Scott Graham

This fever dream of a grimmer tale than the fairytales of the Brothers Grimm was a delight from start to finish. I took my time(?) in the reading because there was a plethora to glean from the Middle English used throughout much of the story (see meanie, lief, pizzle, sieur, etc). Luckily I had undertaken the reading as an ebook; I had lookup capabilities at hand rather than having to constantly swivel-chair between book and dictionary. As for the story itself, this sword-and-sorcery-lite novel of a revenant boy vs evil sorceror and the battle for the future of a small village is filled with the threats that are born from the worst desires of people with power, desirous of more power at any cost, with a dark magic twist. It’s either a fast read if you glide over the Latin and French phrases, and Middle English words, or a slower one if, like me, you take interest in new words and ancient etymology. The author threw a lot into the narrative, from theology to mythology, damsals in distress, hapless villagers, a plucky protagonist and darkly evil villains, and sundry monsters in a medieval setting. I was reminded of The Legendary Black Beast of Arrrrgh in a few spots (IYKYK), but that did not detract from the pleasure in the reading. Highly recommended.

Book 2 of TJ Klune’s Green Creek Series (beginning with the fantastic Wolfsong), follows and furthers the magical fantasy romance of werewolves and witches in Green Creek OR, a town and surrounds that may have some magic of its own. Ravensong contains the complete tale of a threat to the Bennett family/pack, but it also unveils more of the antagonists and their motivations without bringing them to a conclusion (there ARE 2 more volumes in the series as of the time of this opinion). Extremely likeable and sympathetic protagonists and formidable villains drive the action to a satisfying minor conclusion, but threats still exist and the clouds are gathering in the distance. Again, like Wolfsong, this novel is not for those of a closed minded sensibility; gay love is represented both emotionally and physically in a tasteful and descriptive manner.

A spicy gay romance with werewolves, but it is beautifully written, compelling reading. The characters are extremely well developed and the reader immediately becomes invested in them, their stories, and their well-being. The romantic couple are a bit unorthodox, werewolf status aside, but give the author a chance to let things unfurl before you start clutching pearls. At turns happy, ecstatic, sad, and devastating, Mr. Klune will wring a few tears from all but the most stoic of souls (and if you are one of those people, all I can say is, “who hurt you?”). Very recommended for an open minded reader.

Heartsong, volume 3 of the Green Creek Novels tells the story of a prominently featured character and fleshes him out for the reader and gets them more invested in him. It's a good story though not as emotional as the first two volumes. It mainly introduces the main villain, their odd motivation (very derivative of Stephen King's Storm of the Century, "Give me what I want and I'll go away."), and sets up the story for volume 4.

The action doesn’t kick in until you’re two-thirds through the novel; until that point it reads like the longest college class in slasher film mythology. The main character is a troubled single-track minded idiot who it turns out just happens to be right, kinda? It’s a mish-mash of a story, with multiple villains and motives and a contrived ending. It might make a decent horror film though. Defintely better suited for the visual arts where the deus ex machina can get a better treatment.

An occasional tear evoking tale of a connection between teenaged romantic partners is told with a great ear for the thoughts of and dialogue between maturing young adults in the often messy senior year of high school as they look forward to transitioning to college and a putative adulthood. If you could still speak with a loved one after they’ve died, what would you say? Author Dustin Thao provides an answer to that question with a believable suggestion that for the living, even a actual death would be treated as a nebulous thing. The conversations would be often mundane and taken for granted, not fraught with deep meaning. Mr. Thao nimbly sidesteps afterlife concepts and questions. For him, and the reader, the conversations and their effects are the thing. Would the ability to speak with your lost loved one soothe or prolong your grief? How would it affect the dearly departed? Those questions are answered in You Have Reached Sam.

Cozy fantasy about coming to terms with grief in your own way, in your own time, with the help of a fertile imagination and a real world that doesn't impinge too harshly on the delusions and hallucinations. The soft reveal at the end is heartbreaking, so expect some tears to be shed. Immerse yourself in the story and world Dustin Thao has conjured to allow the story to unfold as gently as it does and you will be rewarded all along and especially at the end.

