Books

I had heard the name Elizabeth Moon in author recommendations, so when I saw one of her novels available for free at BAEN, I gave it a shot. It's the first volume in a fantasy series.

The prologue tells us of a written account of Paksenarrion's (here not specified) deeds being delivered to her humble family. It amazes them. Since chapter one jumps back to when she ran away from home, that prologue smells to me like a cheap ploy to build interest.

In the following, we get rather a lot of detail about basic training in a mercenary army. While we hear how to handle a spear, what the food's like, and what the unit marches past on the way to their first campaign, we don't see much character interaction beyond orders and some bullying from a fellow recruit. Paks making friends is covered with "Despite having little time to talk, she knew that Saben, Arñe, Vik, Jorti, and Coben were going to be her friends". The occasional conversation seems to be designed primarily to lay out worldbuilding details (gods, elves and dwarves, geography).

The only point which is not that boring is a sort of investigation after an offstage fight involving Paks and two fellow mercenaries, in which she is initially accused. The thing is, this has her locked up, and the interesting part is someone else showing initiative.

About a quarter of the way into the book, Paks is still a cipher to me, rather than someone I care about, and she's supposed to be the protagonist. I read too character-centered to be interested in this, and couldn't be bothered to finish.

Might might be interesting for military aficionados (Elizabeth Moon was in the US Marine Corps, so presumably it's not too far-fetched), but the more military-centered stories I read, the more I think I just should stay away from the topic/genre.

The Sharing Knife is a series of four books by Lois McMaster Bujold, which from what I've seen is more "love it or hate it" than the rest of her work, so, just some info to help people decide if it sounds interesting.

Let's look at the blurb of the first volume, for an impression:

Troubled young Fawn Bluefield seeks a life beyond her family's farm. But en route to the city she encounters a patrol of Lakewalkers nomadic soldier-sorcerers from the northern woodlands. Feared necromancers armed with mysterious knives made of human bone they wage a secret ongoing war against the scourge of the "malices", immortal entities that draw the life out of their victims, enslaving human and animal alike. It is Dag—a Lakewalker patroller weighed down by past sorrows and onerous present responsibilities—who must come to Fawn's aid when she is taken captive by a malice. They prevail at a devastating cost—unexpectedly binding their fates as they embark upon a remarkable journey into danger and delight, prejudice and partnership . . . and perhaps even love.

This gives a decent impression of Lakewalkers seen from Farmer eyes. I don't think the "feared" and "mysterious" bits hold hold up from reader side, since Dag is also a viewpoint character.

This is not a story about monster-hunting. It's a romance that starts with Dag saving Fawn from a monster, but that's over in the first quarter or so of the book. The rest is them falling for each other Dag introducing Fawn to the joys of sex, and cultures clashing, a lot of the latter as Dag tries to win his future in-laws over. Good if you like romance, not good if you don't, and start the book expecting mostly adventure with a little romance added.

There is also some potential squick involved... Dag and Fawn fall hard for each other, but, well, Dag... we're talking about a man falling for a girl who's a third his age, and the first appreciative mental comment on the shape of her breasts from him comes when he interrupts some bandit attempting to rape her. In addition, as a Lakewalker he has "groundsense" that Fawn as a Farmer doesn't, which includes that he always has a pretty good idea what she feels, leaving her with rather less mental privacy than he has.

All things considered, Dag comes out this side of decent, and he cares deeply about Fawn, and she falls hard for him, too, but some things I try not to dwell on too much.

The focus of the series shifts in later volumes, particularly in the third and fourth books, which include Dag and Fawn dealing with a life neither of them was prepared for, and trying to tackle the big problem of that world by talking to people.

It's slow-paced and focuses on people and their interactions, with a big side of culture clash. Violent threats are usually a surprise rather than long prepared for; there is no "big bad" that our protagonists overcome with epic heroics. I love that. I've seen reviews complain that the "the world would be better if people just talked to each other more"-approach was naive, but I loved it. Changing the world one opinion at a time, by talking, is a nice change from hack and slash.

