Fantasybookspot - Single Hero

Dark Side of the Moon

Sat, 09 Aug 2008 17:06:00 -0400

Susan Michael has gone from mainstream news reporter to a sleaze magazine that prints outlandish pictures and even weirder stories. Her life is simple and bit a lonely. Her best friends, Angie and Jimmy, bring her to the local animal shelter to share a deep dark secret. Susan is able to speak to Jimmy for a few moments and then she ends up leaving the shelter with a cat. Of all the animals she could have brought home- she's allergic to cats. Events occur in the next few hours that Susan never thought possible. Her stray cat is really a adonis with six-pack abs and a devilish grin. Things that go bump in the night really do exist. And her life will never be the same. She's left with no friends, family, or hope for the future. The future where she thought she was headed. Now she must live with Ravyn and his world as a squire.

Ravyn Kontis is a Were-hunter who becomes attached to no one. The fact that a mere human saves him from death is both ironic and a lifesaver. He soon finds out that this human is different than most. She brings up feelings he thought were long dead and gone. Because of her he must face many things he thought were over and done with. Because of her he will regain the power to live.

Sherrilyn Kenyon knows how to create other worlds and her character development is amazing. Readers will want to travel through destinations unknown with Susan and Ravyn. They will want a happy ending and they won't be disappointed. How they get there is quite the adventure and it is highly recommended that you stay along for the ride. Readers will find themselves searching eagerly for the other titles in this series. The latest in the series has just been released.

This isn't usually my genre of books but I was totally enthralled with this book. I've already researched and found that this should not have been the first book read but I wouldn't change a thing. I was lucky enough to win an autographed copy at a recent GRWA meeting and now I'm hooked. Kudos to you Ms. Kenyon for showing me the way...to the dark hunter series.

The Inferior

Mon, 04 Aug 2008 14:33:38 -0400

Peadar O Guilin takes the reader out of their comfort zone with The Inferior. This is the story of a young man who learns the hard way that things are not always what they seem, and you should be careful what you ask for because you might just get it. Stopmouth, so called because of his stutter, is a strong young hunter whose only ambitions are to make his family proud, find him a wife and start a family of his own. Holding him back are several things, his stutter is always a stumbling block, making others not take him seriously and making him less interested in social interaction. Stopmouth also has more attraction to his brother’s new wife than is seemly. Additionally, his brother’s latest reckless scheme has created a rift between them that may never be mended. But, O Guilin obviously feels that there isn’t enough stress in Stopmouth’s life because there is tossed in the arrival of beautiful stranger and some radical changes in the world around them.

O Guilin is exploring many things in this story. To begin with the title, The Inferior, this could be a comment on the fact that the characters do not agree on who is inferior to the other. This occurs with the two main characters, Stopmouth and Idriana who each believe that the other is their inferior. This could also be a comment on the idea of inferiority itself – depending upon the definition you put on the word, you could consider the Diggers (which would be the overwhelming evil of the story) to be superior to all the characters because eventually they will be all that remains, thus making all of the ‘human’ characters their inferior. Additionally, playing with the word inferior, the author could be saying that those observing from outside should not presume to judge that because they are not the observed, that they are superior. This could also apply to the reader – we are duly cautioned to not judge others unless we could take a walk in their shoes.

What else could the author be exploring? The nature of relationships across cultures is one theme. The strength and capriciousness of familial bonds is another. The author takes a simple coming of age story and gives it so many obstacles that poor Stopmouth is quite lucky that he comes of age at all. And this he certainly does. He puts his life on the line for others who not only consider him to be inferior, but to be repulsive. Since they need his knowledge and experience, they cannot refuse his offer of help. With simple honor, respect and integrity, Stopmouth shows them that inferiority is in the eye of the beholder.

Did I truly enjoy the story? Certainly I was rooting for Stopmouth and wanted him to prevail, but at the same time I both pitied him and was revolted by his actions. This is where the problem arises when you take the reader outside of their comfort zone. They are no longer comfortable. They are forced to think, take sides, and make personal choices from poor options. Once we are there, we are more focused on how we react to the story than how the story is played out. The story was well written, and considering the secret the author was keeping that was probably a much more difficult task than it would be for a straightforward story. I only found one point I would have quibbled with the author over and it was not a major one. Other minor issues were just with background and scenery and truly did not affect my connection with this novel. I can think of two major influences that could have inspired this novel and while they were both well done, I feel that Peadar O Guilan took it a step further and made the reader both uncomfortable and thoughtful at the same time. This book is designed for a younger audience and while there are some instances of violence and some rather gruesome imagery, I find that it still fits for both a younger and older audience. For a good story and a more extreme take on an older idea, I give this one an 8, though I doubt that I will be rereading this one any time soon.

The First Mother's Fire

Tue, 29 Jul 2008 20:08:23 -0400

In First Mother’s Fire, the first book of the series titled The Soulstealer War; W. L. Hoffman has created an engaging quest/save the world/good vs. evil fantasy epic. There are, however, several flaws with the text as it is and I will go into those a bit later. Ken McNary is a law student that has just graduated and has yet to decide where to move on to from there. To aid in his decision making, Ken goes on an extended hiking tour along the Appalachian Trail. Along the way he is confronted by a being who offers him the choice of staying where he is or going to another world and helping to save it. Ken of course decides to take the challenge on and the being confers a sort of ‘blessing’ on him before he leaves. As Ken moves around this new world, wondering what is truly expected of him he discovers two things, first, humans are slaves and considered to be unclean and inferior and second, the ‘blessing’ bestowed upon him by the being allows him to not only communicate with the environment around him but confers upon him additional strength and other powers. Ken's goal is to stop the corruption of this new land, restore it’s magic and while he is there, to cease the enslavement of humans. Easy right? How he is supposed to do that with the little bit of knowledge he is given is what the reader is determined to find out.

