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.

An old Russian storyteller presents stories that revolve around a magical golden bear in this slow and stilted foray into Russian folklore and history. The premise holds promise, but unbelievable characters and a disjointed narrative suck the life from it from the beginning.
Papa Grigory, who alternately tells the story of a romance between Rosa, a young woman blessed (or cursed) with magical gifts, and Daniel, a writer who is often fearful and lacks direction, and the history of the enchanted golden bear, which brings the unlikely couple back together after an affair carried on before the book opens. Rosa, who lives in St. Petersburg with her uncle, calls upon Daniel when contractors find the bear hidden within the walls of a building her uncle has purchased. It is in a bathhouse, where, it is explained, sorcerers practice magic. Now, I don’t know a great deal about Russian folklore, but this seems a bit strange to me. The bear is dirty but might be valuable, so Daniel, who is educated in Russian history, is pleased when Rosa asks for his help, not only because he is interested in the bear, but because he is still quite interested in her. Apparently their affair ended badly without sufficient explanation from Rosa, who seems to prefer very short and physically motivated relationships for a reason she finally reveals to him at the end of the book.
When Daniel and his work colleague, Em, take the bear out of town for closer inspection by someone more qualified than Daniel, the bear takes them on a journey to Skazki, an alternate world. They both seem to accept this without too much disbelief, which is, well, pretty unbelievable, especially considering that Em is extremely practical and rather fearless. She has a child from a failed marriage who she doesn’t see and in whom she only has a cursory interest, and is referred to by her co-workers as “frozen solid.” The story starts to feel very much like The Wizard of Oz, and eventually Daniel mentions this to Em: “We’re like two rejects from Oz, Em. You don’t have a heart, and I have no courage.”
While Daniel and Em are trapped in this dangerous world, attempting to take the bear to the Snow Witch, who, they are told, will help them back to Mir, their own world, Rosa is frantically trying to learn the magic she needs to enter this other world and save them. In a house in the country where she poses as a tutor for a young boy, the boy’s father trains her, slowly, in the spells she needs to safely cross the veil that separates the worlds and keep herself from danger once she is there. His wife is jealous, his daughter is possessed by love for her dead husband, and his new son in law is lost in the midst of his love for the possessed girl and his physical desire for Rosa.
The only respite from this complicated drama is the interludes regarding the history of the bear and its creation and importance in the maintenance of balance between the two worlds, along with Papa Grigory’s involvement with the whole business. He admits he is not always known by this name, as some call him Koschey the Deathless, others, the mad monk, and yet others, Chyort, or the devil. His emotional investment in the bear and the consequences of its use or misuse (which of course is all a matter of perspective) is very human for a supernatural creature, and the most believable of the feelings described in the book. The other characters are inconsistent in their behavior and speech, and the relationships between them are not well developed. Em, for example, is very focused on her career and clearly used to the finer things in life, but under pressure in Skazki she can bake bread from memory, sew, and fashion shoes from bark and fur. Daniel is mysteriously fearful and fussy about everything and often annoyingly close to tears. Rosa loves Daniel and is prepared to risk her life to save him, but in the meantime, she is attracted to various men and fantasizes about having sex with them. While studying with the wizard-magician on his farm, she rolls around with the son in law in the barn, Daniel quickly forgotten as she initiates sex with this poor young man, who has been deprived of his husbandly rights with his wife because she is possessed by her love for her dead husband. After a playful and explicit romp in the hay, the pair go into the farmhouse and Rosa explains that a spell has been cast to make him impotent in his wife’s bed, and once that is lifted, she asks if he would like to check to make sure it is gone. It is very hard to believe that Rosa adores Daniel as she claims, when it is so easy for her to be intimate with other men.
This was a hard book to finish. Why is Rosa afraid of a serious relationship? What will happen to Papa Grigory and his adopted daughter if the bear is not used as he wills it? Will Em and Daniel make it out of Skazki alive? Will Rosa sleep with every man she meets, and if so, how will she have the time to learn magic spells? Who cares? With lines like this: “She dropped his hand, and sucked the blood off her fingers. It fizzed like sherbet on her tongue,” and characters as flat as Russia’s tax rate, the ending does not come soon enough.