I got the first book of this series "warned" by negative reviews and halfway expecting to hate it. It involved more sex than I'm used to, but I enjoyed the humour and other parts of the book so much I was very glad I couldd get the ebook version of the rest of the series (particularly since it really is the first half of a story that got too long for one book), without having to wait for shipping. For me, definitely something for the list of things to re-read.

Ebook at Smashwords
also at Kobo
amazon.com
amazon.co.uk

The Emperor's Edge is a fantasy novel self-published by Lindsay Buroker. I had a lot of fun reading it thanks to witty dialogue, interesting worldbuilding, and, oh, the plot...

What happens, in one sentence? A former police officer and a hyper-competent assassin (and a few other misfits) try to stop a plot against the young Emperor by counterfeiting money.

It makes more sense in context, and there are more complications. I love stuff like that. I'll mentally shelve it along with "military-school dropout becomes admiral of a space mercenary fleet by accident" (The Warrior's Apprentice by Lois McMaster Bujold).

On Basilisk Station is the first book in the Honor Harrington series by David Weber. It's available for free at the Baen webshop.

There is a plot in there somewhere... something about a young captain being screwed over by a military lousy with aristocratic nepotism, being sent to a neglected station, actually doing the navy's job, and uncovering some kind of plot... but I found it hard to follow.

The two main problems I had were the infodumps and the viewpoint changes.

The long and sometimes awkwardly placed infodumps about technology and history seemed to go into way, way more detail than was required for the story, leaving me with the impression that David Weber rather wanted to write something like an RPG sourcebook. (For example during a spaceship "chase" not only explaining the neccessary information about their FTL travel, but the complete history of its development.)

I did not keep count of viewpoint characters, but wouldn't be surprised if it had been over a dozen. The really confusing part was that often a change of viewpoint and location would not be signalled in any way; one paragraph from the viewpoint of Our Hero on her ship might be followed by one from the viewpoint of an antagonist on a different ship, which would only become clear a line or two after it happened, things like that. (I can't tell if that's just a problem with the ebook edition, or if it was really written that way.)

I appreciate that there is a female protagonist, and that she isn't the only one in the military (competent women being treated as miraculous because women aren't expected to be competent is really tiresome), but had trouble connecting with her.

I guess to enjoy this you need a higher interest in weapons and spaceship specs, military hierarchy, and worldbuilding details even when they interrupt scenes than I have.

I bought Soulless after coming across recommendations on a comment thread on Ursula Vernon's Livejournal. Probably I should have paid more attention, but, oh, well. Let's look at the blurb:

Alexia Tarabotti is labouring under a great many social tribulations.
First, she has no soul. Second, she's a spinster whose father is both Italian and dead. Third, she was rudely attacked by a vampire, breaking all standards of social etiquette.
Where to go from there? From bad to worse, apparently, for Alexia accidentally kills the vampire - and then the appalling Lord Maccon (loud, messy, gorgeous, and werewolf) is sent by Queen Victoria to investigate.
With unexpected vampires appearing and expected vampires disappearing, everyone seems to believe Alexia is responsible. Can she figure out what is actually happening to London's High Society? Will her soulless ability to negate supernatural powers prove useful or just plain embarrassing? Finally, who is the real enemy, and do they have treacle tart?

That blurb made me expect a mystery with a bit of romance thrown in. However, it's at least half romance, including sex, and the mystery bits didn't seem handled very well.

I get the kind of mystery where the reader is supposed to know more than the protagonists trying to figure things out, because some scenes are not from the protagonists' perspective, and I get the kind of mystery where vague hints are dropped that the reader might figure out things faster than the protagonists.
In this book, there was a hint early on not only dropped, but highlighted with red flashing lights and a klaxon, so I was left with the impression that the supposed investigators were remarkably dense never considering something in that direction.