While the story itself is very good, as well as the writing, there are several minor improvements that should have been made before publication. The first is to have had an editor read through the manuscript for spelling, grammar and word use issues. There are several places where there are clear spell check errors like the sentence where ‘succulence’ is used instead of ‘succor’. Additionally, there are some odd turns of phrase as when the weather is described as ‘ice cube-sized snow’. Now, I’m not sure about the rest of the world, but I know of many differing types and sizes of ice cubes from tiny and round to large and square which makes this phrase mostly useless. The reader gets the idea that the snowflakes are probably large but perhaps a better analogy should have been used to avoid the flow destroying eye-roll from the reader. Additionally, there were some strange things that just did not ring true within the story. The main character, an experienced hiker, was hiking in his jeans. For anyone who knows anything about backpacking, hiking or camping and being in the outdoors in general, that is rather odd, especially since the author took care to note the importance of weight and proper packing and care when hiking. Jeans are heavy, hot and take a long time to dry and they are not at all conducive to backpacking or hiking. Most hikers, depending upon where they are going, wear lighter weight cotton or canvas (or these days, some man-made high performance fabric).

Those are all minor issues that would not in themselves denigrate a good story. The two issues that I found to be more destructive in terms of pushing the reader out of the story and losing those who might have otherwise gone on to read the later volumes are these: first, the main character spends so much time debating scientific theories with himself in an internal dialogue that often spans pages of text that the reader loses the flow of the story, and second, the story seems to move too quickly for realistic believability. The main character spends little over a week in this strange new world and has won over nearly everyone he meets – tackling cultural issues like slavery with a speed that seems too easy. I would have liked to have seen this develop more over time, with Ken learning to utilize his newfound abilities and working to combat the enslavement of humans.

All in all, it was a good story that just needed some issues hammered out before publication. I will most likely try and get my hands on the second in the series for two reasons – to find out what happens to Ken and to see if the second book gets a much more thorough editing before being published. For good ideas that were relatively well executed and for endorsing the cause of environmentalism I give this one a 7.

The Devil You Know

Sun, 27 Jul 2008 21:08:50 -0400

Many book authors make their way over to comics. It may seem like a sensible idea since it's just another medium and another way to tell a story. However, with comics you generally only have 22 pages to tell a story, while in a book you can have as many as you want. Authors such as Tad Williams, Jodi Picoult, Brad Meltzer, and Charlie Huston try to bring along the wonderful charm they have as book authors to the comic book medium. Many fail miserably, producing such terrible and tripe fluff that catastrophically nearly kill entire character story arcs. Ultimately things become so bad that fans just want to forget these authors ever wrote comics in the first place (Picoult's Wonder Woman run is the stuff of legends it’s so bad and Tad Williams Aquaman has prompted the published to stop publishing the comic, and for better or worse, I don’t even want to get into what the DC universe looks like post Meltzer).

However, comic authors rarely make the jump to book authors. It's a totally different beast and what works for the X-Men may not work for a whole new world with dwindling readers in altogether competitive book market. Some succeed (such as Warren Ellis, Mike Mignolia, and Greg Rucka), while others tragically fail or churn out the lowest of mediocre fare. Mike Carey falls in the group that shouldn’t quit their day job. His comics have always been heavily dialogue driven (his Lucifer comics have Lucifer running a Night Club and talking about feelings most of the time. Doesn't sound exciting? Well somehow, it truly is). However, what has charm in the comic form may also seem derivative and drawn out in the book form. What usually took Carey a page in comics and roughly 1-minute to read, now takes dozens to hundreds of pages and hours to read. Since books don't contain paneled art, the author must use his words to describe the setting. This is where Mike Carey really shows his weakness. While his world in The Devil You Know is enjoyable, he tends to explain things slowly and only partly presenting a fractured world view that at times doesn't seem all that interesting. This is a 500+ page book that could have really been 300 pages.

Here's the line: Carey's Felix Castor is an Exorcist living in a world where ghosts can be seen by most people and are generally non-plused about things. However there are times when they get out of hand and people like Felix are called in. For reasons all his own, Felix has got out of the Exorcist game and is trying to lead a normal life. But in the immortal words of Pacino in Godfather 2, "everytime I try to get out, they pull me back in." Succubi, haunted ghosts, strip joints, zombie's who are tech savy, and demons who just don't like music run abound. What's a regular shlub who's broke and making ends meat supposed to do? Have sex with a succubus? That's right!

Mike Carey is quite the eponymous writer. Mainstream wise he is best known for his work on the X-Men and Ultimate Fantastic Four published by Marvel. However, comic fans know him best for his Eisner nominated Lucifer, Hellblazer and Crossing Midnight, all published by DC. Lucifer is also important because it proved that DC’s Vertigo imprint still had life post Sandman. I chance to go as far as to say that without Lucifer and Brian Azzarello's 100 Bullets, Vertigo comics may not even exist anymore. What does this all mean? I just wanted to put his work into context since The Devil You Know may turn you off of following any of his other work. His novel work = poor. His comic work = timeless. An overstatement? Perhaps. But true? Oh yeah.

I should state that I have an unabashed love for Carey's comic work. He is also a charming and gracious person who took the time to have a smoke with me as we talked books one rainy day in NY. With that said, The Devil You Know is only a decent book at best and a poor book by Mike Carey standards. So I can only recommend this with heavy reservations. The reservations being that if you aren't a Mike Carey fan, you may enjoy this a lot more than I did. But as for me, I really didn't care much for this overlong work and am hesitant to enter Felix Castor’s world again with Carey's upcoming releases. Hmm, but the ending does have me somewhat enticed.

Jhegaala

Tue, 22 Jul 2008 18:34:28 -0400

Steven Brust brings us another tale of our hero Vlad Talos as he goes to the East to learn about his family in the town of Burz. Being the outgoing chap that he is, Vlad starts asking about the family Merss (his mother’s side of the family) in this industrial town that makes paper, and then all hell breaks loose in this three-sided conflict.

