"Wide Open" by Deborah Coates-- Fantasy With a Little Rural Flavor

One of the best aspects of fantasy fiction is that there are no limits on where it can go or what it can do. It can take you to another world or bring magic to the most mundane setting. Over the last several years urban fantasy has been huge; a trend that fuses the bustle of the city with wild magic that often features vampires, werewolves and witches. But Deborah Coates goes an entirely different route with her ghost story that takes us to the plains of South Dakota.



Sergeant Hallie Michaels is called home from duty in Afghanistan with the awful news that her sister Dell has been killed in a tragic accident. But when Hallie gets off the plane and sees Dell's ghost, she begins to suspect that circumstances are not as simple as everyone wants her to think they are.



As Hallie begins looking into the circumstances behind Dell's death, she's brushed off as being too grief-stricken to accept that there was no foul play involved-- the sheriff even going so far to suggest it's a suicide. But Dell's ghostly presence tells Hallie that something else is happening. And when the ghosts of more young women begin to appear, Hallie realizes that something big is going on in her little town.



As Hallie returns to her old haunts in search of answers, she finds an unexpected ally in Boyd Davies, the new deputy sheriff, who always seems to be there when she needs him. But Boyd is also a mystery: too perfectly good looking and tidy to a fault. He seems to help Hallie even as he tries to dissuade her from digging into Del's death-- which only fuels Hallie's determination to find the truth.



Wide Open is an interesting book. It has a different pace; one that feels a bit rambling and takes a little time to get used to. And I didn't think I was into the book until I unexpectedly teared-up when Hallie calls the fiance of a young man who was killed in her unit in Afghanistan-- one whose ghost followed her back home.

     Hallie knew what she was supposed to say, not just what was expected, but what was true, but she hadn't ever said it. And now she was saying it for a ghost who couldn't say if for himself. Shit. She pressed the heel of her hand against her cheekbone just under her right eye, sucked in a breath, and said, "He loved you. He did. He told me that you read books all the time and he couldn't get over that-- how many books you read, that you talked about them like they were real-- the characters in them and the things they did. He told me before he met you, he only cared about math, that he didn't think anyone needed any of that other stuff-- English and other languages and history. He said you made him see the world. He told me he didn't even know he wanted someone until he met you."

     Estelle was crying hard now. Hallie rubbed a finger over her eye. "Look," she said. "I'm sorry. I'm-- it was stupid to call. I shouldn't have--"

     No! It's all right! It's--" She drew in a breath. "Thank you. Just for a minute, I could see him again, like he was here."

That moment was a pivotal point for me in "Wide Open" because the only emotion displayed by Hallie up to this point was anger-- and it's still her dominant characteristic throughout. This humanizing moment adds a lot of depth to Hallie and gives us a window into a person who has seen too much and armored herself with a bitter emotional shell that doesn't come down except in moments of vulnerability; and those don't come often.



The supernatural elements of "Wide Open" are subtle for the most part. Rather than go for the more violent, harsh aspects that are featured so often in urban fantasy, Coates chooses to populate her story with ghosts that are generally passive, though determined to find closure to their unresolved issues. Hallie, having had her own brush with death, is the only one who can see the ghosts and it's a disquieting reminder of the war she expects to return to. Hallie's not the type to shy away from confrontation- and she does get into a scrape or two- but the story never veers into anything graphic, and I found that to be a nice change of pace.



Hallie is one of those characters I could never get a physical feel for as she isn't described in detail, but I felt I knew her nonetheless. Coates has a way of painting a picture of a personality and I could really relate to Hallie as she'd grit her teeth in impatience at a friend who would ramble on with pointless conversation or describe herself as "big-picture messy." The way she'd look for something to hit, something to stoke her anger to keep her fear at bay, or her low-key way of communicating with her equally-stubborn father--all of these things make Hallie seem real.



Unfortunately the rest of the characters don't quite have the fullness of personality that Hallie has. The villains of the story aren't given more than one or two characteristics, like a mean streak or an unusual ability to listen when someone speaks. The back-stories are outlined but not really filled in enough to give them proper motives and the ultimate goal of the main villain seems sketchy and unrealized. Boyd is probably given the most physical detail of any character, including Hallie, but his story isn't really addressed until toward the end of the book and is isn't quite enough to make him as well-rounded a romantic interest as he could have been. Dell is also a character I would have liked to have seen developed a little more. Who she was and what role she played in her own death are touched on but never described in detail and so it was hard to feel invested in caring in that part of the story beyond a superficial level.



