Drenai saga mythos and I happily recommend it.

If you liked this also check out: All of Gemmell’s works, Jirel of Joiry , Conan , Usagi Yojimbo , and Dostoevsky.

Fans of the Noble Dead saga have watched Magiere discover her heritage, assist in rescuing an elven assasin, and constantly remain on the lookout for more vampires. Now, driven to recover a powerful talisman, she finds herself blindly following a mysterious dream to a castle somewhere along unknown trails. She must find the talisman before her half-brother, the vampire Welstiel, finds it first and uses it for untold evil. Readers will also see into the mind of one of the Undead, Chane, a “child” of the vampire Welstiel. Created by Welstiel, Chane owes him allegiance for the half-life he leads but finds that allegiance challenged in the days to come. The two sides are joined by a third, a powerful elven contingency who seek the talisman also to use it’s power to further their own agenda. All three collide at the mountaintop fortress that holds answers to questions raised throughout the entire series.

For a long and complicated series, the book is a quick read and easy to understand. The descriptions of the Undead and their practices are chilling and a bit unusual in this age of overdone vampiric clichés. There are a lot of characters with very odd names, which can make it difficult to keep them straight. (I would have appreciated a cast list but I realize that serious fans would not necessarily need such a crutch.) The elven casting was as expected, but the political byplay wasn’t. The power struggle between the three groups adds depth to what could have been a shallow story.

Readers definitely need to read the series in order, otherwise they will be lost from the beginning. The action starts right in the middle of the story where the last book left off. Many allusions are made to previous happenings and the events in this book gain significance by the experiences the characters have already weathered.

I appreciated the way the authors crafted the sense that Fate can be avoided for awhile, but eventually she catches up with you. Several characters in this story are pushing the limitations of their destiny, but each one will be called upon to finish their chosen task whether they want to or not. Sometimes the action became a bit repetitive but the grand finale was worth it.

The end of the book served as a bit of a teaser also, so I looked up the series’ website and discovered the authors are preparing to continue the saga by beginning a new series. The website suggests there will be a couple of characters carried over from this first series but that the action will happen on another continent. The first book in the series should come out around January, 2009.

The Age of Fire has been a wonderful set of books so far, with E.E. Knight doing a wonderful job at spinning the tale of a clutch of dragons each with their own story during the same time frame. Book three gives up the nameless Copper dragon that was crippled after birth in the male dragon battle for dominance. This wild born dragon, who is perceived to be a selfish villain, is given his own story. All that we learned from the other dragons’s perspectives is flipped and we learn the real story of this copper, who will become known as Rugaard.

We start the story with Rugaard, a character that we have come to hate from the other two books. Ah, such a victim of circumstances that we did not really have full insight to at the time. This is why this story is so enjoyable, it feels like a puzzle where the pieces are being put together and you get to see the full story. Let us be clear though, not the 1 million pieces of the same color flower type of puzzle that can be frustrating, but the 500 piece puzzle that makes you feel accomplished but not stupid.

In the cave where we find Rugaard on the way to what we know already is the slaughter of his parents by the dwarves, we get a grander tour after the main event. E.E. gives us a nice view at all the different societies in the cave, like the bats, dragons, dwarves, and snakes. Rugaard has to take on these trials of each culture before eventually breaking free of the cave in his quest to find other dragons. Here starts one of my personal issues with the story, which I will call Jar Jar Binks syndrome. While the bats that Rugaard – still at this time nameless – meets and befriends are used nicely as a secondary character and a companion device, the way they speak took me right out of the story.

“M’answering the nice young dragon’s questions! So now e’be starving and yeee-eyee-yeee…”

We would have been better served by not forcing a speech pattern that denotes their intelligence or difference from the dragon, but letting Knight use his skill as an author to show us the same characteristics.

The copper then finds what Auron was looking for in book one, which is other members of his kind at the Lavadome. This is full fleshed out dragon society with all the culture and intrigue of a human court; Knight shines here with his ability to make us connect with this society and the change that comes upon it. It was interesting to see dragons not separated by color or alignment, but rather a full blown society. Another minor point that felt a bit forced was the dragon battle where Rugaard shows his skills as a commander. It seemed that we did not have enough of a background on why the battle was taking place. Knight does give us a reason, but it seems hasty and not at all developed. Yes, I know this was not the focus for that part of the book, but it still did not seem complete for me.

At the beginning, this book is darker than the others, but at the same time really gives us an understanding of the young copper’s bad decisions rather than an evil heart. While I am sure this book can be picked up out of series and read as a stand alone, it does not do the series or Knight justice. This is a wonderful piece to the puzzle that we are coming to know as The Age of Fire. I don’t know if we can call the copper a hero yet, but that is why we are looking forward to the next book. Barring the two, which I would call minor details, this is one of my favorite reads this year.