Jhegaala is the most recently published book in the Vlad saga, but it is not the most chronologically recent. Brust has us jumping around at different points in Vlad’s life when he tells a story, and Jhegaala is no exception. In many other series knowing the outcome for certain characters in a fantasy action adventure can be an issue for me. The little things that fall into place from a comment made by Vlad in another book are satisfying rather than frustration and this is due to Brust’s writing talent.

The setting of this Vlad Talos story is a bit of a different than what we would expect. Vlad is going back East, so we do not have any Dragaerans and Vlad does not have his people working for him, he is stranger among his own kind. The East though, while different, has its own sort of charm, with the town feeling like some sort of logging town in America’s past. Granted we did not have any Counts watching over the logging towns, but the industrial feel is still there. It is nice to see Brust put Vlad somewhere unfamiliar to him where out of his normal surroundings we can come to understand more about the character of Vlad and his personality. We also have a very interesting cast of characters in this mystery, a bit different then our hero is used to, and he will need more then sorcery and sword to survive.

“Guilds and Covens, Covens and Guilds. Yeah, it’s a good thing he took the time to explain those to me.”

Being the eleventh book in the series the major characters are a known commodity. Vlad, Loiosh and Rocza, with a little Noish-pa thrown in there, are the ones we will follow in this journey from the list of acquaintances in Vlad’s circle. Vlad’s split from Cawti is fresh and the Jhereg organization is out to eliminate him, and Vlad has troubles - troubles that I want to see solved, stories that I want to hear. This is what makes a Vlad book worth picking up.

Brust is one of my favorite authors among the many fantasy writers because of his ability to let you feel like you really know the character as some sort of fantasy extended family. Vlad feels like a real person, with real faults, dreams, and turmoil, and this allows you to empathize with him when he is down on his luck, as well as share in his triumphs when he succeeds. Brust is good in making you feel he is talking directly to you, engrossing you in the tale.

Jhegaala is a fantasy book at heart, but the crux of Vlad’s problems stem from a mystery, so I think it can be safe to call it a light cross-genre. Cross-genre books can be a blessing or a curse: can you make everyone happy or do you just exile readers of each genre? There are many book readers that would consider themselves cross –genre readers at heart, but I never considered myself one until recently. The mystery part was intriguing enough to spice up this Vlad story and I find it very unlikely that Brust alienated anyone with this tight storyline, and his creativity really shines through in the mystery that Vlad is caught up in. While the level of swordplay and sorcery is lower I felt the mystery portion of the story is stronger because of it. We learn more of Vlad, and when you have such a long running series, it is welcome to get a further understanding of the character you have been following for so long.

Having Loiosh, Vlad’s familiar, is always nice for Vlad from the partnership standpoint, but even more so in a story that is not driven by the sword. Loiosh allows Brust to give Vlad the ability to bounce ideas off a character other then himself, as well as hold back things from the reader as Vlad holds back things from Loiosh. This is nice ace in the hole to have in a cross-genre book that focuses on a mystery as the main plot. Loiosh also allows Brust to use a bit of humor in his books as readers of the series know from previous novels, but in a way that fits the story. Rocza, Loiosh’s mate, as always is more of a plot device, and allows Brust to move the story along rather than a true character in my opinion.

Jhegaala is a book that makes the Vlad Talos series stronger, and while each one of the Brust books can be read individually I suggest that this one be part of your series reading. We get to see a different side of Vlad, a different story type (cross genre) from Brust, and it makes one nice package.

I really enjoyed the mystery portion and I think the fantasy community needs to embrace this a bit more, authors and readers alike. One of the things that takes away from this book is something I alluded to earlier, the fact that I know Vlad is going to be okay in the end. Readers of the series already know what happens to Vlad after he leaves the East. It is a back-story type novel, and while I would not consider it the best stand alone Vlad story, I think when taking the book as a piece of the whole is where this book excels.

The Steven Brust Jhegaala novel is a worthy addition to the Vlad Talos series.

Majestrum

Mon, 21 Jul 2008 23:32:27 -0400

The back jacket copy describes Majestrum by Matthew Hughes, as “Sherlock Holmes meets Jack Vance’s Dying Earth…” H-m-m-m-m. Let’s take a look. This first person narrative chronicles the latest adventures of Henghis Hapthorn, freelance discriminator. Hapthorn is assisted by his integrator, a sort of electronic Dr. Watson, in the broadest sense, who has been transformed into a living, breathing, and definitely, eating creature. Cat-monkey is how I pictured it in my mind, although it is also referred to as a “familiar.” “It?” Is it male? Female? Not sure, but it most definitely is no longer a machine.

The third member of Hapthorn’s feckless crew is Hapthorn himself. Or, rather, Hapthorn’s intuition, which has achieved separate awareness under the same special circumstances described in a previous novel wherein our integrator becomes flesh and blood and sentient. Well, kind of sentient. And hungry.

So the intuition is growing in awareness and power and Hapthorn can foresee the day when he, Hapthorn, the current “I” in this particular body will be nothing more than a daub of logic in the other’s mind. By the way, in this far distant future universe of Hapthorn’s (Ah, Dying Earth-like) the operating system of the universe is making a switch. Kind of like going from Windows to Mac, the universe is slowly reverting to a past state wherein sympathetic association (also known as magic) dominates over logic and reason. It seems the universe fluctuates, switching from one to the other over the millennia in constant change as yin becomes yang and yang becomes yin.

However, certain occurrences in said previous novel have brought about the change faster in particular instances, i.e. integrator becomes cat-monkey and intuition becomes ego.
So we begin the novel with the integrator snacking on expensive bowls of fruit, and Hapthorn worrying about losing control of his body.

Now to the mystery, or, mysteries. First Lord Afre, a member of Earth’s aristocracy in the far future, calls in need of a freelance discriminator (Enter the Holmesian element.). Hapthorn begins his investigation, carefully. Decadent? Jaded? The aristocrats of the far future may be that, but they are more than anything, dangerous. Of course, one does not climb to such a pinnacle nor maintain that perch without having claws. Although, so unaware of the lower classes is Lord Afre, that Henghis must wear a symbol of recognition to safeguard him (Nice touch this!).