A good premise that leads up to a nothing burger.

What To Expect When You're Dead reads like a laundry list of the death practices and beliefs in the afterlife activities of the dearly or not so dearly departed. The author chose to examine concepts of the funerary practices of several civilizations and the beliefs of the afterlife and organize the book in that manner. It resulted in a disjointed book, jumping across a half dozen or so civilizations, topic by topic. It was as dry as dust.

It resulted in death knowledge overload. It's meticulously documented, so one gets the idea that it was at least partially intended as a reference; I think it would have been better presented civilization by civilization, complete in all the beliefs and practices of the civilzation before moving on to the next civilization.

Vague spoilers included: Stephen Graham Jones creates an absorbing new vampire mythology but in the last play misses the basket/TD/goal/run. The final scene was "meh" with vague motivation and reasoning, and includes a discrepancy with something established earlier in the book. Would the ultimate act accomplish the intended result? Prior incidents in the book suggest perhaps not. The author's afterward suggests 'why' this happened, but the rewritten frame story feels like a rush to publication. 95% great and 5% flat. Unfortunately, the 5% was the ending.

An excellent account of two men who loved each other like the closest of brothers, but earlier emotional damage made them too quick to take offense, and who can hurt you worse than the one you love the most? Told through the process of the writing and the recording of their songs, the author uses the music and lyrics to make observations about their lives, loves, and animosities.

Not to suggest I didn’t enjoy the story and writing, buuuuuut…. between the first career setback for Darrow and the climactic celebration, I kept screaming at the characters, “Are you all idiots? Do you learn nothing?”. Especially during the denouement. A distrustful father and untrusting partner allow the deceitful and dangerous villain to prepare a large gathering unfettered. The bad guys at the end commit the classic error even a middle school student would advise them against: don’t leave the hero alive. Kill him when you have the opportunity. I’m still going to read book three of the trilogy. I do care about four remaining characters and I would like to see some hot vengeance served up. Going to retire now to an unrelated novel, where the author doesn’t take their characters for idiots.

Lincoln in the Bardo was an interesting exploration of Lincoln’s evolution to an abolitionist during the eatly days of his presidency through his interaction with the residents of the bardo or purgatory or whatever you might want to call it, during one very eventful night for the residents of that portion of the afterlife. The narrative contains mostly short snippets from the three main characters, with some color added in by the other denizens of the afterlife waystation. The tale is a bit scatalogical (in the general sense, not in the excretory sense) and may offend readers with a delicate sensibilty. It was a quick, fun read, very good, but didn’t live up to all the hype for this reader. Still, I am happy that I read it and portions of its theology will remain with me for some time.

A lovely confection with likeable characters that will leave you feeling good. Recommended for that space between two books of heavier subjects as a palate cleanser. Definitely worth reading. I look forward to seeing Sally Field as Tova and Lewis Pullman as Cameron.

A contemplative novel of the futility of living a life waiting for something to happen to you rather than taking agency in your own life and trying to make something happen for yourself. The Italian Waiting for Godot, except you know what Godot is, and "he" appears, but too late for the feckless main character.

A sad book, not in a tragic way, but wistful.

Beautiful in the way that life often is, wonderful moments surrounded by longing and living what Henry David Thoreau called a life of quiet desperation. It is short in length, but I'm sure I'll remember it for a long time. Poor Kathy Ellerbeck, Lucy Sykes, Alice Keach and Moon. As I read the book, most notably in the final act, I kept hearing the song "This Nearly Was Mine" play in the idle part of my mind.

An engaging account of the history, epidemiology, and difficulties around the fight to cure TB patients and eradicate the disease. John Green introduces us to a young TB patient in a woefully underfunded West African hospital with the local reputation of being where people go to die. This patient serves as a touchstone that the author repeatedly returns to, to put a name and a “face” to the fight to cure TB patients in poor countries, while educating us on the history, biology, and treatment (or non-treatment) of the disease. Mr. Green leaves the reader with hope in the fight, and with a cautionary warning about what the pursuit of ungodly profit over making eradication a goal may mean to the world as a whole. Mr. Green makes this account personal, but whether it resolves in a happy or sad way is up to you to discover by reading the book; there will be no spoilers here.