Coming from a different direction, Peter David explores the Peter Pan legend through the eyes of Paul, a young man whose family has experienced a terrible loss. Paul's baby sister dies in her crib one night. His family deals with this tragedy in different ways. Paul's mother retreats into reality, declaring that only the recognition of the pain of life will make one strong enough to survive. Paul's father simply retreats, leaving his family and the woman who used to be his wife but is now a stranger. Paul relies on what he believes - that his friend, the Boy of Legend, and the magic that surrounds the Boy can somehow replace his sister with another baby. After rescuing a pixie, Paul finds himself led into Anyplace and embroiled in a power struggle between the pirates and the Boy. Thus begins an adventure for Paul that will cause him to question his beliefs and face the most difficult pain of all - saying goodbye.

His quest is not all rainbows and roses. Peter David, the author, weaves the thread of loss and loneliness heavily throughout the story. While some might believe the subject matter of sadness and rejection are too much for younger readers, I disagree. What child has never experienced some type of loss? This is an excellent example of how one little boy deals with the pain he is feeling.

Mr. David writes in a lyrical prose that is a work of art. Unfortunately, the structure and cadence of the writing serves to separate the reader from the story, keeping the reader from participating in the fantasy, experiencing the wonder alongside Paul. Instead, a gulf has been formed, maintaining a strict formality of here is the story and over there stands the reader. For readers who enjoy submerging themselves into a book's reality, this will be a disappointment.

In spite of this, or maybe because of it, I enjoyed this story. The formality and separation served to give the book an old-fashioned feel, as if this was a dusty favorite resurrected from the nursery. The style of the book gives it a sense of being made to read out loud. The cadence lends itself to auditory emphasis and perhaps would be more entertaining to children to listen to the story rather than read it themselves. Peter David goes behind the scenes of NeverNever Land, giving bones and structure to a legend that has spanned generations. He brings in many well-known characters from Peter Pan, giving them fresh faces and different reasons for existing. The new characters are blended seamlessly in with the previous legends, causing Tigerheart to be able to stand on its own.

This is a deep story that would bear well under the scrutiny of a literature class. The nuances of the storyline, though delicate, are clear. Here is a young man struggling to understand the abandonment by his mother, the painful escape of his father, and the harshness reality can bring to life. Mr. David ties up all his loose ends in the end, delivering a whimsical tale that harkens back to the elegance of turn-of-the- century literature.

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.

Fans of Asimov will recognize the bare bones of later works in Pebble in the Sky, his first published fiction novel. This story takes place many years before the Foundation series and contains some hints of these stories yet to come. The Galactic Empire has spread and continues to grow in all directions. Trantor is the capital and central world of the Empire, operating a massive bureaucracy from its political hub. At this time, however, Earthlings are still living on the surface of the planet and are isolated from the rest of the human population. Planetary prejudice and political unrest have reinforced this separatist notion, making Earth a backwater assignment no imperial servant wants.

Life on Earth is hard. There are limited resources and the suspicion of radiation poisoning colors everything. Society is run by a quasi-religious order that enforces the life limitation of sixty years, ostensibly to make room for others who are being born. Many seem content to live only sixty years, but others are always on the lookout for ways to avoid the mandated euthanasia.

Into this world drops (literally) Joseph Schwartz. Due to an unfortunate accident in a nuclear lab in 1949, Mr. Schwartz is thrown forward in time by millennia and finds himself living in an ultra-modern Earth. Not as easy as it seems, as language has continued to evolve and he can’t understand anything. In addition, humanity itself has physically evolved which makes Schwartz an ancient version of unknown homo sapiens. Even worse, Schwartz is 62 - two years past the enforced Sixty rule and destined to die.

This is not a dark, dystopic story, however, and is infused with Asimov’s usual intelligent humor. Political maneuvering and scientific discoveries go hand-in-hand as Schwartz makes new friends and struggles to survive. The Empire is forced to recognize Earth as a power to be reckoned with, but this may or may not be good for the Earthlings in general and Schwartz in particular.