The strength in "Wide Open" is in the mood Coates sets. Hallie drives the story with her angry disposition and her attempts to stifle her frustrations while dealing with family, friends and old enemies. Her journey is strange yet still recognizable because we've all had those moments of going back home and, no matter what our life experiences have been, feeling as if we're being shoved back into the same routine of our former lives. But in this story strange magic and ghostly apparitions are a stark reminder that Hallie's home has changed-- and not for the better.



"Wide Open" is slightly uneven in detail but rich in atmosphere. Hallie's character defines the personality of the book and it is a unique combination of anger, frustration, wistfulness, sadness and an abiding, if understated, love. I might have wished for more detail from the book, but it was certainly never lacking in mood and for that alone I really enjoyed it. "Wide Open" ends in its own open-ended fashion, leaving room for a sequel, and I sincerely hope I get the chance to spend some more time with Hallie.



4 out of 5 stars.

"Wide Open" by Deborah Coates-- Fantasy With a Little Rural Flavor

One of the best aspects of fantasy fiction is that there are no limits on where it can go or what it can do. It can take you to another world or bring magic to the most mundane setting. Over the last several years urban fantasy has been huge; a trend that fuses the bustle of the city with wild magic that often features vampires, werewolves and witches. But Deborah Coates goes an entirely different route with her ghost story that takes us to the plains of South Dakota.



Sergeant Hallie Michaels is called home from duty in Afghanistan with the awful news that her sister Dell has been killed in a tragic accident. But when Hallie gets off the plane and sees Dell's ghost, she begins to suspect that circumstances are not as simple as everyone wants her to think they are.



As Hallie begins looking into the circumstances behind Dell's death, she's brushed off as being too grief-stricken to accept that there was no foul play involved-- the sheriff even going so far to suggest it's a suicide. But Dell's ghostly presence tells Hallie that something else is happening. And when the ghosts of more young women begin to appear, Hallie realizes that something big is going on in her little town.



As Hallie returns to her old haunts in search of answers, she finds an unexpected ally in Boyd Davies, the new deputy sheriff, who always seems to be there when she needs him. But Boyd is also a mystery: too perfectly good looking and tidy to a fault. He seems to help Hallie even as he tries to dissuade her from digging into Del's death-- which only fuels Hallie's determination to find the truth.



Wide Open is an interesting book. It has a different pace; one that feels a bit rambling and takes a little time to get used to. And I didn't think I was into the book until I unexpectedly teared-up when Hallie calls the fiance of a young man who was killed in her unit in Afghanistan-- one whose ghost followed her back home.

     Hallie knew what she was supposed to say, not just what was expected, but what was true, but she hadn't ever said it. And now she was saying it for a ghost who couldn't say if for himself. Shit. She pressed the heel of her hand against her cheekbone just under her right eye, sucked in a breath, and said, "He loved you. He did. He told me that you read books all the time and he couldn't get over that-- how many books you read, that you talked about them like they were real-- the characters in them and the things they did. He told me before he met you, he only cared about math, that he didn't think anyone needed any of that other stuff-- English and other languages and history. He said you made him see the world. He told me he didn't even know he wanted someone until he met you."

     Estelle was crying hard now. Hallie rubbed a finger over her eye. "Look," she said. "I'm sorry. I'm-- it was stupid to call. I shouldn't have--"

     No! It's all right! It's--" She drew in a breath. "Thank you. Just for a minute, I could see him again, like he was here."

That moment was a pivotal point for me in "Wide Open" because the only emotion displayed by Hallie up to this point was anger-- and it's still her dominant characteristic throughout. This humanizing moment adds a lot of depth to Hallie and gives us a window into a person who has seen too much and armored herself with a bitter emotional shell that doesn't come down except in moments of vulnerability; and those don't come often.



The supernatural elements of "Wide Open" are subtle for the most part. Rather than go for the more violent, harsh aspects that are featured so often in urban fantasy, Coates chooses to populate her story with ghosts that are generally passive, though determined to find closure to their unresolved issues. Hallie, having had her own brush with death, is the only one who can see the ghosts and it's a disquieting reminder of the war she expects to return to. Hallie's not the type to shy away from confrontation- and she does get into a scrape or two- but the story never veers into anything graphic, and I found that to be a nice change of pace.