That leads to my main beef with the book: The plot is utterly predictable. The only suprises are of the kind "man with a gun enters the room", metaphorically speaking; nobody turns out to be anything other than they seem.

What I like best about this book is the worldbuilding. It's an alternative history in which the Renaissance was triggered by immortals (vampires, werewolves and ghosts) giving up their "masquerade", and by the time of the book they are accepted sub-societies that people who survive the initiating bite get congratulated on joining, at least in Britain.

Another interesting bit were the mindgames Alexia was playing with herself at some point regarding her relationship (or not) with Lord Maccon.

As to the writing style, I think the author was mostly going for an amusing tone. There were a handful of places where the words themselves threw me right out of the story (most bizarre example: referring to penis-in-vagina intercourse as "he impaled himself").

There were at least that many lines that struck me as particularly funny and/or clever, though, so over all not too bad.

For me it was OK to read fluff, but nothing that makes me want to buy following books. I suspect someone who has more interest in romance and sex might get more out of it than I did.

So, recently I finished re-reading Making Money, the 36th Discworld novel, by Terry Pratchett. I have read all of them, some of them more often than I can remember.

I'm a bit sad that in my mind the best part of Making Money is that the list of Discworld books on the first pages includes those for younger readers as part of the main series, rather than on a separate list. People going "they are children's books, so they're not Discworld book" were a kind of pet peeve of mine, while this novel just fell flat, to the point that I took a break to re-read a 50 volume manga series between chapters.

There were a few bits of impressive or funny descriptions, sure, and I did finish it, and maybe it'll grow on me if I re-read it more often. For now at least, it just doesn't click.

Mr Bent's sermon-rants about gold at the start put me off, and the idea (suggested on the backcover an by Moist von Lipwig in the text) that he might be a vampire does not gel from the start, considering that that would be the first vampire not admitting to being one in how long? The entire series?
Gladys, the golem with a crush on her boss, the abrasive Adora Belle Dearhart, Moist's old associate with the denture troubles, the Leonardo-with-a-narrower-specialisation, the generic slightly mad scientist and interchangable Igor, the utterly pathetic bad guy Cosmo... No-one in this book caught my sympathy or interest, which is sad.

As to Moist, in Going Postal his crazy stunts to revolutionise the mail system were fun to read. In Making Money, the things like breaking into his own office at the start make sense as something to show he doesn't deal well with routine, but, well, compared to his last book, his later actions seem rather boring, at least if you already have a basic idea of how money works despite not being backed by gold.

What comes to my mind when comparing those two books is how mundane Making Money is. Paper money is something we all are used to. There were some bits of description that tried to create a sense of wonder about how a penny would "turn into different things" depending on what it was exchanged for, but for me it just didn't work. Money is something practical and lacks the "magic" and personal touch of the written word that, in form of letters, drove Going Postal.
Superficially, the cabinet and the golems added some magic to Making Money, but it seemed rather tacked on rather than integrated into the story.

In summary, Making Money seemed to me mostly like a mix of "let's write about how money works" and "let's modernise Ankh-Morpork" with story sprinkled on top, rather than the (admittedly very high) quality of storytelling that I love so about other books in the series.

The Stepsister Scheme is a novel based on fairy tales.

Shortly after her honeymoon, Danielle - also known as Cinderella - is attacked by one of her stepsisters, who tells her that her Prince Charming is gone. She insist on accompanying Talia (Sleeping Beauty) and Snow (White) to find and rescue him from his kidnappers.

Jim Hines draws on not-Disneyfied versions of the tales, adding his own ideas on top of it. Talia received among other things the fairy gift of grace and dance - and considers fighting a dance. She also is well-informed about goings on in the kingdom, and has more than a bit of criminal energy. Snow is a sorceress adept in mirror magic. Danielle's main contribution to the team seems to be a certain knack for finding ways to twist fairy "contracts", though the whole talking-to-animals bit doesn't hurt, either.

