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.

The Shadow Pavilion, the fourth in the Detective Inspector Chan adventures certainly carries through with the promise of an entertaining read. DI Chen, Shanghai Three’s Police Liaison with Heaven and Hell, is after whatever group is illegally bringing in residents of Hell as cheap labor. He has two of the best working on it when they disappear. Seneschal Zhu Irzh is not only a demon but a terrific operative in his own right and was sent in with Badger, who can take care of himself. Now Chen has to find out where they’ve gone and still get to the bottom of the issue. It doesn’t help when he finds out that the newly crowned Celestial Emperor is under an attempted assassination and that a shortcutting scriptwriter has imported a Tiger demon to impersonate a movie star and that she is now on the loose and in a starlet-sized snit.

Liz Williams has created an interestingly enjoyable fantasy/scifi/adventure. This one sort of defies classification as Singapore Three is futuresque but with her addition of the realms of Hell and Heaven and all their dream- and nightmarescape denizens, the tale takes on a mythological bent that makes for fascinating reading. She has begun to flesh out some of the secondary characters more – we get to see from the perspective of Badger, a Hellish family familiar with fierce loyalties to Chen and his wife; we also get a little more perspective from the Celestial Emperor; as well as Chen’s wife Inari. As usual we have some new secondary characters, new demons, foolish humans, and the most successful assassin of all time to keep us amused.

With all due speed Williams draws us into the intrigue, imbuing our imaginations with vivid images full of color and scent that make her stories come alive. With this descriptive skill she lures us in. Then, like the sticky strands of a spider’s web, we get trapped and held by a story that is so full of life we cannot even decide what to call it. Is it futuristic police procedural? Is it an allegorical fairy tale? Near future occult? Perhaps an alternative historical fantasy? Whatever you would like to call it, I’ll just call it something I want more of. Fans of the previous three will not be disappointed.

“A Druid Born” is an uplifting tale of adventure and self-discovery, told from the point of view of a young chieftan’s daughter, Regan. Narrated from a first-person perspective, we follow Regan as she faces personal challenges and learns about herself and her blossoming abilities. Magic is present mildly throughout the story, in the form of shamanistic rites, visions, or herbal remedies.

For its target audience, this novel will be quite a treat. The writing is competent and solid, and the pages fly by. Unlike many books for younger readers, it does not come off as juvenile, but maintains a dignified maturity that is refreshing. The subject matter and events are mostly personal in nature, and include the kinds of things that young readers might themselves be facing: conflict with the wishes of parents, and changes brought about by approaching adulthood. In contrast to the book’s title, there is very little that is dark, and nothing I’d call disturbing. The drama is dealt with gently, with a responsible eye toward impressionable readers.

Druidic culture is lightly showcased, and there is a flavor of Celtic life throughout. At times I wanted to see more of this, however, as it felt like the author was only scratching the surface of a deeper ability she has in this regard.

The bond between mother and daughter is central, and is presented in a way that may be particularly appealing to young female readers. Regan’s family situation in the story is a little unusual, and her desire to be close to the spirit of her mother becomes an important part of her quest.

There are a few drawbacks worth mentioning. Foremost is the shortness of the book. The text comprises what would only be two or three chapters in similar novels. A dedicated reader would require only a couple of afternoons to finish the short novel. Though meant for less experienced readers, it seemed that more could have been written. The language, as well, seemed a touch too simple. Perhaps this is simply due to my bias as an adult reader.

Also, I found the characters to be slightly shallow and underdeveloped. Given the few pages to work with, it’s to be expected, perhaps. Additionally, there are some minor anachronisms which pop out here and there – unlikely references to real-world places and history that pulled me out of the story as I read. These were only slight distractions, however.

Additionally, the first-person perspective has a way of narrowing the story. It decreases the potential for characters other than Regan to be interesting, and detracts a little bit from tension that might exist otherwise – we know nothing bad will happen to Regan, because she’s retelling the story for us.

The book finishes on an optimistic note, as Regan completes her journey ready to take on the world and her approaching womanhood. “A Druid Born” very much has the feel of a motivational work. It was a pleasant, if brief, read, and one which I would not hesitate to recommend to readers aged 10-16.

Poltergeist by Kat Richardson is an interesting read full of Seattle history and places, tidbits on creating magical illusion and a winding plot that leads you down misting alleys, much as you find in the real Seattle. These things are the strength of the book, but for me a sometimes weakness; some of the facts go on a bit too long and resemble dreaded info dumps. Most are quite necessary, but there are occasions when they are a tad dry.