Hallie is one of those characters I could never get a physical feel for as she isn't described in detail, but I felt I knew her nonetheless. Coates has a way of painting a picture of a personality and I could really relate to Hallie as she'd grit her teeth in impatience at a friend who would ramble on with pointless conversation or describe herself as "big-picture messy." The way she'd look for something to hit, something to stoke her anger to keep her fear at bay, or her low-key way of communicating with her equally-stubborn father--all of these things make Hallie seem real.



Unfortunately the rest of the characters don't quite have the fullness of personality that Hallie has. The villains of the story aren't given more than one or two characteristics, like a mean streak or an unusual ability to listen when someone speaks. The back-stories are outlined but not really filled in enough to give them proper motives and the ultimate goal of the main villain seems sketchy and unrealized. Boyd is probably given the most physical detail of any character, including Hallie, but his story isn't really addressed until toward the end of the book and is isn't quite enough to make him as well-rounded a romantic interest as he could have been. Dell is also a character I would have liked to have seen developed a little more. Who she was and what role she played in her own death are touched on but never described in detail and so it was hard to feel invested in caring in that part of the story beyond a superficial level.



The strength in "Wide Open" is in the mood Coates sets. Hallie drives the story with her angry disposition and her attempts to stifle her frustrations while dealing with family, friends and old enemies. Her journey is strange yet still recognizable because we've all had those moments of going back home and, no matter what our life experiences have been, feeling as if we're being shoved back into the same routine of our former lives. But in this story strange magic and ghostly apparitions are a stark reminder that Hallie's home has changed-- and not for the better.



"Wide Open" is slightly uneven in detail but rich in atmosphere. Hallie's character defines the personality of the book and it is a unique combination of anger, frustration, wistfulness, sadness and an abiding, if understated, love. I might have wished for more detail from the book, but it was certainly never lacking in mood and for that alone I really enjoyed it. "Wide Open" ends in its own open-ended fashion, leaving room for a sequel, and I sincerely hope I get the chance to spend some more time with Hallie.



4 out of 5 stars.

"Partials" by Dan Wells-- Hovers Between YA and Adult Fiction

~Synopsis

The human race is all but extinct after a war with Partials—engineered organic beings identical to humans—has decimated the population. Reduced to only tens of thousands by RM, a weaponized virus to which only a fraction of humanity is immune, the survivors in North America have huddled together on Long Island while the Partials have mysteriously retreated. The threat of the Partials is still imminent, but, worse, no baby has been born immune to RM in more than a decade. Our time is running out.



Kira, a sixteen-year-old medic-in-training, is on the front lines of this battle, seeing RM ravage the community while mandatory pregnancy laws have pushed what's left of humanity to the brink of civil war, and she's not content to stand by and watch. But as she makes a desperate decision to save the last of her race, she will find that the survival of humans and Partials alike rests in her attempts to uncover the connections between them—connections that humanity has forgotten, or perhaps never even knew were there.

There were several things that jumped out at me when I first read the synopsis for Partials by Dan Wells, from the "mandatory pregnancy laws" to the idea of organic beings that look just like us, and in many respects the promise of the description was delivered very well. In other respects, I felt like I was reading a revised version of "Battlestar Galactica."



Like "BSG" the human population of Earth is virtually wiped out when genetically engineered people, in this case called Partials instead of Cylons, turn on their creators. Instead of being destroyed by a series of nuclear explosions, humanity is destroyed by a virulent virus that very few people have an immunity to. And rather than fleeing into space, the remnants of humanity somehow end up in Long Island while they warily wait for the Partials to make their final attack.



The added wrinkle to this story is the fact that no baby born in the eleven years since the original attack has survived more than a few days after birth. Out of desperation The Senate has instituted mandatory pregnancy laws that require women to give birth as often as possible once they turn eighteen-- and The Senate is thinking of dropping the age limit.



In a lot of ways "Partials" is my kind of YA fiction. The main characters are teenagers but the dystopian backdrop insures that they don't act like your average high schoolers. These kids have had adult responsibilities from a very young age and the looming reality of enforced childbirth hangs heavy over the girls. But my taste in YA fiction is probably not in-sync with your average teen girl and I must confess that the lack of angst and romance may work against Wells in this case.



Kira, the main character of the story, is also a pretty good heroine. She's smart-- somewhat unrealistically so-- and definitely a girl of action. Kira drives the whole story and you get a sense that the Senate has virtually given up on searching for a cure for the virus-- intending to rely on continuous births to finally produce an immune child. Kira's determination to save humanity is certainly an admirable quality, but it's always presented against the unrealistic stubbornness and greed of The Senate and it does get tiring when none of the adults are presented in a positive light-- something that may not bother teen readers of this book.