A second mystery is carried in by the Archon, the young, somewhat clumsy, and absolute ruler of Earth. Soon, Holmes, er, uh, Hapthorn is embroiled in a case that may well determine the very integrity of the universe.

Majestrum has many fine points. The characters are fey and immoral and somewhat Vanceian, but, to Matthew Hughes’ credit, very much their own people. This novel has the feel of a Jack Vance universe, but the characters are Matthew Hughes's. I particularly like the interplay between Hapthorn and his familiar. The exchanges are often droll and dry, and very funny. Toward the end of the book, Hapthorn requires his familiar to perform what seems to be a dangerous action. The familiar refuses. The dialogue brought more than one laugh-out-loud from me. Very nice.

So the characters are good and some are very real. The mystery is not all that mysterious, and the reader is not supplied with enough information to solve the case. Not bad, but not a true mystery.
The setting tends to be flat. There is just not enough description of the world around our team. Curiously, this might be said to mimic Jack Vance, whose worlds often seem a bit vague, especially when compared to the creatures who inhabit them.

Vance meets Holmes? I will give in to the Vance part with the caveat that Matthew Hughes’s characters are his very own and should be appreciated and enjoyed for this. They are not merely Vanceian pastiches, they are real. And often quite good.

Holmes, no, I think not. But this is not a bad thing. Once again, Henghis Hapthorn, his familiar, and his soon-to-be-ego are individuals their own selves. This is not really a mystery, but an enjoyable story about a detective—I mean a freelance discriminator.

Majestrum is a delightful book and highly recommended. If you like Jack Vance you will most likely enjoy these characters. But also, enjoy them on their own. The plot is above average and combined with Hughes’s excellent writing style, moves along quite well. I enjoyed this to the point where I will go back and catch up on the doings of Hapthorn and also go forward and read the newest book, The Spiral Labyrinth, as well.

Dan Dare issue #5

Sun, 13 Jul 2008 22:05:59 -0400

Virgin comics has attempted to revive the character Dan Dare. In issue five of the comic, Dare confronts the evil Mekon. Mostly, this issue is a bridger for the story arc. Dan Dare has been captured and brought before the Mekon and the Prime Minister attempting to bargin with the alien.

Revivals usually involve a reinterpretation of a nostalgia character. Dan Dare, however, is left in all his perfect, stilted 1950's glory, which could be played for comic effect. Instead, the comic has stayed in the 1950s, right along with Dare. It feels as stale and dated as a bag of Lays potato chips that's been open and forgotten in the back of a cabinet for at least a year. His dialog is, of course, every bit as perfect as his manners. He is polite and unyieldingly drawn towards always doing the right thing. Readers know that, in the end, Dan Dare is good personified and that he will always triumph, no matter how sticky any situation gets.

The world, though, has (to quote Steven King's "Dark Tower") moved on, and comics have matured, as have the readers. "Dan Dare" reads more as adventure fluff with a very black and white view of the world. The bad guys are bad, the good guys are good, and cheaters never win. Many readers require more complex characters and far more complex worldviews.

So, was "Dan Dare" unreadable? Hardly. While personally, I did not find the issue to be a good read, that may have been largely due to the fact that I have not read the previous issues (and the Free Comic Book Day preview was hardly adequate to offer enough storyline to help decipher issue #5). I can see the appeal to fans of campy adventure-based sci-fi serials like Buck Rogers and Flash Gordon. This comic also serves as a very comforting nostalgia piece, as it is a dependable, predictable storyline.

"Dan Dare" does benefit from a great art team. The coloring and inking for the book are superb and the artwork itself is far beyond typical artwork from the 50s. Virgin has spared no expense for good paper and quality printing, which I'm sure hard-core fans will definitely appreciate.

While I, personally, did not enjoy "Dan Dare" the quality of the comic has encouraged me to look into other books Virgin Comics offers which seem as though they will be a far better fit for my sensibilities. I would recommend "Dan Dare" for anyone who might be searching for a kinder, gentler, much more likeable Indiana Jones.

The Book of Lost Things

Fri, 20 Jun 2008 13:17:50 -0400

Irish author John Connolly is perhaps best known for his crime stories that hover on the edges between traditional detective stories and supernatural horror, but with The Book of Lost Things, Connolly travels deeper into fantasy-land, reinventing age-old fairy tales in a beautiful and poignant story of childhood and loss.

Set in England during the beginning of World War II, The Book of Lost Things is the story of the 12 year-old David and his struggle to come to terms with the death of his mother, his father’s quick re-marriage and the birth of a baby sister. David is especially close to his mother, sharing her love of literature. Her illness and death is an earth-shattering experience for him, and it is this loss that the whole narrative revolves around, which is already hinted at in the very beautiful opening paragraph:

Once upon a time – for that is how all stories should begin – there was a boy who lost his mother.

He had, in truth, been losing her for a very long time. The disease that was killing her was a creeping, cowardly thing, a sickness that ate away at her from the inside, slowly consuming the light within so that her eyes grew a little less bright with each passing day, and her skin a little more pale.

And as she was stolen away from him, piece by piece, the boy became more and more afraid of finally losing her entirely. He wanted her to stay. He had no brothers and no sisters, and while he loved his father it would be true to say that he loved his mother more. He could not bear to think of a life without her.

David’s mother has shared her love of fairy tales with him, and she has taught him that these old stories are important. The fairy tales have a special power. They are stories that come “alive” in the telling and they have the power to take root in and transform the reader, and the power to create their own reality. After his mother’s death, these ancient stories begin to intrude upon David’s reality. Books start to whisper to him and he receives episodic visitations from the Crooked Man, a strange and frightening figure.

About six months after his mother’s death, David’s father introduces him to Rose. She works at the hospice where David’s mother ended her life, and it quickly becomes apparent that she is in a relationship with his father, a relationship that most likely began while his mother still lived. David’s father and Rose marry not long after this introduction, she gives birth to a son, Georgie, and the new family moves into an old country house that belongs to Rose’s family. This house contains its own tragic story, a story that becomes intertwined with David’s. In his new room, David finds a book with dark and horrifying fairy tales, a book that once belonged to Rose’s uncle Jonathan, who, as a child, disappeared with his foster-sister Anna many years ago, never to be found again.