Asimov was truly a master, delineating the scope of science fiction as a genre. He breathed intelligence and real science into his fiction, making his writing one of the best examples of what true science fiction is. His characters are believable, some likeable and others not, and somehow he always works a twist into the plot where the reader least expects it. Even more, Asimov pushes the readers to examine both self and society. He seems to want readers to acknowledge the negatives of humanity and then celebrate the positives. That which makes us as humans great can also be that which causes us to destroy ourselves.

If you are a fan of Asimov, you should read his first scifi book Pebble in the Sky. If you have never dabbled into Asimov, or any science fiction for that matter, dip a toe into this book. I think you might find the water is just to your liking!

Tick, an introverted and intelligent young man suddenly receives a mysterious letter. By opening it, Tick launches himself on an adventure of a lifetime. Each subsequent letter holds a quirky and sometimes humorous clue, promising Tick danger if he continues and harm to others if he quits. Intrigued and compelled, he pursues each clue vigorously in spite of the risk involved. The mysterious clues drag him across the country and introduce him to a spitfire Italian girl and an all-American jock from California. Banding together, the trio commits to seeing the mystery through.

At the root of it all are concepts of time and reality, the forces that bind and drive creation. In The Thirteenth Reality, Tick discovers more than one reality exists. Life as he knows it continues in Reality Prime while as many as thirteen other Earths continue on different planes of existence. If this seems overwhelming, don’t worry. Dashner lays out his concept of parallel realities in a manner young readers can understand. Even the basis of quantum physics, aka kyoopy, becomes approachable!

I enjoy how Dashner portrays Tick’s relationship with his family. Too many times, parents are viewed as either the idiot contingency or the evil overseers. Not here. Tick’s sisters drive him nuts but he still obviously loves them. Tick’s dad is a wonderful character that supports and trusts him even though this means letting go of his little boy. In a world where Tick is often a target, at home he is safe and loved. Maybe that isn’t realistic, but who said fantasy had to be reality? Perhaps a little wishful thinking would do us all some good.

I liked this story. There are a few classic aspects that walk on stage, but these are presented in a fresh and believable manner. The evil witch (dressed in lemon), a giant with a quasi-Cockney accent, a dwarf as round as he is tall, mechanistic magic that blurs the line between technology and fantasy; all delivered in wrapping paper designed by Dashner himself. He writes in bold colors, splashing strong characters across the pages who demand your attention (and sometimes your fear).

This isn’t a sweet little fairy tale, bad things happen and our hero is faced with tough decisions. Dashner quietly leads his readers from an odd mystery into a hair-raising quest complete with flesh-eating monsters. As odd as some of the scenes are, though, the entire thing holds together. This is definitely a book young readers should sample.

The vision of a bridge probably invokes the feeling of simplicity, a means to go from A to B or vice versa, at time ornate, but more likely, sensible, serviceable, and functional, but bridges in fiction have led us to many memorable moments. Whether the Bridge of Khazad-dûm, Goats Gruff, Jon Orr, or perhaps most memorable to me, a standoff between brothers, Benedict and Brand, fans of speculative fiction have tread many bridges and with Shadow Bridge, Gregory Frost brings to us a world made of bridges, bringing a literal walkways to the figurative that exists all around us.

Our travels take us to different spans, an apt description considering our protagonist‘s ‘magic’ is in her hands - a master shadow puppeteer - as she looks back on her travels, collecting and sharing stories, and performing in a manner that had not been witnessed since a generation before. Leodora, whose stage name, Jax, relays not only the stories of the myth, but draws audiences from members of the pantheon who inhabit such stories. Relegated to a caste that views a potential marriage to the dimwit son of a lackluster family in the hinterlands as an optimal destiny, Leodora, the local pariah, who knows very little but lies and gossip regarding her eclectic parentage runs off to pursue her father’s trade. Bardsham the last master shadow puppeteer - and the greatest.