The secondary characters are likable, but a bit vague. It's hard to tell if we're supposed to like Kira's boyfriend as he is sometimes a bit needy, while at other times very understanding. I get the feeling he's replaceable. Her friends are revealed almost exclusively through dialog so we never get more than a superficial view into their likes, dislikes, hope, dreams etc., and that makes them harder to connect to. The same goes for the antagonists in the book-- all dialog; so we're left to speculate as to their real motives, which adds some mystery but takes away depth.



The science in "Partials" is a big part of the story and may end up feeling a bit technical for some readers, thought it is quite stripped down to make it easily understandable. I've read a few reviews that claim the military element is too heavy as well, though it really only exists on the periphery of the story. Personally I liked these aspects of the story as it added a sense of realism and made a lot of sense in the overall context.



On the whole I liked "Partials." The plot is somewhat derivative of "Battlestar Galactica" but offers a few good twists that makes it a unique story in its own right. I like Wells' style of writing a great deal as he excels at the "show don't tell" type of narrative, though the characterizations do occasionally fall flat as a result. The pacing is excellent and Wells' ability to drive up the tension is on full display. I also appreciated that the story wasn't too easy to anticipate and kept me guessing quite a bit. While I do have a few critiques I did enjoy "Partials" and feel it has the potential to turn into a pretty good series-- I will definitely be checking out the sequel.



3 and 1/2 out of 5 stars.

"Partials" by Dan Wells-- Hovers Between YA and Adult Fiction

~Synopsis

The human race is all but extinct after a war with Partials—engineered organic beings identical to humans—has decimated the population. Reduced to only tens of thousands by RM, a weaponized virus to which only a fraction of humanity is immune, the survivors in North America have huddled together on Long Island while the Partials have mysteriously retreated. The threat of the Partials is still imminent, but, worse, no baby has been born immune to RM in more than a decade. Our time is running out.



Kira, a sixteen-year-old medic-in-training, is on the front lines of this battle, seeing RM ravage the community while mandatory pregnancy laws have pushed what's left of humanity to the brink of civil war, and she's not content to stand by and watch. But as she makes a desperate decision to save the last of her race, she will find that the survival of humans and Partials alike rests in her attempts to uncover the connections between them—connections that humanity has forgotten, or perhaps never even knew were there.

There were several things that jumped out at me when I first read the synopsis for Partials by Dan Wells, from the "mandatory pregnancy laws" to the idea of organic beings that look just like us, and in many respects the promise of the description was delivered very well. In other respects, I felt like I was reading a revised version of "Battlestar Galactica."



Like "BSG" the human population of Earth is virtually wiped out when genetically engineered people, in this case called Partials instead of Cylons, turn on their creators. Instead of being destroyed by a series of nuclear explosions, humanity is destroyed by a virulent virus that very few people have an immunity to. And rather than fleeing into space, the remnants of humanity somehow end up in Long Island while they warily wait for the Partials to make their final attack.



The added wrinkle to this story is the fact that no baby born in the eleven years since the original attack has survived more than a few days after birth. Out of desperation The Senate has instituted mandatory pregnancy laws that require women to give birth as often as possible once they turn eighteen-- and The Senate is thinking of dropping the age limit.



In a lot of ways "Partials" is my kind of YA fiction. The main characters are teenagers but the dystopian backdrop insures that they don't act like your average high schoolers. These kids have had adult responsibilities from a very young age and the looming reality of enforced childbirth hangs heavy over the girls. But my taste in YA fiction is probably not in-sync with your average teen girl and I must confess that the lack of angst and romance may work against Wells in this case.



Kira, the main character of the story, is also a pretty good heroine. She's smart-- somewhat unrealistically so-- and definitely a girl of action. Kira drives the whole story and you get a sense that the Senate has virtually given up on searching for a cure for the virus-- intending to rely on continuous births to finally produce an immune child. Kira's determination to save humanity is certainly an admirable quality, but it's always presented against the unrealistic stubbornness and greed of The Senate and it does get tiring when none of the adults are presented in a positive light-- something that may not bother teen readers of this book.



The secondary characters are likable, but a bit vague. It's hard to tell if we're supposed to like Kira's boyfriend as he is sometimes a bit needy, while at other times very understanding. I get the feeling he's replaceable. Her friends are revealed almost exclusively through dialog so we never get more than a superficial view into their likes, dislikes, hope, dreams etc., and that makes them harder to connect to. The same goes for the antagonists in the book-- all dialog; so we're left to speculate as to their real motives, which adds some mystery but takes away depth.