David is both attracted and repulsed by the tales in Jonathan’s book, and the narrative subtly builds an atmosphere of quite menace as David continues to hear the books and see the Crooked Man while he at the same time clashed repeatedly with his step-mother. He hates his new life; he hates his step-mother, his half-brother. He misses his mother, and his father who is emotionally absent. And the reality of war is ever present as the backdrop of this more intimate battleground of familial conflict. This atmosphere of conflict and menace comes to a head when the war in the family and the war in the world briefly collide. David’s resentment of Rose’s intrusion into his family finally explodes in a heated argument, and the very same night, a bomber airplane crashed in the garden. At precisely this point, the membranes of David’s reality violently ruptures, tearing him away from his known world and catapulting him into a strange and frightening place, where he hears his mothers voice, calling for him to save her, to bring her back.

David finds himself in a strange forest where the trees bleed and the flowers have the faces of dead children, and where blood-thirsty wolves walk and speak like men. Aided by a woodsman, David sets out to find the king of the land, who owns The Book of Lost Things, which might help him find his way home again. David has to negotiate many horrifying dangers during his quest, sometimes aided by different helpers, sometimes alone – all the time haunted by his mother’s voice, and shadowed by the mysterious Crooked Man, who wants something from him. When he finally reaches the king’s castle and finds the Book of Lost Things, David learns that things are not what they seem, and that he has to make a choice that might have severe consequences for himself and his family.

In The Book of Lost Things John Connolly engages with several different, yet interrelated literary traditions. His novel is structured as a portal-quest fantasy in the tradition of C.S. Lewis, where the protagonist enters parallel world, but the world David enter into draws extensively upon the tradition of fairy tales with an emphasis on their darker aspects, which touches upon the horror genre. Connolly handles these different aspects extremely well, weaving them into a coherent whole with an emotional underpinning that is both poignant and psychologically truthful.

The main part of the narrative takes place in the parallel world that David enters, but Connolly manages to keep up a continuous doubt about its reality. It is a world that is both real and tangible, in the sense that David interacts with it, yet also dream-like and hallucinatory, its elements made up well-known fairy tales re-told and re-invented, mixed up with elements from other books that David has been in contact with. Thus David’s encounter with a group of dwarves living with a petty house-tyrant in a dysfunctional domestic situation offers a rather funny and whimsical interpretation of the fairy tale of Snow White and the Seven Dwarves filtered through a text book on Communism! Thus, the kingdom that David journeys through is in many ways his own creation, it is the amalgam of all the stories he knows, mixed and reordered into a new configuration.

In a sense, John Connolly highlights the workings of the traditional quest fantasy by making explicit the fact that the external quest often stands as a metaphor for the internal journey of the protagonist. David’s quest through his dark and twisted fantasy-land is driven by his need to work through his grief, to accept the loss of his mother and the presence of his new brother – a need that is not met in his own reality due to the emotional absence of his father. But at the same time, Connolly leaves the reader in doubt about the actual presence of this fairy tale parallel world. It both is and is not real, for The Book of Lost Things is also a story about the power of stories.

The Book of Lost Things is brilliant take on a modern fairy tale – dark and scary but also beautiful and moving in its depiction of a child’s loss, grief and ambivalent jealousy as is it filtered through the fantastic. The emotional underpinning of Connolly’s story is its most powerful element, but his re-workings of popular fairy tales also work very well. Their emphasis on the horrific touches upon all that is scary, while at the same time addressing the fact that most of the fairy tales we know today were heavily edited in the 19th century. The paperback edition of Connolly’s novel comes with an appendix, where the author explains the origins of each of the tales he re-invents in the novel, accompanied by a reprint of the “original” tales (from textual sources such as the Brothers Grimm). The appendix is also the only gripe I have with this otherwise wonderful novel as Connolly unfortunately not only explains the origins of each tale but also proceeds to explain their use in his narrative, thus essentially interpreting his own work for the reader. This is a rather heavy-handed move, but since it is located in an appendix, it can be skipped.

Little Brother

Sun, 08 Jun 2008 23:26:33 -0400

A terrorist attack on San Francisco kicks off this Young Adult novel by Cory Doctorow. Marcus Yallow and his friends are playing an interactive scavenger hunt game and end up in the wrong place at the wrong time. One of their number is injured and when they flag down the police, they find themselves under arrest and taken to a secret prison where they're interrogated by the Department of Homeland Security. Once released, Marcus uses his technology skills to become and activist, which makes him Public Enemy Number One, as he attempts to regain the city and the freedom that he used to know.

This novel is particularly compelling because it isn't far-fetched. When a government and its people gives terrorists the power to disrupt their lives, the changes that a governing body can institute and the people will tolerate in the name of safety can become shocking. The majority of the technology in the novel already exists in some form, even if it isn't yet as sophisticated or widely-used as in the book. The leaps for the techonolgy in the book aren't unreasonable and have probably already been developed, but haven't been released to the general public. Interestingly enough, the chief tool for the subversion of the government are xBoxes that have been hacked.

Marcus is a compelling character because if he hadn't been so mistreated, he wouldn't have become so active in attempting to bring down the Department of Homeland Security. He isn't stupid, nor does he seem particularly lazy, he's just a kid, doing the kind of things expected from a typical teenaged geek with free time on his hands. He's a little selfish and a bit vindictive, but he's a highly realistic character. Many very significant social movements were founded on a similar vindictive dissident basis.

Cory Doctorow also provides afterwords and a bibliography for those who want to learn more about the technology involved in the book and the ideas presented. The book mentions Abbie Hoffman and the Yippie movement, as well as civil rights groups, and some very poignant quotes from the Constitution. The book never become preachy, it has a point and the author is never shy about reminding the reader what that point is, but there is still so much action, reaction, and character growth that it doesn't feel as if it's an adamant statement. This is the kind of book meant to get people thinking and talking, and it certainly offers a great deal of food for thought.

