(Source: helsinki-syndrome, via bookshelves)

The internet is a lovely place.  It’s opened doors for amazing changes in the literary world, such as the current rise of digital self publishing. With a quick search I can find used copies of out of print books that I would never have been able to find otherwise.  Social networking has given us access to authors in a way we didn’t have before.  On any given day I can have a chat on twitter with some of my favorites, and it blows my mind.  Because of this access to authors there is a running trend of ownership of stories and even authors themselves.

There is nothing better than being effected by someone’s work and identifying with it, but I refuse to believe that those worlds are anything but on loan to me.  I am a visitor in someone else’s home as it were.  No matter how much any of us may like a book we do not own the idea, and the author’s really don’t owe us a thing.  A good example of this is the Anita Blake series.  I loved the first six, but stopped truly enjoying them after that.  My recourse is to stop buying her books and maybe writing a bad review.  That’s it.  I don’t get to lambast Laurell K. Hamilton for what she’s done.  I certainly don’t get to bring her personal life into my review by any means.  

It was incredibly shocking for me to reading a one star review on Amazon and find attacks on the author as a person, not the work as a whole.  That is NOT okay, people.  No matter how much you may have disliked something you don’t get to attack what an author believes, how they live their life, or threaten them bodily harm.  The line you should have stopped at was several paces back. 

This is not to say that you shouldn’t make a negative opinion known.  As long as what you are writing is polite and constructive (I will even say that snark is okay, up to a point) than feel free.  If you feel so upset that you’re foaming at the mouth log off and write your own story.  

In the immortal words of Sir Wil Wheaton: “Don’t be a dick.”

The Boy Who Lived….With His Gran. 

me:  http://www.tor.com/blogs/2011/06/the-boy-who-lived-with-his-gran

that’s how I always felt about Neville Miranda:   that is also how I feel about Neville

I’ve always thought he was the best out of all of thembecause he had nothing but his heart

 me:  and he doesn’t go all emo, like Harry

(not that I blame him for the emo, perfectly valid reaction)

and he doesn’t get angryhe just…does the right thing

quietly and without fanfare 

Miranda:  yup 

me:  that moment the article mentions 

Miranda:  and his tale is certainly as tragic as Harry’s 

me:  when he keeps the gum wrapper

it made me cry

and yes, the last movie had best show his bad assery

because he’s as openly bad ass as anyone else by the end

he and Snape are the real heroes 

Miranda:  I agree 

me:  and actually, what I like at the end

is how aware Harry is of it

he’s spent most of the series trying to go it alone

and there at the end he realizes the awesomeness of everyone around him

and it’s lovely 

Miranda:  yup

Neville always made me cry

always

and I agree with the article writerthey’d better do Neville right

I think they will 

me:  you can’t hardly screw him up in the final battle

“oh hey, I organized all this shit, I have the room working, and I’m about to kill a giant snake”

“also I am the one supposed to use the sword, revealing my rad courageousness”

and honestly they did a decent job in order of the phoenix 

Miranda:  they did 

me:  because up until that battle

would anyone have pegged Neville to go with them and kick a little bit of butt?

and there he is

doing it for mom and dad 

Miranda:  and because it’s the right thing to do

I’ve always loved his quiet courage

because it was there every dayevery day he took potions with Snape

every day people made fun of him 

me:  yup

and you can tell Rowling planned it all

from the moment she made Neville stand up to Harry, et al
 

Miranda:  Because she’s a genius 

me:  and then save their butts

you know, she is

those books were meticulously planned out

and I love that 

Miranda:  yup

because they appear effortless

which means they aren’t 

me:  yes 

Miranda:  I do like how we can have a conversation just on Neville Longbottom for 15 minutes

I’m glad we’re friends

(Source: )

Tap tap tap.

Is this thing on?

Hello everyone out there!

We kind of disappeared from blog land, didn’t we?  As I’m not one for excuses I’m merely going to apologize and promise to try and be better at this.

So what have we been doing lately (as we obviously haven’t been blogging)?

Reading, of course!

I owe all of you a TON of book reviews and discussions so please keep your eyes on the blog.  I should have something up for you soon.