Harper Blaine is a greywalker, a woman able to see into a shadowy realm of ghosts and monsters—a kind of nether world that exists between the living and the dead. She is a private investigator called in to prove that someone is adding a bit of mundane trickery to a paranormal experiment. Of course, the trickery proves to be a real paranormal phenomena, but Harper’s client doesn’t believe in the paranormal even though his experiment was supposed to prove or disprove it one way or the other. The ole, “scientist had his mind made up before the experiment” alongside “accomplish a few things not in the notes” type of non-scientific approach to lab work. The situation creates an interesting set of circumstances and characters.

Richardson is very skilled at creating characters, although I found most of the side characters to have more personality than Harper. I couldn’t fall in love with Harper—too many of her actions were mechanical; she’s very scientific and precise in moving forward through the investigation. Though there are little things, such as a pet hamster, I just couldn’t warm to her. Luckily the plot is quite strong and drives the book. What is causing the paranormal activity? When one of the assistants working on the experiment is found dead, there are many fascinating questions to explore. Was a human responsible or did the paranormal entity get out of hand? Who or what is calling the entity and what is it? Can it be stopped? And if so, how?

These questions propel the reader forward. The grey world is explored and doled out to the reader at a nice pace; it is never boring, because there is always something new in the in-between.

I enjoyed the novel. It’s another in the line of urban fantasy that is all the rage at the moment. This book fits in well in its spot and it does its job—the plot wraps up and all loose ends are accounted for.

Every once in a while a book comes along that redefines enjoyment and artistry. With Breath and Bone, Carol Berg has achieved just that. The magic in this story lives and breathes in the very words and phrasing of the tale. I have not read a more captivating work of art in sometime.

Readers are drawn seamlessly into Valen’s mind in this first person point of view tale spun effortlessly, woven with magic and such craft as to gift life into its very pages. Valen finds himself between the devil and the deep blue sea as his oaths and renegade reputation catch up with him. Bound to the bastard prince Oriel and struggling against a deadly addiction, he comes the overwhelming realization the kingdom and the very existence of all creation depend on him and his questionable decision making. At the root of it all lies the reason for his grandfather’s madness and the hatred he feels from his father.

The plot twists and turns, knarled like an old tree and filled with unexpected darkness. Hidden motivations come to light and questions raised by the first book in this series, Flesh and Spirit, are answered. The tale is filled with numerous characters yet each has an individual voice so readers easily can keep them straight. More than a typical quest fantasy, Valen struggles with questions many people face. Issues of familial devotion, abandonment, and loyalty are woven within the age-old conflict of whether the ends justify the means. Is saving the lives of hundreds worth the damning of one soul?

I could find no weak link in the golden chain of this story. From beginning to end I was held in thrall by the beauty and blending of myth and magic. Carol Berg is a gifted artist who paints magnificent scenes of prose. The only slightly negative statement I can make is to beware - know that every book you read from now on may suffer in comparison. Here is a book that will compel you to return and enjoy its texture and savor its depth. Bravo, Ms. Berg!

It’s a common rite of passage for children to grow up hearing and telling ghost stories, and in small towns there’s always one or two eccentric individuals people tell stories about. In the small town in rural Vermont where Kate Cypher grew up, the subject of these stories was Del Griswold, aka Potato Girl. We’re introduced to Del in the opening lines, minutes before the new murder.

“When the Potato Girl was murdered, the killer cut out her heat. He buried it,
but the next day, she rose again – from that exact same spot.” Ryan poked the
campfire with a stick for emphasis, sending a shower of sparks up into the night.

A grubby, misfit of a child, Del’s mother had died. Her father was abusive, and some of her brothers had already left the family farm. Described by some as slow, and by others called a retard, Del was in a special education class at school.

The only friends Del had were the other “retards” at school who would never be accepted anyway. Until Kate, lonely and curious, started cutting across the Griswold family farm in the hopes of catching a glimpse of the girl said to ride naked on a limping pony… They said her daddy was her brother, that she had chickens in her bed, that she only ate raw potatoes.

As is often the case, the rumours were exaggerated and the truth was far more interesting. Kate and Del became secret friends. Del’s brother Nicky taught Kate how to shoot, and together they smoked and explored and grew up.

However, once the kids at school figured out Kate talked to Del, she risked being ostracized and tormented along with her alienated friend. Kate did what any grade five student in her place would probably do: she lied, denied her best friend, and her ultimate betrayal happened the day of Del’s murder. Kate has lived with the guilt of what she did, of being the last person other than Del’s killer to see her alive, ever since. As Kate assumes the narrative she tells us:

There isn’t a soul in town who hasn’t heard of the Potato Girl, though. She is,
by all accounts, the most famous resident of New Canaan – which is funny because,
back when she was alive, she was just a skinny kid with scabby knees who, you
could tell just by looking, would never amount to much.