“Storm Dragon”, book one of the Draconic Prophecies, by James Wyatt is set in the Dungeons & Dragons world of Eberron. James Wyatt is one of the creators of the Eberron world. . Eberron is a change of pace from other D& D fantasy worlds, in that it has slightly higher technology with magical airships, artificially created warriors called “warforged”, and other elements. In some regards I suppose it is like a steampunk D&D world. Not being familiar with the details of the Eberron world I thought that a story by Wyatt, one of its creators, would be ideal for getting an overview of the world as we built into the story. That didn’t happen though. A familiarity with the world is needed to avoid getting lost in the dizzying assortment of names, places, and historical details. Is having some world background woven into the story an unreasonable expectation? Perhaps, but I admit to having that expectation coming into the book.

The other item that dominated my perception of “Storm Dragon” was how slowly events built up and the story finally gained steam. When the plot elements all come together though, much like one of the storms that main character Gavin Lyrandar can magically conjure, things really get going. That takes very nearly the entire book though, as things unfold slowly. Patience is required as we see Gavin Lyrandar and Haldren ir’Brassek get broken out of an inescapable prison in Eberron. Gavin is a man driven mad by obsession with a Draconic prophecy. As a result, he may know more about it than anybody. There are those who seek to fulfil the prophecy for their own gain, and they see Gavin’s knowledge as a key to it. Alliances are forged, broken, and reforged throughout the course of the novel. In many cases character motivation was passed to the reader in the form of riddle-like prophecy text. The constantly shifting alliances made it very difficult to determine who was key to the agendas throughout the story, who was a pawn, or even who the heroes of the story
would be.

Then there was the prophecy itself. It was the driving force that was shaping the world events in the story. But I still wasn’t clear what the prophecy was. It seemed a tale of Armageddon or of a war among gods on Eberron. These seemed to be, at least as I interpreted them, world altering events, yet something that some power hungry people thought that could bring to pass for their own personal gain. The role of “the bad guys” in the story seemed to be clear if they wanted to destroy the world in order to rule it. Their objectives and the exact outcome they thought they could achieve were extremely hazy, still very far into the book. While I like not being spoon-fed by a plot and being able to make my own interpretations and guesses until the author let’s me know whether I’ve been right or wrong, I was having to do too much of this to be able to settle comfortably into the book for the majority of it. While the bad guys were clear whether or not the expected hero of the story would actually play that role was in doubt for an unsettlingly long portion of the book.

That may have been by design as the clouds broke and questions were clearly answered in the climax of the story. However, it made for a frustrating read at times because I felt just as in the dark about which characters I should grow attached to in the story as I was at the beginning. I’m a sucker for a hero, especially when I’m reading fantasy. I want to find that character and travel along with him or her, even if that’s a misdirection to be revealed later in the story. But in this case I had a hard time finding anything redeeming in any of the characters for the longest time so I had nobody to invest in. For the majority of the story the character I liked most was Cart, the warforged. As a constructed warforged, he had a loyalty and innocence to him. Perhaps it is all my years of watching Star Trek: The Next Generation, and the obvious comparisons to the android Commander Data, but it was most interesting, especially in the early parts of the book, to watch Cart strive to interact with his companions as humanly as he knew how to, but still fall short of that.

Still though, it was apparent that Cart was a secondary character in this story. Perhaps he has previously had, or will get, his own book. But this one was not his. It was obvious that this book was Gavin’s. I was expecting to see the classic journey of the hero, ala “The Hero of A Thousand Faces”. So I waited for the character to develop, and his story and growth to occur along the way.

I waited a long time and was very near conceding that it wasn’t going to happen and this book wasn’t going to hit the mark for me. But then things all came together. Gavin found himself, both in character and as a character in the book that I found interesting and drawn to. Gavin had one huge moment of catharsis where all the bitterness and resentment of his life and particularly 26 years of imprisonment was washed away. But I thought he found a bit too much forgiveness, just a bit too quickly, especially toward the person who was responsible for having him sent to prison. That’s an awful lot of instant forgiveness. It seemed forced to me so that the plot could proceed along. Gavin also had a tearful reunion with a family that he had been “excommunicated” from for 26 years that was also too conveniently resolved. Again I thought it farfetched that 26 years of history could be undone that easily and painlessly. “Storm Dragon” comes in at a comfortable 344 pages, so these couple elements that were forced and rushed could have been expanded out in a less abrupt fashion in just a few extra pages. It didn’t seem like these pivotal moments of character growth and revelation had to be glossed over for the sake of the length of the book. I don’t claim to be the editor or publisher, so perhaps I’m entirely wrong there.