I seriously can’t believe it’s March already.  2011 is going by so fast and I’m woefully behind on my reading.  The last couple of weeks I’ve been thinking about amazing authors I have been reccommended to me a hundred times but I’ve never gotten around to reading.  I’m going to really try to pick one of these up this month. Upon reflection it is also Sci-Fi and Dystopia books month.

Crystal Singer by Anne McCaffrey

Her name was Killashandra Ree. And after ten grueling years of musical training, she was still without prospects. Until she heard of the mysterious Heptite Guild who could provide careers, security, and wealth beyond imagining. The problem was, few people who landed on Ballybran ever left. But to Killashandra the risks were acceptable…. (From the backcover)

Ender’s Game by Orson Scott Card

In order to develop a secure defense against a hostile alien race’s next attack, government agencies breed child geniuses and train them as soldiers. A brilliant young boy, Andrew “Ender” Wiggin lives with his kind but distant parents, his sadistic brother Peter, and the person he loves more than anyone else, his sister Valentine. Peter and Valentine were candidates for the soldier-training program but didn’t make the cut—young Ender is the Wiggin drafted to the orbiting Battle School for rigorous military training.

Ender’s skills make him a leader in school and respected in the Battle Room, where children play at mock battles in zero gravity. Yet growing up in an artificial community of young soldiers Ender suffers greatly from isolation, rivalry from his peers, pressure from the adult teachers, and an unsettling fear of the alien invaders. His psychological battles include loneliness, fear that he is becoming like the cruel brother he remembers, and fanning the flames of devotion to his beloved sister.

Is Ender the general Earth needs? But Ender is not the only result of the genetic experiments. The war with the Buggers has been raging for a hundred years, and the quest for the perfect general has been underway for almost as long. Ender’s two older siblings are every bit as unusual as he is, but in very different ways. Between the three of them lie the abilities to remake a world. If, that is, the world survives. (Amazon Product Description)

The Hunger Games  by Suzanne Collins

In a not-too-distant future, the United States of America has collapsed, weakened by drought, fire, famine, and war, to be replaced by Panem, a country divided into the Capitol and 12 districts. Each year, two young representatives from each district are selected by lottery to participate in The Hunger Games. Part entertainment, part brutal intimidation of the subjugated districts, the televised games are broadcasted throughout Panem as the 24 participants are forced to eliminate their competitors, literally, with all citizens required to watch. When 16-year-old Katniss’s young sister, Prim, is selected as the mining district’s female representative, Katniss volunteers to take her place. She and her male counterpart, Peeta, the son of the town baker who seems to have all the fighting skills of a lump of bread dough, will be pitted against bigger, stronger representatives who have trained for this their whole lives. Collins’s characters are completely realistic and sympathetic as they form alliances and friendships in the face of overwhelming odds; the plot is tense, dramatic, and engrossing.  (School Library Journal)

Stranger in a Strange Land by Robert Heinlein

Stranger in a Strange Land, winner of the 1962 Hugo Award, is the story of Valentine Michael Smith, born during, and the only survivor of, the first manned mission to Mars. Michael is raised by Martians, and he arrives on Earth as a true innocent: he has never seen a woman and has no knowledge of Earth’s cultures or religions. But he brings turmoil with him, as he is the legal heir to an enormous financial empire, not to mention de facto owner of the planet Mars. With the irascible popular author Jubal Harshaw to protect him, Michael explores human morality and the meanings of love. He founds his own church, preaching free love and disseminating the psychic talents taught him by the Martians. Ultimately, he confronts the fate reserved for all messiahs. (Amazon product review)

Brave New World by Aldous Huxley

“Community, Identity, Stability” is the motto of Aldous Huxley’s utopian World State. Here everyone consumes daily grams of soma, to fight depression, babies are born in laboratories, and the most popular form of entertainment is a “Feelie,” a movie that stimulates the senses of sight, hearing, and touch. Though there is no violence and everyone is provided for, Bernard Marx feels something is missing and senses his relationship with a young women has the potential to be much more than the confines of their existence allow. Huxley foreshadowed many of the practices and gadgets we take for granted today—let’s hope the sterility and absence of individuality he predicted aren’t yet to come.  (Amazon Review)

Elfland by Freda Warrington examines the lives of Aetherials (that would be fairies to us humans) living on Earth.  As keeper of the gates, Lawrence Wilder is responsible for opening them up every seven years so that the earthly faeries can return home.  Instead, he has closed them off due to a great and terrible threat from within.  Cut off from the magic of their home the Aetherials begin to slowly go mad while Auberon Fox tries to keep the piece. and his family together.  Tensions build among the Aetherial community over the gates and eventually everything must come to a head regardless of the outcome.