The science in "Partials" is a big part of the story and may end up feeling a bit technical for some readers, thought it is quite stripped down to make it easily understandable. I've read a few reviews that claim the military element is too heavy as well, though it really only exists on the periphery of the story. Personally I liked these aspects of the story as it added a sense of realism and made a lot of sense in the overall context.



On the whole I liked "Partials." The plot is somewhat derivative of "Battlestar Galactica" but offers a few good twists that makes it a unique story in its own right. I like Wells' style of writing a great deal as he excels at the "show don't tell" type of narrative, though the characterizations do occasionally fall flat as a result. The pacing is excellent and Wells' ability to drive up the tension is on full display. I also appreciated that the story wasn't too easy to anticipate and kept me guessing quite a bit. While I do have a few critiques I did enjoy "Partials" and feel it has the potential to turn into a pretty good series-- I will definitely be checking out the sequel.



3 and 1/2 out of 5 stars.

"Firelight" by Kristen Callihan-- Great Romance, but So So Paranormal Fiction

Synopsis:



London, 1881

Once the flames are ignited . . .

Miranda Ellis is a woman tormented. Plagued since birth by a strange and powerful gift, she has spent her entire life struggling to control her exceptional abilities. Yet one innocent but irreversible mistake has left her family's fortune decimated and forced her to wed London's most nefarious nobleman.



They will burn for eternity . . .

Lord Benjamin Archer is no ordinary man. Doomed to hide his disfigured face behind masks, Archer knows it's selfish to take Miranda as his bride. Yet he can't help being drawn to the flame-haired beauty whose touch sparks a passion he hasn't felt in a lifetime. When Archer is accused of a series of gruesome murders, he gives in to the beastly nature he has fought so hard to hide from the world. But the curse that haunts him cannot be denied. Now, to save his soul, Miranda will enter a world of dark magic and darker intrigue. For only she can see the man hiding behind the mask.



     I picked up Firelight on a whim-- one of those books that I read between my have-to-read pile as a palate-cleanser of sorts: something light and frothy that doesn't take too much brain power to process. And in that respect "Firelight" was a good pick because it's a fast, easy read. Where it doesn't hold up has to do with the genre it's trying to fit itself into.



     Despite the set-up of the story, including Miranda's magic and Benjamin's curse, the paranormal aspects take a huge backseat to the romance that is the heart of the book. Miranda is a staple of the romance genre: beautiful, headstrong and intelligent. The "fiery" redhead (in this case literally so) who captivates a mysterious and dangerous noble. She also has a typical background in that it's the hard-knock life of a daughter of a once wealthy man who forces his daughter into a life of thievery to keep food on their table. The twist here is that the family misfortune has a lot to do with Miranda's ability, which allows her father to use guilt as a lever to control her and push her into a marriage against her will.

     Benjamin Archer plays the role of the beast to Miranda's beauty and the mystery behind his need for a mask is one the author skillfully draws out through nearly the whole book. Benjamin is well balanced against Miranda as he is just as stubborn as her and the characters have an excellent chemistry.



     "Firelight" is, essentially, a romance novel-- and it's a good romance. The mystery of Benjamin's deformity (or injury-- we're left to speculate) is an excellent device that allows the characters to bond through common personality traits rather than physical attraction. It really is a very "Beauty and the Beast" story. But the paranormal aspects are not as well developed. Miranda's ability is not given enough history to make it as fully realized as it should be: how she discovered her power, her family's reaction to it and/or details about her struggle to control it would have added a lot that aspect of the story, but that territory is never really explored. Benjamin's history is also grounded in the occult, but that whole story is mostly revealed at the end of the book, in a very info-dump fashion, and the rushed feel of it makes it seem more like an addendum rather than a well thought out part of the story.

     What you're left with is a romance that has a few paranormal elements-- but not something I think of as a true blending of the two genres. If you're primarily a fan of romance "Firelight" is a nice diversion. If you're more interested in paranormal fiction, you would probably find the story lacking.



3 out of 5 stars.

"Firelight" by Kristen Callihan-- Great Romance, but So So Paranormal Fiction

Synopsis:



London, 1881

Once the flames are ignited . . .

Miranda Ellis is a woman tormented. Plagued since birth by a strange and powerful gift, she has spent her entire life struggling to control her exceptional abilities. Yet one innocent but irreversible mistake has left her family's fortune decimated and forced her to wed London's most nefarious nobleman.