There are only three things that bothered me a bit, but they were rather minor. First, a trend of repeating some words too often in short intervals. Second, the "we don't care about you, we just want the child you're pregnant with" stuff - but then, Danielle didn't exactly play the part of incubator on legs, when she could help it. Third, the strong plot hook left for the sequel - not a real cliffhanger (though I guess it could be if you care more about children than I do), but it's a practise I dislike.

On the plus side we have a nice adventure plot with mystery elements, friendship in a group of women (rather than the usual "dudes plus one token female/love interest"). I particularly likes easygoing, enthusiastic Snow.
The world as such also feels alive, with Snow and Talia's background from different countries, and the politics between the (human) kingdom of Lorindar and the fairies.

It's fun to read and will end up on my bookshelf, and I will probably get the sequel eventually.

Judging by a recent post in Jim Hines' Livejournal, the announced trilogy (second part to be published this year) has already grown to a tetralogy.

I can't think of many other fantasy/adventure books focusing on a group of women, in fact, only the Discworld book featuring the Witches. Anyone got any recommendations?

*points at title* That's a children's book (9+) by Derek Landy, a sequel of one I liked a lot, so I picked it up when I spotted it on the shelf in a local bookshop.

The backcover blurb reads, "You know how it is - you think you've saved the world, and then ANOTHER evil villain turns up with an unbeatable monster and starts breaking things. Oh, yes, and you've got a skull for a head. A thirteen-year-old girl for a sidekick. And no clue what to do..."

Now, while the weird prevalence of very nearly every damn book dealing with saving the world is getting on my nerves a bit, the first book's writing style made up for that. That blurb also suggests that Skulduggery Pleasant is the protagonist, which would have been nice. Unfortunately, he wasn't.

Playing with Fire takes place about one year after its prequel, and Stephanie is a mage in training and the skeleton detective's junior partner. She is the protagonist, and the title character of the series is a supporting character only.

As to the plot, some evil mage was sprung from prison and now tries to revive some kind of Frankenstein Monster which in turn will call Lovecraft-style elder gods back to our world.

In short, this book lacks everything that made the first one interesting.

The great dialogue that was the reason why I liked the prequel was nearly entirely absent, being genuinely funny in maybe two or three places, and otherwise coming across like annoying bickering rather than amusing banter. Unless dialogue was outright dropped and replaced by action scenes with far, far too many "and"s in them. Top it off with over-the-top gore I thought I didn't have to endure in children's books.

Neither was there a mystery, or any surprising plot twists. It was pretty clear what was going on from the start, and when information was needed, it was only a question of going to a particular person who had it, all very linear.

On top of that the more interesting plot threads (I'm thinking particularly of Stephanie's reflection, a double summoned out of a mirror to take her place at home and school while she's off adventuring, possibly growing into more than a mere reflection) are left dangling for the sequel(s?). I do not like books that cannot stand on their own, and I really dislike obviously deliberate sequel hooks.

Well, that was money wasted, and I definitely won't buy the next part.

Skulduggery Pleasant is a fantasy/horror/adventure children's book.

The setting is modern day, with sorcerers and at least some magic creatures hidden in the corners, and the main characters are Stephanie and Skulduggery Pleasant. She is a twelve year old girl who inherits a house and strange business. He is a skeletal-undead, sixgun-toting sorcerer detective. They fight crime. More precisely, they try to find out who murdered Stephanie's uncle. Occasionally they commit crime, too, but who cares?

The real action starts when Stephanie is almost killed by someone breaking into her late uncle's house in search for something. Mr Pleasant saves her, and what with him having blown the door off the hinges, she attaches herself to him for protection and curiosity. The case develops from "let's try to solve a murder" to "we gotta save the world!", including super-powerful magic items, ancient evil cultists and whatnot.

