Jacob Tender
A slight improvement on the previous adventure. Simultaneously a return to form for Brown and a too-familiar pace of plot. Many familiar turns and character archetypes that, this time, made their presence too known.
Still, it’s a Langdon novel which I very much enjoy. Brown is great at introducing areas of academia that I inevitably spend weeks reading about in the non-fiction sections of the world.
If I were to select one passage I liked most in this book, it was near the end with two female characters discussing the idea that the most common response to a fear is not fight or flight, but selfishness. I’m glad he got that part in.
I was attracted to Wild Dark Shore by its hardback cover, which is stunning—drawn in by the dark, mysterious waves depicted therein. Of course, it was the audiobook I ended up consuming. This was narrated by an unbelievably gruff, monotonous man and a woman who carried our main character with a complete range of emotions. (and a lovable voice for the youngest child to boot)
I’m not a big fan of romance. Wild Dark Shore earns it in the end, but for most of its length it gives character background as a justification for a forbidden romance the author has already established. When the focus is put on sex and desire when there are more interesting themes at play, it cheapens the plot.
This novel reads like it was written with a television series in mind. It was a pretty good book, written quite well, but it would be a great ITV miniseries.
This is the second story with a hydrophone I’ve read this year.
A former executive economist is hit by the effects of an unstablized economy and takes up work as a letter carrier for a government agency that’s served as the bedrock of the United States since the days before its inception.
I’ve always carried a profound respect and curiosity for the USPS and this insider account has only deepened it. I loved this memoir of Grant’s year as a mailman and will by buying some physical copies to give as gifts to some folks I think could use a reminder of what being an American is really all about—service.
When I was in elementary school, our student library’s available material was very dated. During my first and second grade years, I exhausted the westerns section on Native American stories several times over.
I don’t remember the names of any of those tattered library-bound books today, but I remember the feeling. I was totally drawn into the mysticism and cultural traditions described on the page, mostly by white men in the 40s and 50s.
The Buffalo Hunter Hunter attracted me from shelves in bookstores around the Midwest this year. My assumptions kept me from the plot summaries on its dust jacket, making my jump into its text completely cold. The experience is better for it, I think.
With the exception of the story wrapping the story which wraps the story, I loved this. It shines during Cold Stab’s telling of events—particularly with Shane Ghostkeeper’s narration in the audiobook. But its themes and roots in genuine history make it great.
The mirrored inner conflict between a Lutheran Pastor and a cursed Blackfoot was threaded expertly through the tale. It’s not dictated to the reader, but my observation of Takes No Scalps’ hypocrisy made his actions that much more horrific. There are no heroes in this tale, only victims.
Excellent book. I’ll be seeking out more from Jones as well as Fools Crow, a reference for the historical events mentioned in this tale.
A very slow start. For me, it took a couple of attempts to get the audiobook going with any velocity. I’m not very fond of the cadence used by the narrator, but the writing is very good. This is a contemplative book. Told, mostly, through the inner monologue of Leigh, a scientist embroiled in various breakthroughs of discovery and personal conflict of her own.
Attacks the same ideas from the viewpoint of several characters: what happens when you buck societal expectations?
A little rigid in places, very tender in others. I had a difficult time keeping track of points of view from time to time. The one thought experiment I’m taking away is this: do you prefer fun or satisfaction?
With the first book, I read it in Bob’s voice and that elevated the experience. For the second, I listened to it in his voice. At first I preferred my imagination, but I came around to enjoying Bob and Sally’s vocal contributions to this fairly straightforward sequel. Paul Whitehouse didn’t quite hit the mark in his delivery. Not by my estimation, at least.
I don’t know that more of Gary Thorn is necessary. His character progression was wanting. Looking forward to Bob’s next story all the same.
The first third of this book feels like classic King. While conventional, it remains strong. I wish that held through the turn. Fairy Tale is full of reassurances that the author is aware of the similarities to stories you've read before. This comes across as a bizarre lack of confidence for King.
There are other faults—namely the repetitive allusions and references to the untold insecurities of our main character. These put the book's length on display. As we neared the end, fatigue from cringeworthy fantasy and romantic speech peaked. Otherwise, I found this an immersive and enjoyable story from the master.