The town drunkard was the first to bring Leodora to Tenikemac as a baby and he would accompany her as she fled. Soter, the man who preserved the legacy of Bardsham, the puppets of the former master of shadow play, and passed them to his heir. Soter is the bridge to the past, prone to converse with the dead, and while his intent seems true, you get the distinct impressions he does his best to lay low, perpetually on the run but nor trying to look like it and his new, or perhaps life-long charge has raised the stakes. Is his habit due to reflecting on past digressions or the future he was waiting for? Or perhaps - he just enjoys his drink. There is guilt, there is pride, and a sense of duty.

In between the travels, two deviations highlight the novel. One to tell the story of the company’s third member picked up along the way . It’s a the story of a boy left abandoned with an abandoned home who is used as bait for a divine lottery and then sold to service to a Harem with a twist -drinks and spirits included. A musical savant/avatar, you lose yourself in his song, as although brief telling you get completely immersed and you don’t realize you left one story for another - it was always about Diverus wasn’t it? - until a member of the audience reveals a familiar face. We also get a recurring story, of creation and death, a tale of a fisherman - the original dreamer - and his wife, that adds to the immediacy of the story as they recount the mythology and origin of Shadow Bridge itself.

There is a fourth member, the secret companion, an enigma that will remain as such…

The most amazing aspect of the novel may be its constraint. There is a real story. Frost can go anywhere, along the bridges of a multiverse, and he seemingly does, but it all spirals back, every step is relevant, even if we don’t know it as a fact when we whimsically take it, at once Florentine and Shinto. But it never just dissolves into a fever dream - the characters and their problems are substantial, if it is an experiment, they are the control. What made something like Amber such a terrific read was that you while one can clearly witness the endless possibilities of walking through Shadow, Zelazny never forgot his story; and while Frost’s weave and use of point-of-view is a bit more ambitious, you only ever lose the story long enough for it to find you around the next corner. The segues from one environment to another, from one span to another is smooth. It doesn’t come off as abrupt absurdism, it’s not a book that demands constant leaps of faith even when we find ourselves in mid-jump, and it is able to maintain an authentic feeling of travelers on the road. For this reason, Frost’s makes us feel we are not seeing his finished products being deconstructed recorded on paper , we feel like we are there as he constructs it. The telling is as refined as the product thus far.

Often times when following a troupe’s travels in our reading, the journey feels as if it’s what occurs between the author’s real passion or the exact opposite, destinations are end point, rest areas in between the actions create bonds between characters in the process of running away from troubles or chasing after themselves - and in the aptly titled Shadow Bridge we have both. Nothing feels like an extensions of the other, everything is unique, everything is fantastic, we touch the mythic, we share stories with gods, then we go to find our next job, drink our next beer, catch our next fish, stare at and converse with our monuments, we play board games…with Kitsune.

A planned duology, what we also see is the development of a concept - a universe - for even more stories whether future novels or short fiction to inhabit. From parades to ‘the end’, more stories of the dragon bowl, there is fertile ground for revisiting all manners of stories in a Willinghamish way. There are preexisting cases such as a call back to call back to Frost’s fine collection Attack of the Jazz Giants and other stories, where one story - a Sturgeon finalist - entitled How Meersh the Bedeviler Lost his Toes was referenced, as Leodora viewed her puppets:

And later, the master story teller tells him - the Trickster - to go back to his own story.

It’s a beautiful story but not in the same vein I have described in more recent reviews, it’s not Valente who both whispers and screams at us with the voice that makes us anticipate each equally; Frost charms us in manner like Park did last year, and there is a feint lyric in the background , a harpist in the wind, that is beautiful but has a grace that goes beyond skin deep that brings to mind the strengths of several of my most beloved reads, but only in flashes, before forming its own vision. When confronted with just having the first book in a story, upon reaching its conclusion there are many possible reactions. Disappointment, anticipation, satisfaction, disconcertion and Frost leaves us looking back believing the phrase, "we build too many walls and not enough bridges". As we look forward, the idea that we may be a part of something special is more than a mere passing thought. We aren’t just looking forward to a worthwhile journey, we just stepped out of one., and yet we feel like we are continually chasing it and are never left feeling lethargic as at the same time we sense it stalking us. The novel physically weighs in at well below 300 pages, but you come out of it with more in the experience than you do multiple installment tomes promising swords and truths, blood and stone - you can trip on its shadow.