How wrong we all were.

Thirty years after the unsolved murder of her secret best friend, Kate returns home after her mother is burned in a fire. Forced to deal with the fact that Jean Cypher’s mind has almost been lost to Alzheimer’s and that she can no longer function on her own safely, Kate is facing difficult choices about long-term care for her mother, and removing her from the compound she’s called home for three decades.

The night of Kate’s return another girl is murdered in the woods. The murder happens on the old farm property where Del’s family had lived and where Del was murdered, a property close to the commune where Kate grew up, within walking distances of Jean Cypher’s house.

The murders are disturbingly similar. Naked, strangled, a patch of skin removed from the chest. The new crime forces skeptic Kate, who does not believe in life after death or ghosts, to confront her own demons from the past, and to question whether or not her murdered friend Del is, in fact, haunting the woods, tormenting the living, looking for justice.

This story involves intersecting timelines, and this is one of the more challenging approaches to storytelling to pull off. What further complicates PROMISE NOT TO TELL in the beginning is the volume of backstory inserted in chunks in the early chapters. In chapter one Kate is our point of view character, but we are given background on six other characters, with pieces of their history presented to us, and only two of those characters are introduced within the context of current events.

However, the bumps with the timelines are few and soon smooth out. The result is that PROMISE NOT TO TELL does something few books do: It picks up with each successive chapter, and by the middle of the book it’s impossible to put it down. Stories about returning to the home of your childhood to face the ghosts of your past aren’t new, but McMahon puts a unique spin on it. The narrative is simple yet captivating, and although the plot sounds simple enough from the outset – surely Del’s murderer has killed again, after all these years – there are plenty of suspects to sort through, and a number of creepy things happen that will give even the most stalwart skeptic goosebumps. McMahon capitalizes on the childhood fears almost everyone can remember, the groans from the wind, the creaks of an old house, the feeling someone is watching you, and the weight of the guilt that makes you feel as though everyone can see inside your soul and know the lies you’ve told.

PROMISE NOT TO TELL is clear about the kind of story it is, and the significance of past events, from the very beginning. The reader is given hints and teasers about all of the secrets that must be revealed over the course of the book. This may not appeal to some readers, who don’t like obvious foreshadowing. However, McMahon is one of those authors that skillfully hides the truth in plain sight. We know about the Potato Girl’s murder from the opening lines, but it will be several chapters before we have the whole story, while we’re getting background on other characters that doesn’t seem as critical, but McMahon does not indulge herself with unnecessary details. Ultimately, there is a sense everything has contributed to the story.

One of Del’s few real friends describes them as onions, with all these layers to peel off, and the same could be said of PROMISE NOT TO TELL. On the surface, it’s about the journey home, about righting wrongs from your past. Peel away the layers and it’s about friendship, trust, betrayal, guilt.

There are also some interesting subplots to the story. I really appreciated the fact that McMahon didn’t try to hit us over the head with profound revelations or stick the parallels under our nose in such a way to be sure we caught them, and yet they were there. Kate, as a child, not knowing who her father was. Doe, another woman at the compound where Kate lived, giving birth to Raven, and the ultimate revelations about the identity of Raven’s father…

Revelations that would upset Kate’s life and change things for her forever, although she didn’t realize it at the time.

In the current storyline there are other revelations pending, about affairs, about parentage, about secrets others are carrying. What I found of particular interest was how Raven had become Jean’s surrogate daughter of sorts, a more favourable replacement for Kate in her long absence. Upon Kate’s return Raven’s daughter Opal is bonding with Kate, and the jealousy Kate once felt about Raven and her mother has been transferred to Raven as she tries to keep Opal and Kate apart.

There are many other revelations throughout the story, but they never felt forced or contrived to me. You had a sense from the outset that there would be a lot of secrets exposed, and some of them are subtle and stunning, and in their own way as disturbing as the horrific crimes that form the backbone of the story.

In what might seem an unusual move, the opening prologue and last chapter of the book are the only parts not told from Kate’s point of view. We are bookended with Opal’s perspective on events, and while at first I found the shift at the end jarring, I ultimately felt it was fitting.

PROMISE NOT TO TELL proved to be an absorbing read. If you need to sleep try to set it down before you read the first quarter of the book, because after that it’s soon impossible to pry yourself away. I found myself turning the final pages well past midnight, eyes burning but mind racing as I still tried to piece together the truth and guess the outcome. An excellent debut, well worth seeking out.

