Cyn Newman
Gilman did a very good job with the teenager's voice. The idea of a magical school for teens is a little worn at the moment, of course, but the dream lesson variation has only been done by one other author that I can think of off the top of my head. I'm not entirely sure that I bought into the preparation of that particular teen, but the story was entertaining nonetheless.
Very short story that begins with an interesting concept, but doesn't really go very far with it. The events of the story weren't explained to my satisfaction, so the piece felt like a tiny teaser that should have introduced something much larger that would have filled in the missing blanks. It is inadequate as it stands.
Excellent story. Gilman doesn't tell us where it comes in the overall chronology, but I think it should be placed relatively early in the series. You certainly won't miss anything for not having read it, but it is a nice little piece. I intend to seek out the other two short stories mentioned on her site as being set in the Retrievers universe, “Palimpsest” and “Illumination.” (Or perhaps “Illumination” is the one I already read? I'll know soon enough.) I'm hoping that they'll help tide me over ‘til Hard Magic is released.
Not terrible, not great. The “what if” behind the plot is rather silly for anybody who knows anything about DNA or how long sperm is actually viable, but if you can suspend your disbelief (a lot!) I suppose it doesn't suck. I had to roll back the ages of the main characters by quite a bit to believe in most of what they were doing, though, because they just didn't act like any 30ish men I would want to know. Then again, they are four never-married 30ish men who have spent their entire lives in one small town, so maybe their boyishness will seem realistic to someone.
Many of the scenes would make for interesting visual effects if they were translated to the screen, and I'm not even a visual thinker.
Apparently the beginning of the Retrieval Artist series, which I've been meaning to check out for some time now. The premise on which the series is based - that humans are doing business with other races, some of which have business practices that can drive humans to need to disappear to an extent never known before - is, well, interesting. I'm not sure that any other race would be quite as cruel to humans as we are to each other, honestly, and I've seen humans give each other more than enough reason to disappear quite thoroughly. Still, the writing was good, and the characters and plot were enjoyable. I do plan to find the novels and try one or two of them.
I'm still trying to figure out why this story was even put out there. As a soapbox piece? It doesn't work as a revenge or power fantasy, really, and that may be part of what left me unhappy with it. Most of what I read from Gilman is fantasy, and this piece was set in the present day with absolutely no fantasy or science fiction bits at all (other than the idea that any law enforcement agency would permit volunteers to write tickets for parking violations, which I simply cannot imagine.)
The story isn't badly written at all, which is why I'm giving it two stars. It just wasn't satisfying to me.
Eh. I'm trying to be gentle, assuming that this must be a very early effort. The magic system simply didn't make sense to me. The entire society, in fact, seems nonsensical. A world in which magic reigns supreme, and the simplest devices (like wheels and levers) are regarded as diabolical? Nonsense. By the end, it felt like an intellectual exercise carried to an extreme. I can see using the conceit for a short story, but it just can't support a novel.
Fantasy in Death is an interesting take on the death-by-gaming plot that has previously been done by a couple of fantasy and science fiction authors, most notably in Niven and Barnes' Dream Park series. I doubt that most of Robb's readers will be familiar with the other books, as they're probably coming from the romance world (crossing over from her Nora Roberts titles) instead of the science fiction genre.
What hit me the most, though, was nostalgia for the dot com boom. The portrayal of the hot start-up company with its open, cheerful offices full of tech toys and energy, well-paid employees on fire with ideas and enthusiasm happily burning the midnight oil to work on exciting projects—I remember those days! Okay, the technology wasn't as advanced as the stuff in the book, but I can relate.
I always enjoy the portrayal of Dallas and Roarke's relationship as a mature partnership. It is a bit clich&ecuted at this point that every case has some aspect that justifies bringing in Roarke as a civilian consultant, but it's part of the formula. The sex is somewhat paint by numbers by now, too, but as prolific as Robb/Roberts is, I'm wondering if she has templates for different series and she has her own Stratemeyer Syndicate-type operation going on somewhere. (I've never read anything but the Eve Dallas books, so please take that as the joke it's meant to be!)
I was a little disappointed in the reveal, as I felt that the bad guy was too obvious. I won't say more, as I don't want to give anything away. I'll probably continue reading the series, but I'm past feeling an urgent need to grab them as soon as they come out, and this definitely isn't one of the few series that I could re-read and enjoy.
“Dancers in the Dark” by Charlaine Harris is set in the same universe as the Southern Vampire/Sookie Stackhouse stories, but with none of the incredibly annoying characters. How refreshing! It does go back to the same stuff Harris explored in her Shakespeare series and one of her standalone books (Sweet and Deadly? I can't remember if it was that one of the other, as they don't stand out in my memory too much anyway). The story wasn't terribly, though, and I was engaged. I kept thinking while reading, “Didn't I read another short story or novella in this universe about dancers?” Anybody else remember? I hate it when my memory goes wonky like that.