I’m hooked, the serenity of a fisherman’s dreams and the chaos of the beings who inhabit it offers a middle ground we can all find our place in, in this case one of the best reads of the year and this is just the beginning. I'm a traveling man this year this year; the best books of this year I encountered when walking the road and crossing a bridge.

Jay Tomio
The Bodhisattva

A condemned man known only as Prisoner Zero. A Chinese emperor in the distant future. A young street punk in Marrakech. These are the players in a struggle that spans space and time, a struggle that the fate of humanity will hinge upon. Stamping Butterflies chronicles the roles, no matter how small or large, they will have in deciding not only the future, but the past...

Jon Courtenay Grimwood's followup to his excellent Arabesk trilogy is at once brilliant and frustrating. Grimwood excels at depicting political intrigues and rendering locales in crystal-clear prose that lends immediacy to the streets of Marrakech or the far reaches of the 2023 worlds. Nor can his creativity or his ability with characters and dialogue be disputed.

Yet for all of Stamping Butterflies' ambition that reaches for the stars (both literal and figurative), it falls short. The three main storylines and their associated subplots never come together in a meaningful fashion - leaving the ending rather tacked-on. Furthermore, Grimwood's style of leaving blanks in the story and either filling them in gradually or leaving them for the reader to deduce - while effective at points, all too often breeds confusion here.

It is unfortunate, as there's a lot of potential here, but Stamping Butterflies ultimately can be likened to a runaway train - powerful but uncontrolled. What worked for the Arabesk books just never hits the mark on all counts here. I did enjoy certain aspects of the book in the end - but I honestly can't recommend it otherwise.

My latest review is “Paraworld Zero” by Matthew Peterson. This is a young adult story. Simon Kent is an orphan. He’s never known his parents. He’s a 7th grader in a New York City secondary school that teaches grades 7-12. Small for his age, he gets picked on regularly by the high schoolers, especially by a fellow orphan named Butch. Simon tries to avoid the bullying, for example, by wearing glasses he doesn’t need because “nobody hits a kid with glasses.” It doesn’t work and video games are his only friend.

Simon’s life takes a turn when he learns about his mother and the amulet that she left for him. The next day his high school bullying turns violent. As Simon is running for his life, he meets Tonya, and his life is changed forever. Together they go on an adventure that he never could have imagined, as he learns of parallel universes, magic, other races, and the mysteries of other worlds.

This book follows the Harry Potter template of wizards and magic, the discovery of great wizardly power, and likely a secret destiny to be fulfilled. It combines Star Wars aspects as well, as we see space ships, laser guns, and a group that wishes to bend the ‘paraverse’ to their worldview. These are definitely all elements that a young adult would find very exciting, along with the camaraderie among Simon and the new friends me makes, some teenage crushes, and some funny scenes within the story. It’s a face-paced story with lots of action and character interaction among the kids. Tonya has hair that changes color with her moods, which is an element that I think can really draw in a child reader’s imagination. It has plenty to offer to make it an exciting page-turner for its young adult audience of around 12 or so.

This story is definitely targeted for the young adults though. While I definitely recommend it for that audience it’s not a book that is going to cross over with the adult crowd. The book is 251 pages. The plot develops very quickly without any subtlety that is going to draw in an adult reader. The story could have used at least a few more pages at the beginning to develop Simon the bullied orphan and regular kid before diving headfirst into adventure.

The plot progresses predictably. The good people seem very nice in the story, the bad people very bad, and the moral lessons of the story are painted in sharp black and white. That works well for the kids audience in delivering the message of the story but it’s going to come across as one-dimensional for an adult. I don’t think that there’s any doubt though that the book is written specifically for the young adult audience, and is not attempting to duplicate the widespread multi-audience appeal of Harry Potter.