I look forward to McMahon's next book.

The Unnatural Inquirer is the eighth book in the Nightside series by Simon R. Green. I’d probably have been better off starting with something earlier in the series, because this book felt a bit played out already and tracking the main character’s magical abilities was confusing at times. A lot of time was spent on worldbuilding—why Nightside works the way it does, the cool places on Nightside and the various characters and rules that govern this supernatural seedy, hidden side of London. The setting was actually quite fascinating, but while readers of the series might have been enjoying visiting old and dear characters, I found myself a tad bored with every little stop into yet another place. Each one was unique, but not always necessary in order to forward the story. There were interesting little what-ifs throughout: what-if buildings could rebuild themselves or what if religious zealots really could call down lightening, and the main one, if you could see what the afterlife really looked like, would you want to know?

There were some very dynamic characters in this book: John Taylor, the main character, finds things. He has the ability to look through time and see what happened in the past and then follow the past to the here and now, usually finding the person or object he is after. Of course, he needs enough clues in order for his inner eye to work. As he says, he has to know what question to ask. If he’s looking for an object, he has to know who to look for that might have moved or taken the object. He has to be in the right place. In this book something is blocking his powers, and he is forced into manual mode, searching for a recording of the afterlife without much help from magic.

Suzie “Shotgun Suzie” is Taylor’s girlfriend—and I suspect I would enjoy any Nightside caper that included more of her involvement. I am certain I would enjoy the winding tale of how the two of them came to trust each other enough to work together. In this caper, we instead get Bettie as Taylor’s companion; a reporter from the Unnatural Inquirer—(yes, it’s a play on the magazine and has a similar reputation.)

Bettie appears to be there so that Taylor has someone to talk to. She plays the dumb blonde, asking a lot of questions and supplying info dumps of her own. She was little more than a prop for most of the book.

There were other characters that probably played heavier parts in other books: the mysterious Walker who has the ability to give commands that Must Be Obeyed. He is some sort of enforcer/clean-up/self-appointed cop of Nightside and scenes with Walker were always quite interesting and well-done.

The plot--Taylor is hired by the Unnatural Inquirer to find an Afterlife Recording—a DVD the “newspaper” has already bought and paid for, only it disappeared before delivery. Of course, since it is seen as a valuable object, everyone else wants it too—collectors, religious zealots, the aforementioned Walker and the odd god creature. Taylor’s powers came and went as he tracked down the DVD—blocked by something or someone. I was never quite satisfied with the explanation given; yes, at the end, I knew ‘who’ caused the problem, but not ‘how.’

Perhaps because there are other books in this series, the borders of Taylor’s capabilities were never well-defined in this book. The most interesting scenes were at the beginning of the book where Taylor had use of his power and readers get to experience how he works. As the book progresses, he is steadily blocked—both in mundane ways and as he tries to rely on a few other secondary abilities that he has.

The ending had several battles, but frankly, nothing worrisome. Taylor’s powers just so happened to reappear in time for one or two battles, and when they weren’t working, it didn’t take him very long to talk his way out of trouble or otherwise free himself from disaster.

I wouldn’t hesitate to read one of the earlier novels in this setting because I suspect the whole series is a collection of quick, fun romps through a strangely magical urban setting. The premise for this story was good, the execution of it wandered, and in the end, it was much like bar-hopping with a guide that knows a city well—some places were fun, some had good music, some had interesting people with more than a hint of danger and some were dingy and tired with questionable food.

Demurral, a vicar in a beautiful corner of Britain, is tired of pushing and controlling ignorant peasants. He knows he has the power to rule much more and is willing to do whatever it takes. In fact, he even doubts that God himself is doing a good job. He eagerly uses his power to command the spirits of the dead and release a demon from the crypt. Demurral’s greed, however, starts a war in this repressed community. The common people are challenged to choose sides. Are they for the vicar, the repression and evil he gladly proclaims? Or will they unite, join with the forces of light and overthrow the darkness?

Previously self-published in the United Kingdom, G.P. Taylor received such a great response that his book was picked up by one of the big houses - Faber and Faber. A vicar himself in Yorkshire, G.P. Taylor has put much of the local geography and history into this tale. His descriptions of the seaside and cliffs are one of the strong points in this book, placing the reader in the midst of the setting.

Written for adolescents, the character building in Shadowmancer is deceptively simple. Not much time is spent on each person, but the time spent looks into their deepest hearts. The story is mainly focused on the battle of good and evil - the Holy War fought here on earth. It is a swashbuckling tale of common folk once again being called upon to do their part in the eternal battle, of slaves finding freedom to live again.