For all the slow build-up, “Storm Dragon ended very strongly over the last thirteen chapters. Better late than never in the “bringing it all together” department. The climax was a large battle sequence that was riveting and was the biggest page-turner of the book. I’ll even look past the fact that there was a beholder at the end that seemed to go down pretty easily. The end left us with questions and a setup for the additional books in this series, but it provided a happy ending for our main characters who had managed to step forward and take the title of “heroes” by the time the book ended.

I give “Storm Dragon” a “rising 6” on my scale. It walked a tightrope and teetered on the brink for me at the beginning. But James Wyatt pulled through and brought it home for me at the end. Looking over the whole book I have to give it a 6, but my opinion was definitely on the rise after the last 13 chapters. They saved the book in my opinion and were a solid springboard from which to launch the rest of the series.

However, to have more than just a average reading experience while reading “Storm Dragon” a reader will need to have two things, an appreciation and some familiarity with the world of Eberron and the patience to let the story come together.

Pulp seems to be in these days in all mediums and let me just say: It’s about time. It is inevitable such a phase will be sniffed out by charlatans (and in some cases have already) and we will soon be drowned in the coming wave of mediocrity but we should not let I had been waiting for people to once again take heed of another man who seems always a step ahead - one Alan Moore in this regard and while I am not sure if Powell gives a damn I’m pleased to see a minor pulp-renaissance occur and Powell is part of that in comics. I should note that I while I have read some scattered issues of Eric Powell’s Goon, I am not an authority on the series as a whole. I am not reviewing the Goon’s adventures in its entirety, but a hardcover collecting an arc that takes place in an original graphic novel and titled Chinatown and the Mystery of Mr. Wicker. As I have said before I think all comics should be published in this manner so I love seeing the product.What you find is a completely accessible book that will allow us to visit three stages of Goon’s life and succeeds as both a current adventure and allowing you to get the gist of the character without seeming obtrusive: Lifelong streetwise crook who has worked himself to be the big fish. Pretty basic concept that allows unlimited opportunities and quick assimilation no matter when you want to tell a story. Afterall, there are crooks everywhere, and there has been a long American-romantic love affair with crime. The world you are in is your own, except there are brushes with the fantastic – an Eastern God, a cursed book – aspects that are assuredly not normal but are choices that aren’t completely out of leftfield. They could be real; in the reality right next to ours, too the slightly mad, or those slightly more perceptive - take your pick - and what you are left with is a Polanski directing Big Trouble in Little China but take it back 80 or so years.

The current Goon is dealing with a takeover from somebody who has information that only somebody who has broken bread with you can have and what is apparently – an beautifully more apparent - his right hand has gone missing. On top of that we get this incredibly atmospheric story from his past as he consolidates turf power, meeting with the Triad, and finds what has the look of love. On the back cover Chinatown and the Mystery of Mr. Wicker is described as a ‘formative chapter from Goon’s early years’, so of course it’s about a dame – I don’t where the female Life Dojo is, but not only are all men given life by women – we learn life’s hardest lessons from them. And that classic image we formulate of that same girl that walks into a 40’s P.I. office or once resided in a Matt Baker’s sketchbook that just kind of stroll into our lives and makes things…more interesting. What I found in this experience is the presence of two distinct stories, the former is forgettable and latter is truly – and I think a bit surprisingly - fantastic and it has nothing to do with a dragon. What is supposed to occur is a layering that acts as an echo and source of tension in the current story from the past, and the flashback provides a soul – in this it is partially successful.

”This aint funny”

While a admittedly starting a funny book in this manner is indeed funny, humor always seems a second away, it is there, but it resides underneath – Powell is able to show humor in an atmosphere that doesn’t call for it. We could be having fun and we may later, but we got to handle shit right now and Chinatown is ultimately about handling your business and loyalty. We can laugh later, or better yet, we once laughed and perhaps more than anything we want to see a chuckle.

For any men who have those chapters in our lives that would not have not have taken a turn for the fictional in thinking the possibility of getting knocked was a daily thought and ultimately not surprising if it became an outcome – you know when every house you frequent has bent blinders on the windows because every car that goes by gets a thorough look-over and mentally-cataloged – we have all met a woman that we at one point propped up as an excuse to enter the real world, to give it all up, to go straight, to live happily ever after, a view that can be seen as romantic but is more a door to the skewed, controlled-madness that to often turns from a phase to a lifestyle. At any rate, either way it is an acceptance and desire of being shackled. To catch a dream we would bet against reality and the first rule of gambling is the house doesn’t lose. I think there may be danger in Chinatown when viewing the female characters that may lead one to conclude a stance or agenda by the writer. Let me first say that stances and agenda don't tend to bother me - there are all types of people in the world and a creator should be able to use any of them in that context. What we have in Chinatown actually are women who merely refuse to rescue Goon from himself – he on both occasions is the pleader and while neither Bella or Mirna are examples of what we would likely attach with the word ideal – they were certainly desirable to Goon and in this story they are depicted as any other – wandering their own way, and the exception (Franky) is the power in the story, but not I feel an accusatory one. There is a lot of truth in these pages or ones that I find to be - if we all had some competition and gods to kill right after our heart is broken I dare say a lot of Playstation controllers would have been saved.