Technology can sometimes be off-putting in fiction. If an author has to take a long tangent in order to explain how things work or how and why the technology was developed, the plot and characterizatino can often suffer. Sometimes, techno-babble can cause readers to lose interest, especially if they're unfamiliar with slang or jargon that is being used. "Little Brother" doesn't suffer from these problems. The technology isn't inacessible and through various plot devices it's easily and neatly explained enough to help the reader understand what is happening.

The bigger point, though, is at what point trading privacy for safety needs to be stopped. "Little Brother" is being marketed as Young Adult, but I believe that adult readers would gain just as much, if not more, benefit from reading this book. Anyone who has concerns over the amount of power the Department of Homeland Security has been granted or about the Patriot Act should definitely get a hold of a copy of "Little Brother" and then start sharing it with their friends. Some adults are certainly part of the problem in the book, but not all adults are the issue. There are very specific villains in this book, which gives it a more balanced view than it might have had.

It's an excellent, thought-provoking read, and I would recommend it to just about everyone.

Wolverine: Nature of the Beast

Sun, 08 Jun 2008 22:52:47 -0400

Wolverine is perhaps Marvel's most compelling X-men character. While his backstory and volatile makes him interesting, it can also make him easily cliched and largely unlikeable. Given to competent writers, Wolverine is rich fodder that can make for some incredible story-telling. Dave Stern has certainly used the character well in "The Nature of the Beast."

This particular novel takes place between Wolverine #76 and #77. Magento has taken all the adamantium from Wolverine's body, forcing him to learn who he has become, as well as relearn everything he used to know about his body. He retreats to a desert preserve where he encounters a scientifically modified tiger that sets off a whole chain of events. Suddenly, he's Logan again, and he's investigating an internatinal web of secret labs performing experiments with one goal, to rid the world of any further mutations. On his quest, he begins to understand that he has physical limitations again and that he is, in fact, vulnerable. Pieces of his past after the adamantium was bonded to his skeleton resurface, and the reader gets a few more parts of that elusive and mysterious backstory.

"Wolverine: Nature of the Beast" is fast-paced and certainly more given to simplified explanations of any technology and the plots to use it. This is mostly a result of the story being told in first person from Logan's perspective. He's not the kind of guy who worries too much about the details, which is often what gets him into trouble. He's not stupid by any means, but he is impulsive and prefers to act, rather than make detailed plans. The author provides a good balance between positive and negative outcomes for Logan's general mode of operation. Sometimes, his focus on the immediate really pays off, other times, he ends up making things much worse.

This book was largely a fun and entertaining novel, certainly it had the feel of reading a comic book because it moved quickly and the focus really was in telling a good action story. Fans of Wolverine should be very pleased with Dave Stern's take on the character. Newer readers who are curious (especially if they're unsure or unwilling to get to involved collecting the comic books, or who only know who Wolverine is because they've seen the X-men movies) should find this book to be a fairly serviceable introduction to the character. At the very least, my interest about the rest of the Wolverine novels that Dave Stern writes has been piqued.

Eternal Vigilance: From Deep Within the Earth

Fri, 23 May 2008 18:38:19 -0400

We awaken with Tynan Llywelyn from a hundred year's Sleep. Tynan is no Rip Van Winkle, however, but a powerful vampire who is not eager to return to the vampire community who shunned him. The world that greets him is vastly different than what he left behind. Society has crumbled and humanity is being controlled by a domineering techno-government called the Tyst. A small group of rebels, the Phuree, are fighting back as best they can. The Phuree have taken a radical step in allying themselves with the Predators who feed off them - the vampires. Tynan finds himself embroiled in a power struggle between vampire and human players alike.

I knew I was in for an incredible read when I became captivated by the Acknowledgments page. Ms. Faust's talents as a wordsmith far surpass anything I have read in some time. Her depiction of vampires is a delicious exquisiteness that at times had me running my tongue over my teeth to insure fangs had not appeared! She creates these beings with a deft hand, stitching common myths together with her singularly modern twist, providing a seamless and completely believable existence.

Next to such thoroughly real characters, the Tyst and Phuree pale by comparison. The Tyst are nameless and faceless; although characters are mentioned we never really get to know them. These are the Big Bad Guys, yet they seem completely untouchable and almost nonexistent. The Phuree are also a bit out of reach. Teirnan, their leader, and his sister Khanna are stereotypical and rather predictable. They appear small and ineffective somehow. This book is the first in a series, however, so perhaps the next installment will focus more on the other characters. If Faust can bring them to reality as she has her vampires, this will be a knockdown-dragout favorite!

The overall sensation of the story is very focused on Tynan, his tough and (unusual for the Living Dead) his emotions. In fact, Tynan's emotions are a pivotal point of the entire storyline. Faust captured his moral writhing quite well. He is struggling with a moral crisis, one that led him to abandon his Dark Brethren and sink into Eternal Sleep. But his despair only kept him for one hundred years, not forever. With prose the texture of deep velvet, Faust draws us down to the depths of a story as old as fear, as dark as sin, and as deep as Satan's heart. The lines between friend and foe are re-drawn. She captures desperate obsession and hunger, outlining each with the passion for existence that burns in all beings.

In spite of a lack of character development in some areas, I was very impressed with Gabrielle Faust and Eternal Vigilance. I eagerly devoured the book from cover to cover in one sitting and felt bereft when I was finished. This is not an airy-fairy, "rescue the damsel"-type of story. Gritty and dark, readers will begin to understand the "un"life of a vampire.

The War of the Flowers

Thu, 08 May 2008 16:24:57 -0400

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.

Unquiet Dreams

Sun, 04 May 2008 23:27:14 -0400

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.