For myself, however, the book contains a bit too much lecture for me. I believe in the message spoken throughout this tale, but for me - stories consist of characters. I want to know why they do what they do. At times the action moves so swiftly and the point of view shifts completely, I felt as if I lost the thread of the story.

Since the tale seems to be more important that the characters themselves, though, a reader needs to approach it for what it is. Shadowmancer feels more like a medieval bard’s work - spoken by the light of the fire in return for a loaf and a warm place to sleep. A book I will read to my children, or let them read, as it does not tiptoe around the truth; it pushes and demands the reader to see and compare real life with the tale.

Jude Allman has been hiding a very long time. Jude has a secret. He was once very famous for doing something he had no control over. In fact, he did it three times. Jude died - and then came back to life. The notoriety he gathered, plus the fact he had no idea how it happened, drove him into seclusion. This period of seclusion has now come to a screaming halt, literally.

The Hunter, as he likes to call himself, enjoys stalking little girls. He revels in the hunt and kills them when the thrill is finished. As the Hunter’s activities escalate, Jude begins to realize he may have the power to stop the abductions. When the Hunter gets too close to those Jude loves, then he knows he must act.

T.L. Hines gives us a new and completely different angle to the idea of near-death experiences. This is a suspense-driven novel that at it’s core examines the concept that some people are here for a specific purpose. While it took a few pages for the story to get moving, once it did the author was able to keep the momentum building. The point of view shifts between several characters, effectively hiding the identity of the Hunter until the very end.

I enjoyed reading this book as much as T.L. Hines’ second story - The Dead Whisper On. Both books are published by Bethany House, a company that focuses on fictional stories with a spiritual twist. Mr. Hines definitely accomplishes this with Waking Lazarus. The reader is guided blindly through the minds of the characters, wondering which one is the Hunter. I found myself flipping back and forth, trying to match clues mentioned before with what I was reading at the time and attempt to nail the bad guy.

Although filled with suspense and some violence, this is not something that should cause nightmares for the faint at heart (like me!) In addition, while the story skirts the edge of believability, it doesn’t defy the theology of the mainstream believer. All in all, a thoroughly enjoyable read from a new author. I will be impatiently awaiting the third story from Mr. Hines. I do not think he will disappoint.

Thorn is a neomage, a non-human descended from the unfortunate infants conceived before the first plague of the End Times destroyed life on Earth as we know it. These infants developed abilities to manipulate energies left from creation. They are believed to be soulless beings, less than human Only able to reproduce when aroused to mage heat - and this only happens in the presence of angelic beings - the mages are scorned by humans and live isolated in enclaves.

In this third installment of the story, Thorn has found a home in a small mountain village and is accepted by the humans around her. Her semblance of balance is rudely cast aside, however, when a mage shows up in her village for no reason. Apparently, the demon dragon she assisted in locking in metaphoric chains has almost broken free. At this point the story rockets out of control, demons and angels popping in out of nowhere and Thorn doing her best to protect the humans in her care.

The book culminates in a mighty battle that exposes the strengths and weaknesses of all involved. Because it is written in first-person, the reader sees inside the head of the main character. Her fears, motivations, all laid out for us as readers to judge. Faith Hunter does something with her characters I always appreciate - they are fallible and scarred by their experiences.

I found this book intriguing, a completely different blending of post-apocalypse and fantasy. While a little dark, I loved the juxtaposition of mage magic and angelic magic with a little human conspiracy theory thrown in (some humans believe the angels are really aliens bent on total domination of Earth). This may sound complicated, but at its heart Host is all about the battle between good and evil fought by the ones caught in the middle. Even though I know how this story ends, I will look up Seraphs and Bloodring (the first two books) to know more about Thorn and her angelic and human friends.

The Butcher Bird was dropped impaled on the never to read pile its first time around, not for future consumption - just out of spite - and forgotten rather quickly and not unthankfully so. Even while sporting some blurbage from Cyberpunk don William Gibson and capo Pat Cadigan, my worst fears seemed to becoming reality in the first few chapters, namely, another fringe ultra hip wanabee, smart ass protagonist - complete with the job as a tattoo artist and oh yeah…his sidekick is of course a quip-ready, lesbian version of himself - who together find out reality isn’t what it seems. Couple that with the first sip into the quantum-chaos looking-glass mug really reminded me of a favorite comic of mine from the early 90’s, Dark Dominion, published by DEFIANT comics created by Jim Shooter and the legendary Steve Ditko (indeed the subtitle of Butcher Bird is A Novel of the Dominion) and you just had a product that completely was pressing the wrongs buttons with me from the beginning. One also has to have to understand, I had recently read the likes of Alex Bledsoe’s debut The Sword Edged Blonde, ran through the entire overrated Butcher series, read Morgan’s Black Man, Huston’s Already Dead among some others and while they all represent different levels of quality I just had an overload on the too-cool, snarky, potential goth-idols running around telling me how smooth they are.