It’s taken me a while to actually write this blog post even though I finished the book some time ago because I really wasn’t sure how I felt about the book.  And frankly, I’m still not sure whether or not I liked it or if I would recommend it to others.

First we’ll look at the positives.  Freda Warrington has an amazing talent for imagery.  From the first page I was in her world and could see it clearly.  You don’t have to wonder how things look or how the characters are feeling because you’re right there along with them.  There aren’t any passages that are so beautiful they stopped my breath, but the scenes are vivid and rich.  Her characters are also distinct and real.  If you’ve been reading this blog for any length of time you know I love great characterization, and this book is full of it.  There are no issues of characters blending together, or being archetypes for any one ideal.  It’s lovely seeing them interact together.

Now the negatives.  Everything drags on for far too long.  The plot, at its heart, is an interesting one, but it gets mired down in the soap opera that is the lives of the Wilder and Fox clans.  Some of this was instrumental in developing the world for what would ultimately happen.  I get that.  But it just drug on and on.  Instead of making me love the main character, Rosie, it made me want to smack her.  Once the plot actually started rolling I couldn’t put the book down, but for the first two thirds of the book I kept wondering when things would start to happen rather than tuning into the next episode of “As the Fairies Fight”.  This may be a little too critical.  It wasn’t a waste of time exactly; I just wish it would have moved faster.

I won’t be rereading Elfland again, and I’m still not sure if I would recommend it.  If a supernatural melodrama is up your alley than by all means, but if not you might want to pass.  Creativity: 4 out of 5, readability 3 out of 5, originality 2 out of 5 for a total score of 9 out of 15.

I was always someone who hated to start something and not finish it.  Even if I hated it I’d rather plow through it than quit.  As I’ve gotten older this has changed.  Hate a certain food?  I’m an adult.  I can throw it out and have ice cream for dinner instead.  Don’t like a movie?  There’s no reason I can’t turn it off and watch something else.  It seems that the only place I’m incapable of quitting these days is with books.  For some strange reason I’ve always held out hope that eventually the book will become enjoyable.  “Perhaps I’ll identify with the protagonist later, after she/he has spent some time growing.”  or “Yeah, it’s a slow beginning, but it’s supposed to be an amazing book.  Just look at all the stars on GoodReads!”  Once I’m halfway, even if I hate something, I’ll push through the next half just to finish it.  I’m beginning to realize this is a pretty dumb strategy.

Reading takes up a lot more time than watching a movie.  (Unless you’re Katie.  Feel free to hate her a little bit for this.  It’s all right.  You won’t be the first.)  Most of the things I read are well over the 400 page mark.  That’s some serious hours spent in someone’s world, and if it’s not grabbing me and pulling me in then what is the point?  I think I’ve been more inclined to do this because as a writer I would want someone to give my work a benefit of the doubt.  That’s a very silly way to read. My time is valuable.  If I do absolutely nothing else I can get through a book in about six to eight hours, give or take.  That’s about a full day’s work.  If I really like a book that’s average, but if not it can take weeks for me to push myself through it like it’s some sort of strange obligation. 

The thing is, I’m no longer in school.  No one is making me read Pamela anymore.  (Although no one ever really made me read that one; I chose to.  That’s another post for another time.)  I am reading for pleasure these days.  Alas, no one is paying me to read currently so why am I making myself read through books just because I started them?  The only time this strategy has ever worked out was with Ian McEwan’s Atonement and even then I’m still not sure if that book was worth my time. 