Kockroach

Sat, 05 Apr 2008 17:30:42 -0400

It is the mid-1950s, and in a fleabag hotel off Times Square, Kockroach, perfectly content with life as an insect, awakens to discover that somehow he's become, of all things, a human. This tragic turn of events would be enough to fling a more highly evolved creature into despair, but cockroaches know no despair. Firmly entrenched in the present tense, they are awesome coping machines, and so Kockroach copes. Step by step, he learns the ways of humans—how to walk, how to talk, how to wear a jaunty brown fedora.

In Times Square he discovers a blistering sea of lights, a great smoking god, walls of glass laden with food, and the opportunity to rise in the human world. Two companions guide him on his way: Mite, an undersized gangster suffering an acute case of existential angst, and Celia Singer, a reserved woman with a disfigured body who finds in Kockroach a key to unlocking her hidden passions.

As Kockroach, led by his primitive desires and insectile amorality, navigates through the bizarre human realms of crime, business, politics, and sex, he meets with both great triumph and great disaster. Will he find success or be squashed flat from above? Will he change humanity, or will humanity change him?

In some ways Kockroach is a success and in others not quite. The first part offers a great version of Times Square and New York in the 50's where junkies, gangsters and prostitutes eat in the same diner as the early members of The Beat Generation. It's told in idealized broad strokes but they are efficient at painting, and affirming a certain pre-Giuliani mental image that probably never really existed. But its a hell of a ride and a lot of fun.

Kockroach is a problematic book though and part of this lies on the shoulders of Mite, one of the main characters and the conduit through which which we read the story.

Through the character of Mite Kockroach cant decide if it wants to be a gangster pulp parody or if it wants to play it straight and as a result it never really attains either. Mite's character reads, at times, like a pale amalgamation of so many pulp characters; on the surface all of the words, slang and rhythms are there but its laid on so thick that it really just approaches caricature. When this becomes really noticeable is when the time frame of the story shifts from the 50's to the 60's and Mite's speech characteristics don't change as well.

**mild spoilers below**

There are some character based reasons why they should have changed; that he is gay and his lover is black. In linguistic terms (especially since we are talking about slang) these are two groups who have done more to influence American Language then any other group. The first due to societal (and legal) restrictions, especially of the time frame we are talking about when being gay was not only illegal but also dangerous, that forced a coded, insular language in an effort to determine who was gay and protect themselves. The second groups contribution to the shaping of 20th century American language is far more pervasive. To say that ghetto vernacular has been moving into everyday speech patterns for 100+ years is not an understatement; from the pre hip-hop world (nitty-gritty, busted, put-down) to the post hip-hop world (bling, boo-ya) this is an linguistically influential group. Or, more succinctly, here is a line from John Brandon's novel Arkansas, "Black children invent slang and in time it makes its way to the dictionary." But the primary characteristic of both of these groups languages is that they are fluid and ever changing. But even looking past those character based reasons the 60's were a decade with their own speech patterns and for Mite to still retain his 50's speech patterns a full decade later with no change speaks to the inability of Mite to progress as a character and the basic two dimensionality of the other characters.

Harder to quantify though is what bugs (intended) me the most about this book. A story about a cockroach who turns into a man is, at its heart, a weird premise and the final product stopped being weird very early on. It should have been, and could have been, weird, odd, maybe a bit horrific but instead it's a little on the sterile side.

--Brian Lindenmuth

Jumper

Sun, 30 Mar 2008 19:28:44 -0400

David Rice, abused by father and abandoned by mother, suddenly discovers he has the unusual ability to “jump” - miraculously transporting himself and anything he is holding to wherever he pictures in his mind. Using his ability to escape his father, he struggles to survive in a world without job, ID, personal history. Life without personal connections is cold and lonely, though. The temptation to settle down calls to him and, in giving in, he captures the attention of the establishment. Throughout his attempts to avoid the long arm of Big Brother, he tackles terrorism and his relationship with his parents.

Readers familiar with Griffin’s Tale may feel a bit disoriented while reading Jumper. Written in 1992 and re-released this year to coincide with the production of the movie Jumper by 20th Century Fox, Jumper the book sustains a few alterations before making it to the big screen. Griffin is not in the book Jumper but is only a character created for the movie, hence the book Griffin’s Tale written not too long ago to establish the character before the movie was released. Readers shouldn’t avoid this book for this reason, however. Just know that the book is different from the movie, as usual.

I found the concept of jumping interesting and had high hopes for the book. To quote Stephen Gould, “Teleportation is, I hope, a classic trope of science fiction, and not a cliché.” I agree, but even classic tropes need good stories with well-explained back stories in order to shine. Unfortunately, Jumper leaves much to be desired when examined with a critical eye.

Here is a young boy, abandoned and abused, trying to make it on his own. Whenever he meets a struggle, “poof”, he disappears and goes somewhere else. He does deal with some very uncomfortable situations, but his ability makes it all seem so unreal. Yes, I understand the genre is fiction. I expect my fiction to contain kernels of believability sprinkled throughout the fantasy, though.

I appreciate how Mr. Gould tries to have David Rice, the main character, work through these issues. In fact, the adolescent angst is at times palpable and cloying. But, when I got to the end I didn’t feel like I actually made it anywhere. The story read like a chain of events loosely bound together by the same paper cover and not a well-knit story unfolding for the reader. I know no more about David Rice at the end than I did at the beginning.

I had hoped the author would address the root of David’s talent, why he has it and where it came from. One could say this would be developed in the next book in the series, but Mr. Gould released this in 1992 and didn’t follow up with another book. There is no series. (For those of you hearkening back to Griffin’s Tale again, please remember that book deals with the history of a character created for the movie Jumper.) He just cuts us off and leaves us with nothing. In fact, after I finished I remember thinking “hmmm, reads like a television show”. Perhaps the movie is more enjoyable.