Paraworld Zero is billed as book one. It sets a solid base for books to come. Book one set the main plot on one particular parallel world, as Simon, Tonya, and friends spent time there and had a number of adventures. We then saw a secondary plot of the politics and goings on in the overall paraverse, involving other characters who will definitely be recurring and may also become major characters. I think this formula of a primary adventure in the nearly limitless number of parallel worlds intertwined with the growing threat to the government and social structure of the universal power structure would work very well. The two aspects came suddenly and a bit jarringly together at the end of the book. I’m not sure if this was done to move the entire series in a different direction or just to provide clarification for the young audience as to what characters were of continuing importance to the plot and how they all related to one another. My personal hope is that it was the latter. The routine travel among countless parallel universes is the most exciting part of the series, along with the development of Simon. Given the large number of parallel universes that were implied it would be a shame if that idea were not used to its potential.

For the young adult audience I rate Paraworld Zero a 7.

“Grand Designs” is a collection of 7 novellas, originally published as eBooks, set in the Star Trek Corps of Engineers series. This is the 9th collection of this series, spun off of Star Trek: The Next Generation and Star Trek: Deep Space Nine. When there is a daunting engineering problem, rather than send in a standard Starfleet vessel and crew, Starfleet can send the U.S.S. da Vinci and its Corps of Engineers. Under the command of Captain Montgomery Scott at Starfleet Command, no engineering problem is too great for Captain Gold and his crew.

The collection brought us stories by Allyn Gibson, Kevin Killiany, Dayton Ward & Kevin Dilmore, David Mack, Dave Galanter, and Paul Kupperberg. Almost all of them have written in the Corp of Engineers series before, and that showed as they seemed to have a good handle on the characters. As hinted by the title Grand Designs, all of the projects facing the crew in this book were large, with big implications. I also thought all the stories were original, deviating from the usual Starfleet objectives of diplomacy, conflict resolution, or armed conflict. I found this crew to be very engaging and likeable. As I compared it to a couple other crews from extensions of the Star Trek Universe I found that my interest in this crew of characters was rivaled, in my opinion, only by Peter David’s New Frontiers crew.

I do feel that one cannot just step into this book and read from the beginning. There are events that are referenced repeatedly in the novellas which I would presume occurred in a recent book. The crew is still reeling from the loss of 23 crew members in some tragedy on a recent mission, and were still becoming comfortable with a few of the characters in this version of the crew, who were new replacements for fallen comrades. While this was referenced plenty of times in the stories, actually reading these events would probably make those elements more relevant and powerful.

This brings me to one thing that annoyed me about the book. Certain impressions and descriptions of characters, how they were disliked by other crew members or were not yet comfortable because they were filling the post of a fallen crewmember who was greatly beloved, were continually outlined almost verbatim in most of the seven stories. That may be a function of the editing rather than the writing. I can see how the information is relevant in understanding characters and how they relate to one another. But when each story is part of a collection there is no need to be repetitive with that information. When I got to those sections it just felt like an annoying case of déjà vu.

I have to also mention that this book is 627 pages of novellas about an entire crew of engineers. There will be a lot of classic Star Trek technobabble in the stories. If you’re a person who gets lost in all that discussion this book, and probably the entire series I’d guess, may not be for you. I have never been put off by the technobabble but even I found my head spinning by many discussions of probability, the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle, and Schrodinger’s Cat in the last story, which was otherwise one of my two favorites in the book.

Doyle is an experienced space traveler who has agreed to do one more test run of the galactic space ship Gaea-02. Life on Earth has become unbearable with the shortage of drinkable water. The solution is to send the ship to a far off planet covered in water, a trip that will take ten years. Doyle has agreed to spend six months training the new pilot and then retire. But life didn’t work that way. When he wakes up from his three month hibernation he and the crew discover that a nuclear war has occurred on Earth. They have a deadly decision to make.

I was pumped to read this story. Here is a debut author creating a new world, with innovative technology and a different take on science fiction. His first chapters showcase deep emotions and relationships, not just “shoot’em up” space opera. I was a little disappointed. P.D. Gilson gives us a great back story and allows the reader to meet each one of his characters, explaining their viewpoints through the use of flashbacks into their past. However, the potential greatness of the book was lost due to very jerky transitions and a lack of depth to the plot.

This is a lightweight story. What you see is what you get, much like an episode on television. The bright, almost cartoonish characters never really take on a life of their own. Their actions are predictable and stereotypical. The cadence of the book did finally pick up towards the end and the author managed to surprise me with his wrap-up. But the promise of the first chapters was never delivered.

Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed reading the book. I liked meeting the characters and I hope there will be a sequel. It is a nice way to spend a couple of hours, but I doubt I will ever read it again.

John Dies At The End began as a short story on author David Wong's website. Due to popular demand, it was expanded into a serial posted in installments and finally published in book form.

Featuring Wong himself as the narrator of his and the titular John's adventures, John Dies At The End takes place in a nameless Midwestern town. After being introduced to a mysterious drug - dubbed "Soy Sauce" due to the resemblance to same - Dave and John realize that an unknown evil is being unleashed on the world as an effect of Soy Sauce use. Due to the evidently permanent effects of Soy Sauce, they are the only ones who can act to stop it, much less even see the hideous things that stalk among their fellow humans. They will confront everything from malformed interdimensional horrors to things spawned of their own nightmares.

On the surface, John Dies At The End appears to draw a bit of inspiration from various sources like Stephen King's It, the classic 80s horror film From Beyond and even Ghostbusters - but Wong's imagination far outpaces even them. Every time I thought I'd seen it all, Wong invented something else - from the prologue featuring a creature spawned from the contents of a meat locker to the bizarre "flesh spiders".

I also enjoyed Wong's warped sense of humor - with everything from slapstick humor to sarcastic commentary coming into play as he narrates his and John's increasingly bizarre adventures. Despite this - the story does manage to accomplish a certain amount of terror at times. In particular, the idea that only Dave and John can see the things invading their world lends itself well to a number of particularly spooky moments - like the apparitions appearing in a reflected TV screen.

Granted, there are some parts of the story that don't quite work and with so much going on, Wong seems to have left some things unclear, like the purpose of the underground chamber beneath the Jamaican's trailer or the origin of Soy Sauce. However, Wong's afterword states a sequel is in the works - which may help clear up some of the mystery.

All in all, I'd have to say I enjoyed the book - it sets out to be entertaining without taking itself too seriously and accomplishes exactly that.

“The Buried Age” by Christopher Bennett finally tells the of the events in Captain Jean-Luc Picard’s life from the time of the Ferengi ambush that led to the loss of the Stargazer up until the very beginning of him taking command of the Enterprise. “The Buried Age” refers to the discovery of previously unknown history of the galaxy, but also to that buried age in the Star Trek timeline that had remained ignored until now.

It’s always been intriguing, as it was teased in the first season episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation where we saw the return of the Stargazer and the revelation that it was the Ferengi behind the attack. Other episodes also alluded to the fact that Picard captained The Stargazer for quite along time. But in classic Next Generation style of never bogging things down with character development, as they really disliked anything other than standalone episodes, they never discussed that era of Picard’s life in greater detail.

It begged to be written and now all these years later Christopher Bennett has filled in that gap. This was not a classic “Starfleet” story either. Picard’s love of archeology comes to the forefront. We also get some insight into the psychology of the man, what makes him tick, and why the Picard we would later see remains by and large aloof from the rest of his crew.

Another of the shows mysteries, the character of Guinan, gets a little exploration as well. We also get to see Picard’s first meetings with a couple familiar faces, which meshes very well with the show’s feel that Picard had a slightly higher level of trust or relationship with these characters.

Bennett obviously did a good amount of research into the show itself and offered up answers to a lot of loose ends or unexplained questions regarding how certain things came to be on The Enterprise. The story itself was very engaging, but tying things into the show that we know was also a nice treat.

Picard is on the trail of perhaps the most significant archeological find in the history of the galaxy. Still he manages to discover more than he had expected. Probably the biggest revelation of the book came well before the end of the book. In reading the story and knowing the show, I expected something. That something came before the very end of the book which managed to add surprise to it. To a small extent the last section of the book were somewhat anti-climactic and maybe a bit more typical of a Star Trek book with some Starfleet ship combat and of course another win for the Federation. However, that led to a couple unexpected characters getting to come to the forefront. As a fan of the show that did add to the book. Those were the sort of surprises that the book had to reveal, as opposed to huge plotline surprises, since the events had to remain consistent with the history established on the show. So no visits to the homeworld of The Borg for Picard in this book.