It takes some suspension of disbelief, particularly when it comes to "wait, who in their right mind would drag a 12 year old girl into a break-in when the guards are vampires who definitely are NOT pacifist and sparkly?!", or that one big point in favour of paper-golems may be that they are easily destroyed. On the plus side, at least the book addresses the question of what the parents think of their daughter going off adventuring, by providing a double.

The plot has some nice twists and there are interesting characters to be met - and some of them besides Stephanie are female, too.

What really makes the book enjoyable for me is the dialogue - quite a bit of banter. I forgive a lot of shortcomings, including the few tropes this one employs, if a book is fun to read.

Well, I posted my favourite bit, with the missing front door, already, so have another little sample.

"They're vampires," Skulduggery said. "The Vault has vampire security guards."
Stephanie made a show of poking her head out of the window and looking up at the sky. "The sun's still out, Skulduggery. It's still bright."
"Doesn't matter to them."
She frowned. "Doesn't sunlight kill them? Doesn't it turn them to dust, or make them burst into flames or something?"
"Nope. Vampires tan, just like you and me. Well, just like you. I tend to bleach."

Maybe not the best, but pretty short.

All in all, enjoyable entertainment I've re-read already.

Dover Publications, ISBN 0-486-27426-8

As the title suggests, a book on drawing animals. Ken Hultgren was an animator for Disney, the former showing in poses and walk cycles, the latter in some of the "carricature" examples.

Ignoring the preface, here we have 134 pages full of black and white illustrations, with a few explanations thrown in. Quite many of the example drawings are shown as one roughed in and one finished version.

After 18 pages of general notes (the division of the body in three parts, rule of the thumb for placement of eyes and ears, boxing in forms, examples for simplified skeleton and mannikin frames, "mood and feeling", "use of line", and some examples of textures you can achieve with a brush) the book is divided into "chapters" of very varying length devoted to one animal or group of animals each. Nearly all of those have action poses like leaping, and a page or two on carricaturing the animal(s) in question.

The first one, "The Horse Family", goes over 29 pages into most detail, starting with how the different parts of the skeleton are made up and fit together, the assumption being that the reader will be able to apply the same methods to other animals without being walked through all of the steps again. In addition to random action poses throughout the chapter there are sequences on leaping, kicking out, trot and canter. For a bit variety from the "generic horse" there's a page on draft horses and zebras each, as well as a double page on colts.

The 20 pages of "The Cat Family" is mainly devoted to lions, with a page each on Tigers and Domestic Cats.

"The Deer Family" (including stags and fawns) is covered on 9 pages including sequences of walk and jump. It only shows a "generic deer", no note on different species. By contrast, the later chapter "Dogs" of the same length has only a page of random sketches for general information, followed by one or two pages each with sketches of a particular breed. "The Bear Family" and "Elephants"  are similar in page count, with the elephant chapter being noteworthy for a for the species unexpected variation of poses (albeit none "leaping").

Five pages spared for "Cows and Bulls", four for "Kangaroos" (including a jump cycle), three each for rabbits (and a hare which wasn't labelled as such), foxes, pigs and warthogs, and gorillas, two for giraffes, and camels (both, like the elephant, sadly lacking any information about pace, their main or only gait), and a single page on squirrels.

The book is capped by a 7-pages chapter on "Composition and Animal Grouping".

I was slightly disappointed because the title implies more variety than is actually shown; "The Art of Mammal Drawing" would have been more accurate. The "The X Family" chapters are more concerned about showing (presumably) commonalities, rather than going into details of differences between species.

There is nothing like the staple of how to draw humans books, the figure divided into head-heights, so you need to be able to see or measure the proportions from the examples, or photos or models.
On the other hand, I think the many examples of "roughed in" mannikin - simplified skeleton and/or basic shapes - next to a finished image can be very helpful.

In my eyes the greatest strength of the book are the dynamic poses, and particularly the running and jumping sequences.

Considering the low price, this for me was worth it.