Small Favor

Sun, 23 Mar 2008 23:01:06 -0400

Small Favor, the 10th book in Jim Butcher’s Dresden Files is another tale full of Harry Dresden’s wisecracking and wizardry. In this episode, Harry has been recruited by Mab, Queen of Winter to find and rescue the mob boss, Johnny Marcone. This is a job Harry would never take, except for the fact that he is in debt to Winter and must do it despite his reservations. Regardless of the fact that Harry is being harassed by minions of the Summer Court and that whoever kidnapped Marcone was not only a professional but very powerful, Harry is now on the case.

Asking questions of the right people, Harry discovers who has kidnapped the crime lord and is forced by Marcone’s people to set up a neutral meeting between his abductors and Marcone’s seconds. Macrons’ abductors are none other than the Knights of the Blackened Denarius, mages who have been possessed by fallen angels. Talks of this sort need neutral ground and a neutral negotiator. Harry decides that a meeting this dangerous requires a powerful negotiator and calls in the Archive, the living repository of all knowledge. Getting this sort of meeting set up while being stalked by Queen Titania’s enforcers taxes Harry’s resources. Living through the talks could be even harder.

I find that I enjoy this series for several reasons. The largest of those reasons is Butcher’s voice. Undoubtedly, his characters are of a sort who have lives that readers love to follow. I even find his secondary characters to be fascinating. Bob, Mouse and Mister are some of my favorites, and I love to hear about them. His fantasy Chicago, full of hidden magic and faerie creatures is also very compelling to us mortals stuck in our mundane lives. However, it is his voice that brings it all to life. The character dialog, Harry’s internal dialog, and his pop culture reference riddled descriptions make this reader feel as if the story was written specifically for me. If Mike Hammer was a wizard living in modern-day Chicago and had a fondness for sarcasm and snappy comebacks, his name would be Harry Dresden.

Butcher’s fans will definitely devour this one just like the last nine. It has all the elements, danger, magic, romantic undertones, wisecracks, a multitude of pop culture references, evil beasties and arrogant bad guys, mayhem, threats, faeries, vampires and even the billy goats gruff. Seriously, they are there, I kid you not (pun intended).

Mad Dogs

Sun, 09 Mar 2008 16:34:19 -0400

As actor Jamey Sheppard is road-tripping from Los Angeles to Arizona to reunite with his fiancee for their wedding, the future looks brighter than gold...until the best day in his life turns into the worst when he's arrested for a high profile crime.

But Jamey's no criminal. He's only played one on TV.

From the moment Jamey's mistaken for Duncan MacGregor, the real-life renegade he just portrayed in a re-enactment segment on American Fugitives, Jamey's life can never be the same...especially once the real Duncan MacGregor comes out of hiding to track down the man everyone is giving credit for his crimes.

Within days, in a twist that even American Fugitives couldn't have seen coming, these two men's fates are intertwined as the ricochet down a road filled with the world's dumbest bounty hunters, Hollywood deal makers and wannabes, cops on both sides of the law, a metal-plated ex-con with a prehistoric outlook on life, an impromptu right-wing death squad, a merciless Jay Leno, and the most dangerous people of all when it comes to grudges and vengance:

Family.

Staying on the run could be the best career move Jamey's ever made...if he can just live long enough to sign on the dotted line.

One of the best things about Mad Dogs is the great premise that lies at its core. A man who portrayed a criminal on TV is mistaken for that criminal then is involved in an accidental shooting of a cop. The paths of the actor and the criminal he portrayed intersect then run together. There is a lot of potential in that deceptively simple premise to explore themes of identity; to have great tension filled moments due to the way that the police always react to a cop killing; and blundering, thrilling moments where the protagonist has to behave in a way that is alien to him in order to survive. All of these, and other great moments, are scattered through out but Mad Dogs does, at times, get away from itself in the telling.

One thing that can be distracting at times with Mad Dogs is the large cast of quirky secondary characters. They become defined, in large part, by their gimmicks. As a result they come off as inconsequential and ultimately forgettable. There are even times when their defining characteristics countermand the role that has been set for them. For example: If you are being told that a pair of characters are supposed to be dangerous, or more specifically, are to pose a threat to the protagonist, but they are such bumbling fuck-ups that their threat is never taken seriously by the reader then have they failed in their purpose? In one sense no, because they ARE in fact entertaining and funny. But in another sense yes, since they are supposed to be a menace but aren't.

But there are bigger problems that dog the book that run just a bit deeper then two dimensional characters. After the exiting first chapter there is a certain level of dramatic tension that has been built up, and is expected to be built upon and utilized in subsequent chapters, that quickly gets squandered. For example, soon after getting the case the lead detective believes not only in the innocence of Jamey but that the shooting was accidental too. So their is no reason for Jamey to be on the run any longer. Then the detective has the opportunity to get word to Jamey that he believes it was an accident. Since the stated reason for Jamey to stay on the run is now gone Hodge had to come up with a way to delay the inevitable. Cue the aforementioned secondary characters.

Its hard when a book releases the dramatic tension thats been built up then expects the reader to just buy into an artificial rebuilding of it. We see this again later on after Duncan and Jamey have come together. The cops think they are going to Vegas, so they don't, and viola they lost the cops. I mean why kill a cop in the first place if you aren't going to exploit the dramatic tension that is inherent in just such an act.

This ties into another problem that is tangential to the loss of dramatic tension, the loss of momentum. A certain level of kineticisim has been built up by the time that Jamey and Duncan have met and the easy loss of a pursurer leads them to a state of inertia that lulls the middle part of the book. Unfortunately Mad Dogs never quite manages to recover from that loss of momentum. Its in this slow middle portion that a subtle shift occurs in Jamey, he stays on the run not because he has to but because he wants to. The exterior reasons for staying on the run have now been fully stripped away, its a subtle shift in reasoning but its one that makes all the difference in the world.

Ultimately Mad Dogs is a sprawling ambitious novel with a great premise that spins out of control at times but still entertains on a lot of levels. It may take some sifting to find the flakes of gold, but they are there. This is Hodges first crime novel and if Mad Dogs isnt yet enough to make us shout 'Theres gold in them thar hills' I feel certain that Hodges future crime novels will.

--Brian Lindenmuth