What I just described could still have been viewed as a recipe for success if attached to a writer I was familiar with - an Aylett, a Moorcock, a Tarantino, but anytime I’m experiencing a writer for the first time - and I understand Kadrey has previous well thought of credits - and am not familiar with any previous work such an introduction usually makes me think I’m in for another work wading in the shallow end that’s more preoccupied with being trendy and a cultural dumpster-diving noir (because isn’t everything noir these days?) that read like rejected Sin City pitch than actually offering a worthwhile story. That this was a superficial, preliminary, and ultimately baseless assumption makes it more necessary to mention because I think there are some that have this hipster filter. We like cool, and even more than we despise posers, we hate too cool even more.

The second time around - I rather enjoyed it. The story revolves around a man, Spyder Lee, who after a night at the bar with his best friend Lulu get accosted by what seems to be a demon and is saved by a passing blind woman. After recovering he finds that not only does he wake up to his world, but he finds it inhabited by more than what he used to know.

He learns more from Lulu who he see’s now is without eyes, who has lived in this world since bargaining with the Black Clerks, sphere-crossing tithe collectors, a supernatural mob crew that watched was a bit too enthusiastic about Saw and is like the Twilight Zone’s Twilight Zone inhabitants. Spyder gets some answers but decides to hunt down his savior of the night before for more information and along the way he gets cursed by the demon who tried to bite his head off before. Yes, a rather extreme case of the Mondays but during this portion of the novel I started really settling in; enjoying Kadrey’s chaos that viewed our own reality - even if amiably - as the exceptional, little brother who has to wear a helmet around solid objects. The charm of the books is that when ugly calls us ugly our regularly repartee ready protagonist seems to role with it and in a few chapters Spyder went from cheap, stereotypical fringe of society outsider to becoming something more recognizable without changing a beat. Then you realize, It’s not anti-culture, it’s culture, and this the recognizable draw we see in books by the likes of Morgan, Grimwood, or even China - it is PKD’s future that we see our path is going to intersect with, not that of Clarke, Asimov, or Heinlein, and it is the Spyders and Lulus who will inherit it.. He (Spyder) is not abnormal, he is the reality, a blue collar guy who gets by on his trade, and afterwards throw down drinks with his friends in what is a daily celebration and a simple meeting of shared misery, as that can be seen by the game we see he and Lulu partake in at the bar challenging each other to describe the worst ways to die. Indeed he is not cool at all - he’s a guy who spits off one liners from the mind of a guy who is a lifelong film buff. We know this guy, some of you are this guy, and you aren’t special at all, indeed your chosen identity is to not be exceptional at all. This is exactly the person you want to watch your back if you have business in hell - the guy and gal that cross the border between our world and Hell and don’t even notice, the kind of people who adjust to madness and are not consumed by it, the daily grind favors no reality. Spyder finds himself accompanying the blind assassin who aided him on a job turned personal quest rationalizing that he wants to become blind to the reality, to forget, like he does at times waking up and thinking his former girlfriend is still with him. The assassin, Shrike, takes on a job to retrieve a book of power for one Madame Cinders - a book that lies in Lucifer’s palace, in the middle of a civil war in Hell.

I can see this book being accompanied with descriptors like ‘grit’ and ‘edge’ and an examination of the gutter and alleys, and the underbelly of society, and other comparable senseless book-jacket jargon mentioned with the best intentions, and no doubt if this were the 1980’s and I were ten I might even agree the content is consistent with those supposed accolades; however, my read was that of what is essentially a dungeon crawl from my block to hell with today’s average Joe.

And in this it succeeds.