This has been on my mind because the February choice for Dreams and Speculation’s book club was Ursula LeGuin’s The Dispossessed.  Part of me just wants to take the book out for coffee and gently tell it that I’m just not that into it.  It’s not me; it’s them.  Maybe in another time or place things could work out, but we should probably cut our losses and see other people.  If I had the time to read like I did last year I’d probably push myself to plow through it, but I don’t.  I’d rather spend this time reading things that grab me from the get go, so I’m putting The Dispossessed on hold.  I love LeGuin’s fantasy works, but I’m going to have to pass on this one for now.

I immediately hooked up with Grant’s Pass, a post-apocalyptic anthology and we’re in love.  Maybe The Dispossessed and I will meet up again one day and the time will be right for us.  If not, I refuse to feel guilty.  Life is too short and there are too many books on the shelves for me to force myself to read something I’m not enjoying.

So what about all of you?  Do you push yourselves to finish books even if you aren’t enjoying them or do you close a book and move on without another thought?

Luka and the Fire of Life was written by Salman Rushdie for his youngest son and is a companion book (note, that this is not a sequel) to Haroun and the Sea of Stories.  Given to me by one of my bosses for Christmas, I’m really glad I didn’t just stick this on a shelf with some of the other gift books I’ve received over the years.  While not the best novel I’ve ever read it was lovely and amusing.

As a surprise miracle child to two aging, doting parents, Luka’s life is idyllic until his father falls asleep and cannot be awakened.  It is then up to Luka to go through the realm of magic, a land that is set up just like a video game, and steal the Fire of Life in order to keep Nobodaddy, his father’s a ghostly replica, from drawing all of the life out of him.  Along the way he makes new friends and figures out puzzles, but he is constantly working against time. The fire is well guarded and Luka has to rely on the stories of his father as well as his friendships and cunning to not only acquire the fire but get it back before his father dies.

The best word to describe Luka and the Fire of Life is “charming.”  I couldn’t help but smile most of the time I was reading it.  I loved the fairy tale structure and the bits of modern life woven through it.  The way Rushdie explains the world of magic through Luka’s eyes came off just the way a six year old would see things, and that’s what you need to make a fantasy or children’s book believable.  There is enough in the plot and world building to keep an adult entertained while reading to a child, as there are several parallels made between the current American political climate and the different groups of people Luka encounters in the magical realm.  It’s not hard to see where Rushdie drew his inspiration from, and I think that gives it something extra. My favorite part was how Rushdie handled the ancient pantheons.  Without giving too much of the plot away, I found what they had become believable.  In a modern world it almost seemed like the only alternative after being worshipped so long ago.

The characters were terrific as well.  I’m not anywhere close to Luka’s age, but I remember what it was like to view the world in such black and white terms.  Luka is written just right for his age.  Rushdie also does an excellent job of transforming the major players in Luka’s life into magical equivalents.  For example, the bully he longs to trump is the king of the Rats and the most beautiful girl he has ever seen is named for his mother.  These details lend to the believability of the story and held my attention much better than the actual narrative.

I must admit that it took me far too long to finish something that should have only taken me a day.  This could be due to the book’s dreamy quality, so it was easy for me to slide in and out.  I didn’t feel that rush to finish finish finish like I get with a truly terrific book. This is also not something you should pick up if you’re looking for something similar to Rushdie’s adult novels. It is written with a child in mind, so if books for younger readers aren’t your cup of tea I recommend you pass.

Creativity: 4 out of 5, readability 5 out of 5, originality 2 out of 5 for a total score of 11 out of 15.  Will I read this again?  This isn’t the kind of book I will intentionally reread again and again, but I won’t rule it out either.  I can see picking it up if I’m not feeling well and want something light and fun.  I also plan on getting my niece a copy when she is old enough to enjoy having it read to her. 

I can’t believe it’s February already!  We rearranged our living room just after Christmas, which has put my desk right next to our bookshelves. While I’m working (or playing games more likely) I am constantly glancing at the myriad books that I haven’t read yet. To be honest, I haven’t read many physical books since I got my kindle. It’s been too easy to download whatever I wanted whenever the fancy took me. In fact, I don’t think I’ve set foot into a Half Price Books in over a year. This month I’d love to find the time to read the following books if I can as they are the ones that I keep going back to looking at, time and time again. As a reminder, none of the descriptions are my own.

Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel Garcia Marquez
While delivering a message to her father, Florentino Ariza spots the barely pubescent Fermina Daza and immediately falls in love. What follows is the story of a passion that extends over 50 years, as Fermina is courted solely by letter, decisively rejects her suitor when he first speaks, and then joins the urbane Dr. Juvenal Urbino, much above her station, in a marriage initially loveless but ultimately remarkable in its strength. Florentino remains faithful in his fashion; paralleling the tale of the marriage is that of his numerous liaisons, all ultimately without the depth of love he again declares at Urbino’s death. In substance and style not as fantastical, as mythologizing, as the previous works, this is a compelling exploration of the myths we make of love. Highly recommended. (Barbara Hoffert, “Library Journal”)

Paint it Black by Janet Fitch
Fitch follows her bestselling debut, White Oleander, by revisiting the insidious effects of a powerful, narcissistic mother on an only child. Michael Faraday is a Harvard dropout who paints in the L.A. art world of 1981; his suicide happens a few pages in, and sets the stage for a Fitch’s masterful shifts in time and perspective. Josie Tyrell, an artist’s model and denizen of the punk rock, had an intense relationship with Michael, but never managed to free him from his mother, renowned concert pianist Meredith Loewy, who moves in a bleak, loveless world of wealth and privilege. Yet their very different loves for Michael bring about a surprising alliance between the imperious Meredith and Josie, a white trash escapee whose inborn grace, style and sense of self sustain her—along with art, music and alcohol. The two find unexpected comfort in each other’s shared loss, allowing Fitch to contrast the inner and outer resources of women whose lives couldn’t be more different, and to flash back deeply into their histories. Fitch excels at painting a negative personality with sure-handed depth and fairness, and her prose penetrates the inner lives of the two with immediacy and bite. In Josie, she has created an indomitable young woman whose pluck and growing self-awareness beautifully offset Meredith’s emptiness. Their relationship transforms a big cliché—the artist’s suicide—into a page-turning psychodrama. (From Publisher’s Weekly)

The Innkeeper’s Song by Peter S. Beagle
Three powerful women (each with her own secret past), a stable boy, a weaver’s son, and an innkeeper set in motion a series of events that brings each of them face to face with the forces of magic and the workings of fate. Beagle ( The Last Unicorn , LJ 5/15/68; The Folk of the Air , Ballantine, 1987) uses many voices to tell this tale of love and death and what lies beyond both. A finely crafted piece as well as a rich, evocative fantasy, this novel should have broad appeal. (Library Journal)

In The Woods by Tana French

We Were the Mulvaneys by Joyce Carol Oates
Elegiac and urgent in tone, Oates’s wrenching 26th novel (after Zombie) is a profound and darkly realistic chronicle of one family’s hubristic heyday and its fall from grace. The wealthy, socially elite Mulvaneys live on historic High Point Farm, near the small upstate town of Mt. Ephraim, N.Y. Before the act of violence that forever destroys it, an idyllic incandescence bathes life on the farm. Hard-working and proud, Michael Mulvaney owns a successful roofing company. His wife, Corinne, who makes a halfhearted attempt at running an antique business, adores her husband and four children, feeling “privileged by God.” Narrator Judd looks up to his older brothers, athletic Mike Jr. (“Mule”) and intellectual Patrick (“Pinch”), and his sister, radiant Marianne, a popular cheerleader who is 17 in 1976 when she is raped by a classmate after a prom. Though the incident is hushed up, everyone in the family becomes a casualty. Guilty and shamed by his reaction to his daughter’s defilement, Mike Sr. can’t bear to look at Marianne, and she is banished from her home, sent to live with a distant relative. The family begins to disintegrate. Mike loses his business and, later, the homestead. The boys and Corinne register their frustration and sadness in different, destructive ways. Valiant, tainted Marianne runs from love and commitment. More than a decade later, there is a surprising denouement, in which Oates accommodates a guardedly optimistic vision of the future. Each family member is complexly rendered and seen against the background of social and cultural conditioning. As with much of Oates’s work, the prose is sometimes prolix, but the very rush of narrative, in which flashbacks capture the same urgency of tone as the present, gives this moving tale its emotional power.  (Publisher’s Weekly)