“Her Best Enemy” was too hackneyed, bringing in too many old standbyes. There's a tough girl reporter who is really a sweet woman who just needs a good man after a bad one took everything she had, a sexy man who is tougher than he looks and better able to protect her than even he knew, etc. I don't remember reading anything really strong by Maggie Shayne yet, but she's definitely on the romance side of the paranormal romance street, so that may explain my lack of enthusiasm.
Barbara Hambly's contribution, “Someone Else's Shadow,” has us back in the world of dance. I wouldn't be surprised to see this one and the first story in a dance-themed anthology (they probably are, already, and I just don't realize it yet). It was the strongest story of the three (with reason, as Hambly is certainly the most experienced and IMNSHO best writer of the three). Sound plotting, good reasoning, likable characters who are well-rounded and believable, neither perfect saints nor disgusting sinners.
I kept thinking of Hope while reading the last story because the main character dances and teaches belly dance, and there's a lovely quote from the first time she dances in front of her love interest, “It's all dancing. Skill infused with joy. Weaving jewelry out of dreams.”
I'm left with little to say that won't be a spoiler other than, “Dangit, why can't more authors work in some polyamory instead of using the same old jealousy-based plots?” Because I do NOT find that entertaining or interesting at ALL!
The Thunderbirds are very interesting, and I'd like to know a lot more about their culture than what we get here.
I'm having a lot of trouble believing some of the political machinations in the plot, but I suppose I'm extremely naive about what people will believe when they want to ignore the truth.
I'd say that wraps it up for this series. No, I won't tell you why I'm saying that, or it'll ruin the book for you.
The Harper Connelly series hasn't ever been as strong as the Southern Vampire series, in my opinion, but it wasn't too bad in comparison to some of her earlier work, like the Aurora Teagarden and Shakespeare mysteries. She seemed to be experimenting with something darker this time around. I haven't looked at the Amazon rank or any other figures for the series, but it's my gut feeling that they never took off in comparison to the Sookie Stackhouse series, especially since True Blood has gotten so much attention with the television series. I have to wonder what that feels like for Ms. Harris, as this really was a decent concept with some promise, and it doesn't seem to have been given that much of a chance to blossom.
In any case, Harper and her brother are prickly characters and not very easy to relate to, and they don't get any easier in this book. They are back in their home town, and we get to now a lot more about their origins this time around. We finally get the whole story about their missing sister, and we meet the two little sisters who live with an aunt and uncle.
The portrayal of the devout blue-collar people with their working-man's faith is absolutely smack on. I came from those people, and I could taste the sweet tea and see the linoleum and the absolutely clean Formica dinette, feel the cracked chairs the characters sat on and look around at the carefully kept house. Harris did a great job with that town and those people, so much so that I'm sure she either came from a similar place or has spent plenty of time in one.
There isn't as much new magic/plot stuff as there are answers this time. The sexy gypsy boy-almost-man is back, to my delight. Harper's love interest is still a bit of a squick, but I suppose it makes sense for the characters. I have to wonder how many authors would stick with that kind of decision, knowing the backlash they'd get from their readers?
If you've read the other Harper Connelly books, read this one for closure. If you haven't, this isn't the place to start!
I really need to remember that if I wouldn't want to hang around with the main character, I'm not going to enjoy the book. The girl is an idiot I would ditch in less time than it would take her to update her Facebook status. I'm assuming this thing was ghostwritten, as is normal for most books released by actors. I hate seeing an actor whose work I enjoy associated with something so puerile. I hope she gets some honest acting work again soon!
I've enjoyed the other Walker Papers novels, but Walking Dead definitely showed more depth and maturity than the earlier volumes. Both the author and her lead character have grown very nicely. It's refreshing to read a series that does not fall into the all-too-familiar paranormal romance formula!
Another thing I enjoy about this series is that heroine Joanne has a supporting ensemble of friends and coworkers who have their own talents and foibles, including a delightful married couple, a sexy father figure (who isn't related to anyone we've met so far), and an even sexier boss. This time around we were treated to the return of a character Joanne rescued in an earlier volume who has grown into some of her own ass-kicking abilities.
Joanne is far from perfect, but she doesn't make the same mistakes over and over again, which is a pet peeve of mine and occurs all too often in some other authors works. (There's consistency, and then there's refusing to learn from mistakes to the extent that I have to believe that a character is too stupid to live.)
There is a thread that ties all of the Walker Papers together, but C.E. Murphy is keeping things fresh enough that I, at least, am not getting bored. I would, however, caution that this is a series that is best read completely and in order. I began reading one of the novels without realizing that there had been a novella published between it and the previous one, and found myself well and truly confused. Walking Dead definitely is not a good starting point for the series! While a new reader wouldn't necessarily be completely lost, she would miss far too much of the magic.
Historical fiction isn't my favorite genre, but I'm much more willing to read it when it's mixed with mystery. I've read some of Hambly's work before and know her to be a fine writer, and I'd read good reviews of this series by people I respect, so I decided to give it a whirl.