I like Lulu because I know Lulu. She’s your kid sister who is not blood or someone you share a last name with , she’s chosen family, she’s the girl you would really go to hell for, and while we probably run into a few (too many) of those, she’s the one who would actually come with you. What I’m perhaps most thankful for is the keeping of the harping over the lost love interest element to a minimum. Many writers would have made the presence much heavier and frequent (aka Lana-syndrome) than necessary. Anyone that’s a teen or above understand the feelings Spyder carries with him and that it’s a constant presence without it needing to be mentioned on ever other page. One of the best parts of the books is delivered by Primo, a servant of Cinders, and another member of this quest who tells a story of the Raven King and jubilation and the joy in eating one’s family. All that said, ultimately what probably makes the novel is the Prince of Darkness himself. You won’t be floored as the Devil is possibly one of the few characters who has been utilized in all possible incarnations from Woland, to Twain, every Faust book from Mann to Swanwick and literally hundreds more, but Kadrey’s devil is that friend you have that commits some atrocious crimes but he’s still your boy - the guy you judge by how he does you, not by what he does - and in this novel, it’s not that you just find him amusing, you like this guy. As mentioned before Butcher Bird’s subtitle is that of "A Novel of the Dominion", the implication being there may be more stories to be told and while the book itself isn’t striking me as a book that demands to be read, the further adventures of Spyder is not a notion that I find entirely distasteful.

*passes a smoke to Lulu*

A Noh mask wearing bookseller named Bulgarkov, a condo building Lucifer, Orson Welles’s lost film, Lou Ford references, in a fast talking, brisk, fun read - a novelization of a Cage and Derm go to Hell and yes in the end, it's even not too cool.

Jay Tomio
The Bodhisattva

This is a delightful and gripping tale for young readers, following the trend of bringing the magical into the modern world but with a Native American twist. Sixteen year old Lily is faced with the usual adolescent issues; soccer, boys, hanging with her friends, and not getting along with her mom’s boyfriend. But when a new blondie moves into town, she realizes her life may not be so typical. Suddenly she is faced with the age-old battle of good vs. evil, and she is playing a starring role for the good side. Through her father, Lily discovers she has a spirit protector - a weregirl. This is a young wolf female that is a part of her, lending her strength and magic when called upon.

I love the clear strong voice of Lily and laughed out loud at her quick wit. She is a great example of how formidable females can be, especially when they trust themselves. The author also touches on big teen issues. Lily has friends, but having friends she can trust is crucial. I like how the author blends the frustration and anger Lily feels towards her mom with their love for each other. Lily is very clear about disagreeing or even hating her mom sometimes, but she is also quite honest about her love for her mom. Life isn’t perfect, but you work with what you have.

My favorite idea in the book is the concept that the Barbie-type girls are the bad ones. The protagonist in the story is a pretty little rich chick with long blonde hair and name brand clothes. I must admit, being none of those things probably greatly affected my complete enjoyment in watching Barbie squirm a bit!

The weregirls were a brand new concept for me and I found them adorable, although I have difficulty seeing them as the aggressive types they are portrayed at the end. Both the weregirls and the humans girls are on the edge of adulthood, pushing for more power of a kind that can change their very essence. Lily and her friends experiment with this power, testing the freedom of power and then coming face-to-face with it’s responsibilities. The role of the weregirls themselves is rather fuzzy. They seem to support the human girls when called upon, but how active they will be in the girls’ lives remains to be seen in further novels.

I think the story was well put together, with enough suspense and action to capture the attention of young readers. I also felt the author had a great fix on what adolescents think and feel at that age. The things I didn’t like about the story can really be summed up in noting that it is a book for young readers. Therefore the dialogue is a bit light and the plot is thin in places. Changing this, however, would deepen the book so much that it might put off those young readers it is appealing to in the first place. Honestly, this would be an excellent addition to any library and I will probably donate my copy to our local high school.

Denyse Bridger debuts her first fantasy novel in As Fate Decrees, a story featuring the gods of ancient Greece in all their capricious splendor. Amarantha, a young human woman, is purchased by Ares at a slave auction. He then trains her to be the quintessential warrior and Champion of the gods while also tempting her woman’s heart. When she is sent forth in the human world, she meets with an old flame who just happens to be the King of Corinth and all Hades breaks loose.

As a concept for a story, I found the novel completely different from anything I’ve read in a long time. The character of Ares was complex and intriguing, containing not only the bloodthirsty warrior but also the thoughtful gentleman and the compassionate lover. The romance of Amarantha was a key element of the story but I was not overwhelmed by gratuitous love scenes. In fact, as much passion was displayed for the battle techniques as for the methods of romance. Unfortunately, the story that promised so much interest actually delivered much less.

I was unfamiliar with the specifics of the Greek myths featured here and so found myself struggling to keep the characters straight in my head. The story line would travel well for awhile, but then fall apart completely with ineffective transitions and confusing emotions. I felt lost much of the time and when the second aspect of the story came into play, that of the Champion of the gods being called to save the gods themselves, I felt everything went flat. In fact, this book seemed like two separate stories to me - one in ancient Greece and one in modern times. The one in ancient Greece had potential that was thoroughly depleted when it moved into the future.