I liked how great effort was made to develop Picard and some of his relationships and give the story the feel of belonging in the history of the characters, as opposed to it just being another adventure they went on that didn’t happen to make it to the TV screen. This book added a fullness to the character of Captain Jean-Luc Picard that was not there before. I could see Bennett doing additional novels on behalf of some of the other characters. Perhaps someone else will take the torch from him, but I would like to see Bennett take on Lieutenant Worf or Commander Data. If he does I will be watching the bookshelves for those novels.

McDevitt returns readers to his well-known character Priscilla “Hutch” Hutchins, Academy starship captain and willing space explorer. While remains of several civilizations have been discovered, no living intelligent societies have ever been located. In fact, at this point in the story the official opinion is that no such life forms exist. However, a civil organization calling themselves the Contact Society firmly believes the establishment is wrong. When an alien satellite begins broadcasting to an unknown receiver, they demand a full expedition take place and commission Hutch as their captain.

I always enjoy McDevitt’s work. His talents lie in making science fiction seem completely believable. The technology is well-crafted and I enjoy the idea that space exploration calls for archeologists as much as NASA scientists. He doesn’t answer all the questions, but leaves a bit of mystery to intrigue his readers. The people are very real and always seem to remind me of someone I know. chindi continues this tradition, containing characters complete with blind spots, hang-ups, and as many opportunities for mistakes as brilliance. This is not a book for readers who need a neat and tidy package with all loose ends firmly tied. Like real archeology, the reader never gets the entire picture. The search, however, is addictive and completely worthwhile.

Likeable as chindi is, I felt the ending lacked the usual punch. He had me totally involved until the very end and then lost me in the grand finale. Yes, we are talking about alien life forms, but what happens at the end of chindi is too alien for me and therefore anticlimactic. Having said that, I have read this book several times and enjoyed it each time. The story is good, even if the end is a little campy. If you like McDevitt, definitely continue exploring space with Hutch. If you haven’t tried any of his books, feel free to start with this one. Each book can stand alone and I think chindi is worth it.

Jethri was born on a Terran trade ship piloted by his mother and crewed by various relatives, for that is how Terran families were structured. Families stay together for the good of the trade and the well-being of the ship. He has spent his 17 years learning trade - the all important transport and distribution of goods between worlds. Trade keeps spaceports functioning and enables Terrans to live on worlds where they cannot grow or make all they need to live. In an attempt to help out another trader, Jethri is launched into an adventure that will alter his well-established life path completely. As Jethri learns to navigate the intricate life of a master trader, he finds himself catapulted into an unknown culture as an unlikely Terran ambassador in a sometimes hostile environment.

Lee and Miller have created an entire universe where Terrans (humans) like Jethri live in an uneasy truce with Liadens. In fact, the stories of this universe spanned seven books, with Jethri’s story in the Balance of Trade being the eighth. Liadens sound very much like humans with a few physical differences, height and skin color mainly. The main difference would be culture. Liaden society is balanced with complicated social strictures and forms, the most dominant being the bow. A bow to another Liaden communicates volumes of information, not the least of which is who holds the power in the situation. Bows can even, as Jethri finds out, precipitate family feuds.

I found this a delightful story. As an armchair traveler, I reveled in the nuances of Liaden culture and the places I was able to see. I feel Balance of Trade is well able to stand on its own because the authors do an excellent job of building characters. I feel I truly met each person, even the subsidiary ones. The setting was so thoroughly described I am sure I would recognize each place if I were able to actually visit. Yet the authors do this without excessive verbiage. I also found my curiosity piqued by some of the back story regarding Old Tech and Jethri’s ancestors. Rather than take away from this story, however, I am encouraged to seek out the previous books.

This story contains new (or old?) technology, a touch of intrigue, and an insight into how one person handles extreme culture shock. I loved the juxtaposition of cultures in this book - the outspoken Terrans and the introverted Liadens. Yet each in their own way were rigidly controlled by their social norms and expectations. Ultimately this story is a coming-of-age experience where a young boy faces challenges internal and external, eventually finding his heart’s home in the end.