I suppose all the descriptions of people's clothing would have mattered much more to someone who cared about such things, but I do realize that they were important in the context of the story. Personally, I was relieved when the main character went on a journey! I would have been happier had his medical skills been utilized more frequently than they were, but I suppose his experiences were fairly true to life for a “colored” man of his time.
I did learn quite a lot—things that I intend to verify in non-fiction sources shortly. The information about the black code, for instance, and the explanation of the distinction between “black” and “colored” people seemed too precise to be fabricated.
I knew, too, that Louisiana is the only U.S. state whose laws are based on French rather than English common law, which seemed silly to me. Why wouldn't they go with the standard everyone else used? After reading this novel, I'm starting to realize that there may have been rights given to citizens under French law that were lost under English law.
I'm not sure as to whether or not I'll go forward in the series, as I'm not sure that I can handle the unhappiness I can see foreshadowed even in some of the titles. However, I will say that this volume is well-written and well-plotted. I certainly didn't guess who the killer was or why the murder was committed before the big reveal, and that was a pleasant change!
This thing is an enormous tome! I don't know if it has been released in hardback or not, but if it has, that version has to be anchor-worthy. I requested it from the library because Elizabeth Bear and Sarah Monette had stories in it, and I'll read pretty much anything either of those worthies publish. I didn't expect to care for most of the rest, and didn't plan to do much more than flip through them.
As it happens, I read most of the other stories, and there were many surprises. I did skip some of the reprints, such as the Anne Rice story (I wouldn't have read it the first time it was published, and I wasn't about to read it simply because she was in good company now). I had read Carrie Vaughn's “Life Is the Teacher” before, but for some reason my eyes just fell into reading it again, and I felt well rewarded for doing so. On the other hand, while I had enjoyed “Twilight” by Kelley Armstrong the first time I read it a few years back, I wasn't moved to repeat the experience.
I believe my favorite story may have been “Finders, Keepers” by L.A. Banks, as I still remember it clearly and with pleasure. I've only read one of Banks' Vampire Huntress novels and didn't find it interesting at all, so I haven't read any more of her work, but I may seek out more of her short fiction in the future.
“Mama Gone” by Jane Yolen felt fresh, as Yolen's work so often does. Garth Nix's contribution, “Infestation,” was a little bit predictable, but that may be due to overexposure to the genre.
I found myself returning to the cover art by David Palumbo again and again, intrigued by the fascinating faces he gave the figures there. They aren't classically alluring, and most aren't hideous—most would look perfectly at home on any street. But they also have that, that something, an element you can't quite put your finger on, an element of the other. Take a look and I believe you'll see what I mean.
Have fun!
I was really disappointed when I realized where the plot was going - Christ's bones? Come on, Reichs. But she did a very good job with the plot, giving the reader plenty of intrigue without ever getting into any mystical nonsense. I found the references to The Da Vinci Code highly amusing (there may have been some that I missed, but I haven't read the book, and I was only half-way paying attention when I saw the movie).
What a tease! To come SO close to dealing with polyamory, then skip back!
I guess it's just been too long since I read Tinker, but I don't really remember any hints of polyamory there at all. In this book, though, it's made very clear that elven society has found monogamy to be an unreasonable model for people who normally live thousands of years. Anybody who hasn't read Tinker shouldn't read this review, because there are spoilers for that book - but hey, that's to be expected in the review for a sequel. Just knowing that certain characters live and marry is a spoiler!
Anyway, Tinker may be an elf now, but she was raised as a human, and apparently the half-elven quasi-nursemaid Tooloo who has always been part of her life either doesn't know about the difference in societal expectations, or never saw fit to mention it. That isn't so surprising, as Tooloo is depicted as several tacos short of a combo plate. But why, when some of the elves (especially Stormsong) are shown to be familiar with human culture, haven't any of them anticipated this as a source of trouble in Tinker and Wolf's marriage? Why doesn't anybody ever just sit down and say, “Look, honey, the rulers only choose guards with whom they get along well, and with opposite-sex guards, that can mean getting along with sexually. Your new husband has had sex with all of his female bodyguards in the past, and it's expected that you'll eventually take your own male Sekasha as lovers, too. Deal.” (I'm not even starting on how very heteronormative everything is. You're telling me there's all that lucious pretty and thousands of years in which to experiment, and nobody ever crosses those streams, so to speak? Yeah, right.) There's a perfect opening for such a speech in the book, a point when the need for it is made very, very obvious–but I suppose having it all out in the open would remove a source of conflict.
Why are so many authors so bloody timid about laying things out like that, about showing healthy communication between people? Yes, we can imagine the most amazing advances in technology, and societies very different from our current ones, but by Goddess we must continue to show people screwing up their relationships in exactly the same way as in Shakespeare's day or nobody could relate to them!
This was one of the books in my first “mailbox books” shipment from the library, and the only dud.
To be fair, I only read part of the first story, and quit. It seemed to be building up to something from the point-of-view of one of those women who cracks and kills all her children, and I just didn't want to go there. Ick.