Overall, I found this book to be a disappointing read. I think if the author had focused more on the first part of the book, the development of Amarantha as the Champion of the gods, that the story would have been better. In my opinion, the author simply attempted to squeeze too much story into one book. I found myself thinking “wait a minute. . . Hold on!” when the story would bound forward, glossing over weeks or even months in the lives of the characters. There is a good story in here, but it is lost in the confusing transitions and lightening quick passing of time. Because of this, the book receives a disillusioned 6 out of 10 from me.

This book is put out by one of my favorite publishing houses, Bethany House. T.L. Hines offers us stories set in the real world twisted with a bit of the supernatural. The beginning of this particular story was a little creepy in a “Friday Fright Nite” sort of way (the kind that gives you shivers but not nightmares). As I delved into the story, I couldn’t put it down. From the introduction of a very unlikely heroine, a past-her-prime demolitions expert turned garbage collector, to the explosive culmination at the end readers will be hooked.

Candace “Canada” MacHugh lives in Butte, Montana, a place that has some very weird stuff going down. Not only is Canada talking with her dad, who died eleven years ago, but people are burning to ash without warning. Add to the mix one scary non-dying being that is trying to kill her and you have an in-your-face story just made for a rainy day.

There were several things I liked about this book. I wasn’t able to figure out where he was going with the plot. I love stories that are unpredictable. I also enjoy figuring out who’s the good guy and who’s the bad guy, and there were plenty of questions raised in the story on that front. I also like the concept of the supernatural existing side-by-side with the everyday existence.

However, I missed a crucial turning point in the story as thirty pages were left out during the physical construction of the book. This was a major drawback and I spent several pages trying to catch up. (Anyone buying off the shelf needs to check after page 96.) I know I wasn’t able to make some connections until later on in the story because of this.

I didn’t let this stop me though and still feel I enjoyed the book. It delivered a delightful type of creepy, not a lot of gore or grabbing of the ankles from beneath the bed. However, there were certainly some breathless scenes. (Let’s just say, for arachnophobes like me - oooooo yucky!) If this book hadn’t been missing the pages, I would have given it a 9.0. As it was, I felt like I needed to mark it down. I still liked the book enough that I shall look up T.L. Hines’ previous book Waking Lazarus.

To be fair and honest right from the outset I was pre-disposed to like this collection for at least two reasons.

1) I have been a fan of The Library of America for a number of years now. The books that they put out are of the highest quality and are a great value for the content. Also in recent years they have been a good friend to genre fiction. That may seem like a small thing but I assure you it's not.

2) For years now I have, unabashedly, been a Dick-Head. Can't help it. I have been for years and probably always will be.

This brings me around to another Dick-Head, Jonathan Lethem. Lethem’s task was a difficult one because of Dick’s productivity. He published 19 novels in the 1960's. In terms of selection only one of those books was a gimmie. You could also knock some of the more hastily written books out of contention but that still leaves one with some hard choices to make. There could easily be a second collection of novels from the 1960's. All in all though Lethem made some good and interesting choices.

Philip Dick's novels have become increasingly popular and influential since his death in 1982. Periodically discussions start up on the predictive power of science fiction. One such discussion even popped up recently. To be truthful, yes it is easy to look at something like the communicators from Star Trek and easily see that they resemble the cell phones that we use today but more often then not science fiction fails in its predictive power on a specific level. But one of Dick’s greatest attributes is that he was really able to nail a certain atmosphere, one that seems increasingly to hew closer to reality.

One of the great services that this collection provides is that it offers not only a great primer of Dicks work but also provides a great introduction to those readers looking to try some of his work.

The four novels included in this collection are:

The Man in the High Castle published in 1962 - An early Hugo award winner that describes an alternate history in which Japan and Germany won World War II and America is an occupied country.

The Three Stigmata of Palmer Eldritch published in 1965 - Competing hallucinogens proffer different brands of virtual reality

Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? Published in 1968 - A bounty hunter in search of escaped androids in a post apocalyptic future, was the basis for the movie Blade Runner.

Ubik published in 1969 - Illustrates a future world of psychic espionage agents and cryogenically frozen patients inhabiting an illusory "half-life,"

I find the subtitle of this collection to be open to speculation. It immediately makes one wonder, if not down right hope, that there will be a future collection of Dick's late period masterpieces from the 70's. I for one hope that there will be one. Based on the quality of the selections here it would be a great companion volume.

On a side note the Philip K Dick android is still missing.

--Brian Lindenmuth