I read a lot of Mark Twain as a kid. I loved his adventure stories and also that weird Tom & Huck adaptation my parents bought us on VHS.
Not weird was this book, which I tore through in two vacation days. Every bit as good as the source material with such an interesting expansion of character. I loved it.
The only thing that would have improved it is a map of James’ many ups and downs on the Mississippi.
I recently visited an exhibit on Kafka at the Morgan library in NYC. It was there I determined that I didn’t really care much for his work or most of its derivatives.
The hole falls in line with this tradition, finding absurdity in the mundane and leading the reader to question occurrences that have no answer. There are interesting themes involving losing one’s self to changing circumstances—hinted at frequently by the oft-referenced cicadas and extreme deviations to weather patterns.
The titular hole that drew me in, its unnamed inhabitant, and the mysteries of those living in our narrator’s rural neighborhood had no explanation. That left me wanting.
It seems to me that the trick to a successful novella is making up for time with personality. Murderbot’s quirks align closely enough to my own neurodivergences that I can look past this book’s shortcomings.
In many ways the first half of All Systems Red feels like a paraphrasing of a book. So much is glossed over or taken as read. Things start to click after everyone involved is on the same page. Even with just a few dozen pages left to go, I found myself tripping on awkward sentences that would have benefited from more words and different punctuation.
This was a funny read in such close proximity to Becky Chambers’ Monk + Robot duology. Brief reads about quirky robots trying to find ways to help humans while also prioritizing their own interests.
I think I can visualize how this show would play out enough that I’m not convinced I’ll watch it. At least not until I finish the next installment.
Wonderfully attractive character design led the purchase of a signed copy. A quick 15-minute read later and I'd completed the story, which left me wanting.
The art is lovely. Penciled, not inked, with lush and desaturated color tones. Again, character design comes out on top while the story lacks any real substance. The same (and only) turn happens exactly twice. All-in-all, The Council of Frogs feels like a fleshed out proof of concept. There’s room there for more!
I found some of this written with a heavy-hand. Particularly Vin’s insecurities, some of the romantic intrigue, and everything said by Zane. I also started picking up on some of Sanderson’s writing crutches—most notably during long stretches of political discussion and strategy.
The word “frowned” is used 147 times in this book.
Otherwise, another great read. I ripped through this one so fast! Storytelling from the point of view of more characters was a good choice. I felt closer to some of Kelsier’s crew as a result, allowing certain actions to hit harder than they would have otherwise
The final act felt too short for the journey leading up to it, but even in its brevity… *mwuah*. Stunning. What’s left beyond the epilogue is an air full of questions that has me anxious to continue.
A Prayer for the Crown-Shy takes everything that’s great about its predecessor and elevates it. Curiosity grows, relationships grow, and so does the world surrounding our monk and robot duo.
I was surprised to learn at the end that the first book was written pre-pandemic and that the second was written during its earliest stages. I would have sworn they were a reaction to it. Tonally it feels that way to me.
A superb duology. I’d recommend it to any open-minded someone looking for a quick, optimistic, and thought-provoking read.
Contains spoilers
I wasn’t immediately sold on Psalm for the Wild-Built but grew to really appreciate it for what it is—a thoughtful meditation on consciousness, purpose, and the meaning of things.
I can tell that Becky Chambers put a lot of thought into questioning the tropes that accompany most stories in settings like these. Resulting are scattered subversions of convention that give me pause to think deeper about the limitations science fiction applies to droids or how much reality we obscure in mundane things to make them more “welcoming” to a reader looking to escape.
And I suppose that’s what sets this book apart. As short as it is, it’s chock-full of reminders about life outside of it. It’s sweet, funny, and instructive. Moderately challenging to start but, once our protagonists meet, it’s a wildly engrossing read.
You know I love a good short story collection. Rarely do I find one as thought-provoking as this. So much to chew on in each of these thoroughly-considered pieces of speculative fiction.
Even the shortest stories prompted lengthy discussions at the table about predetermination. I’d recommend this to absolutely anyone.