Battle Royale on Mars, but better conceived with a cynical eye toward a rules driven caste society. The charsmatic central character is flawed but likeable, and that is key in this novel. The friends he makes he thinks are for life, but are more likely for a reason or for a season. The other two volumes in the trilogy will probably bear this out. I liked the book very much and wouldn’t hesitate to recommend it to lovers of sci-fi dystopian stories.

Like a first nations’ legend meets H.P. Lovecraft. The peril is never defined beyond the malignant influence exerted on the people trying to live in late 19th century wilderness Canada. It was an interesting ride, but the destination was a bit of an enigma - weird solely for the sake of being weird. Sometimes that’s good, but this book didn’t pull it off.

Vol 2 brings Wei Wuxian and Lan Wanjii further on their quest to quiet the dismembered arm from vol 1, with the introduction of additional villains along the way. With a universe of undefined magic with rules made up as the author goes, the outcomes are not entirely satisfying, but our protagonists are likeable and get out of scrapes using the same non-rules based preternatural abilities. With an answer close at hand, the quest continues and an escape ushers in Vol 3.

Imminent is a glimpse into the government's investigations into UAPs (UFOs once upon a time), authored and narrated by a purported key player, Luis Elizondo. Facts become muddied in the telling in the closing chapters when the expected discrediting occurs, but we recently had disclosures of sorts that support the thesis of this exposè. A tad dry in the telling and some governmental alphabet soup thrown in does not detract from the point, much, but it does require the reader to at least follow the acronyms enough to know when a group/ organization mentioned earlier is the same one being discussed in a later passage. Recommended to enthusiasts, but aside from an assertion that those in the government in the form of a retired department head are lending some bona fides to things the open-minded already suspected, there isn't much new here. It reads like the exploits of an operative left out in the cold capitalizing on disclosing what they can for a needed payday. But hey, we've all got to eat, and the PTBs left the author little choice.

1. The author, Annie Jacobsen, takes a worst case scenario of insane actors, lack of communication, slow-to-be-made decisions and weaves them together in a nuclear war that escalates from limited to full out superpower involvement. Told in a minute by minute fashion, she ratchets up the tension as people and systems fail mankind until the inevitable ending. Informative, depressing, but compelling in the telling.

At times difficult to follow because every character has two or three names used interchangeably. The rules of the world are extremely mutable so when in a jam, the characters simly have to play a tune, whip out a heretofore unknown doo-dad to save the day, or call on another cultivation clan head to assist. The dangers are ever present but never really threatening. I’m engaged enough to continue to see where this quest is going though, so hopes are present but not high.

Told in two parts essentially, part one is a thought provoking exploration of author Sebastian Junger's close call with death, and either a unique glimpse into the afterlife, or the imaginings of his dying brain.

The second part describes Mr Junger's pursuit to understand what happened, what it might mean for each of us to be alive and then to not be alive, and how the universe accounts for it all. Spoiler: nothing is decided, but many interesting facts are explained that may impact that meaning. Food for thought.

I assume this novel was a roman à clef, written in prose, hitting you like poetry and fine art. Lyrical and visual, it's difficult to navigate because your eyes and your mind often fail to work in concert.

Your eyes, familiar with the mechanics of reading keep moving forward in the text while your mind wanders through the painting that Ocean Vuong has created with his words, so I found myself rereading passages quite often; my comprehension was still back at buffaloes careening off a cliff while my eyes had just finished a passage about monarch butterflies. The fault is mine and not the author's. I enjoyed it immensely, found the characters of Little Dog, Rose, Lan, and Trevor compelling, each in their own way, sometimes comical, occasionally infuriating, and in a few cases sadly tragic. I will reread it again, and be better prepared to go at the lazy, indulgent pace that the novel cries out for and deserves.