Franky is a ridah. You are going to have your circle, but you are also going to have your ace – and the segments of Chinatown that felt the most emotional were the actions of Franky. Simply put, this guy holds it down; he takes care of Goon and does so in a way that defines the strongest of bonds - he doesn’t have to tell him about it. Proven, the guy that is down forever, that let you look past him once, forgave you – and possibly loved him (Goon) more for it. I felt myself oddly moved by some panels where Powell taps into the essence of friendship – if you ever lost your ace, the last pages of Chinatown, brings back memories. Powell exhibits the ability to render more than emotion, but relationship as well as anyone I have read in sometime and you can see it in a phone conversation Goon is having when someone questions the loyalty of Franky – there is no answer because the question has no substance – it is a verbal absurdity that can’t be heard, as if a foreign language to a mono-lingual mind. Absolute trust is a rare commodity and in that instance we want to warn him that such is foolhardy, we can almost taste betrayal around the corner – but the more powerful outcome is to see him justified.

These are themes we are all familiar, that we know carry gravity and they do in what would seem telling the part of Goon’s life that would in later incarnations look like a scab. It’s ugly, but it protects something tender, a layer closer to you and they work really well but there is a what I perceive as a weakness in the conflict – the situations and feelings are wonderfully captured and framed magnificently by Powell’s art and story-telling tone but they are in someway betrayed by a hokiness that oversteps even the obvious pulp sensibilities of the series itself. It is a story that should be an amazing, poignant; certainly familiar, but in a manner that is never outdated, and it is until we get the reason in the story why Goon has to beat something up. I want to say that the story would have been an excellent chapter, perhaps a deviation, that didn’t require the actual conflict in the current storyline. I realize that such a statement possibly may grate on existing fundamental Goon traditions that I’m not aware of but the conclusion and dynamic involving Mr. Wicker comes off as severely campy when in the presence of an otherwise beautifully rendered story. I guess some could say that it is that very element that makes Goon, but it doesn’t come off as charm in Chinatown it come off as a burden. Powell may have felt the same (admittedly, more likely not) as he does choose to end the story with the thread from the past and due to that, Chinatown is able to conclude with its better half in some way insuring the aroma of satisfaction as we close the door.

I collect original comic art and while across the board I feel much of the modern work is a bit overpriced and I expect that to correct itself after a surge of awareness and the market stabilizes from an influx of buyers and while I think more vintage work will keep escalating as legitimate, relevant, pop-art there are some contemporary artists who have even seen their work go to another level and generally on creator-owned work – a Mignola Hell Boy page, an older Wagner Grendel page, a Keith Maxx page, a Smith Bone pages, a Sim Cerbebus page and while Powell I don’t think has achieved quite that status, Goon pages have shown to be very desirable and you can tell why from thumbing through Chinatown. While some comics seemed to be filled mostly with panels to lead to the next, Powell finds reason for each individual one. Splash pages almost seem to have become added strictly for the purpose of selling them at premium prices in the OA market but Powel utilizes them for a purpose on story– not comely to begin with, we see a man buckle, we see realization, we see a man gain clarity and he has to look at himself to find it. He stood before a mirror to bear witness his own pain and like a man he would not learn from his mistakes he attempts to conquer them. From the perspective of art, Powell can really do no wrong – it’s absolutely gorgeous and while it is an industry that traditional lies in duos and even more in current comics, something about comics that have only one name next to ‘by’ – for what I think obvious reasons – have a more cohesive vision. It is here, where it seems you will most likely find true creative outlets that remind us comics are art, in an industry that is more and more a factory production line.

I fee like I’m riffing VanderMeer and the Post, but somewhere within Chinatown and the Mystery of Mr. Wicker is a great story and I think we can find the lines of separation quite easily. I think I love Chinatown but the Mystery of Mr. Wicker I could have done without – it doesn’t deliver what is weird in the manner that I think pulp masters would see translated today, it comes as quite goofy and honestly has the feeling of being thrown in. I come away from my first prolonged experience with The Goon with a definite interest in reading more; Powell is undeniable as an artist and with Chinatown we see a storyteller that is able to capture a classic and mundane story and infuse it with personality that makes it Goon’s classic story and through it, ultimately a recommendable read and in Mystery of Mr. Wicker we get the feeling that we haven’t seen the best of Powell - that perhaps there may be a haphazard inclination to include certain elements just to have them in-story and I think what we wanted was Anthony Shaffer and we got Nicholas Cage instead.

I’m going to cop more Goon for Franky baby.

Jay Tomio
The Bodhisattva