They will burn for eternity . . .

Lord Benjamin Archer is no ordinary man. Doomed to hide his disfigured face behind masks, Archer knows it's selfish to take Miranda as his bride. Yet he can't help being drawn to the flame-haired beauty whose touch sparks a passion he hasn't felt in a lifetime. When Archer is accused of a series of gruesome murders, he gives in to the beastly nature he has fought so hard to hide from the world. But the curse that haunts him cannot be denied. Now, to save his soul, Miranda will enter a world of dark magic and darker intrigue. For only she can see the man hiding behind the mask.



     I picked up Firelight on a whim-- one of those books that I read between my have-to-read pile as a palate-cleanser of sorts: something light and frothy that doesn't take too much brain power to process. And in that respect "Firelight" was a good pick because it's a fast, easy read. Where it doesn't hold up has to do with the genre it's trying to fit itself into.



     Despite the set-up of the story, including Miranda's magic and Benjamin's curse, the paranormal aspects take a huge backseat to the romance that is the heart of the book. Miranda is a staple of the romance genre: beautiful, headstrong and intelligent. The "fiery" redhead (in this case literally so) who captivates a mysterious and dangerous noble. She also has a typical background in that it's the hard-knock life of a daughter of a once wealthy man who forces his daughter into a life of thievery to keep food on their table. The twist here is that the family misfortune has a lot to do with Miranda's ability, which allows her father to use guilt as a lever to control her and push her into a marriage against her will.

     Benjamin Archer plays the role of the beast to Miranda's beauty and the mystery behind his need for a mask is one the author skillfully draws out through nearly the whole book. Benjamin is well balanced against Miranda as he is just as stubborn as her and the characters have an excellent chemistry.



     "Firelight" is, essentially, a romance novel-- and it's a good romance. The mystery of Benjamin's deformity (or injury-- we're left to speculate) is an excellent device that allows the characters to bond through common personality traits rather than physical attraction. It really is a very "Beauty and the Beast" story. But the paranormal aspects are not as well developed. Miranda's ability is not given enough history to make it as fully realized as it should be: how she discovered her power, her family's reaction to it and/or details about her struggle to control it would have added a lot that aspect of the story, but that territory is never really explored. Benjamin's history is also grounded in the occult, but that whole story is mostly revealed at the end of the book, in a very info-dump fashion, and the rushed feel of it makes it seem more like an addendum rather than a well thought out part of the story.

     What you're left with is a romance that has a few paranormal elements-- but not something I think of as a true blending of the two genres. If you're primarily a fan of romance "Firelight" is a nice diversion. If you're more interested in paranormal fiction, you would probably find the story lacking.



3 out of 5 stars.

Book Review: Terminal World by Alastair Reynolds

Advocates of steampunk say that it is a trend you can not “do wrong”. The marriage of the Steam Age (also known as the Victorian Era in Europe) and Science Fiction is one where as long as a true love of any one of these spouses exists, any infidelities can be forgiven. A novel need only recognize the science behind steampunk, give it things to adapt, and recognize the impact that Victorian fashion has on the trend, in order to be a successful member of the movement. It is in this way that someone who has no interest in fashion, little interest in the social aspects of history, and no desire to turn away from electricity-inspired Science Fiction, can still be recognized as a steampunk fan, due to my fannish love of seeing characters and events adapted to other universes- Dungeons and Dragons versions of Star Wars characters, Star Wars RPG adaptations of slasher movie monsters, and in this case, steampunk renditions of those self-same characters.

It is in this same manner that Terminal World by Alastair Reynolds has been deemed “a steampunk novel”. I held off on reading this for a long time despite curiosity, concerned that it would be an extremely niche novel, written with a prose style matching the incredibly difficult to read Twelfth Enchantment, the last independent universe novel I reviewed.

For any with similar concerns about steampunk novels, let me address your concerns. Terminal World has angels, lasers, cyborgs, and sentient mechs. It also has a fleet of zeppelins, a place called “Steamville”, horse-drawn carriages and a nod to Steampunk fashion. I would call this novel an introduction to steampunk, because that's what it was to me: something to test the waters, to see it in action in a novel that doesn't beat it over your head, sets up a universe in which Steampunk is a necessary alternative to traditional technology, and most importantly, tells a compelling story.

After traveling through the eyes of a one-chapter opening character, we follow the path of Quillon, your standard half-breed Space Elf character. Quillon is the reliable narrator because his physical modifications and profession of choice allow him to go places most characters couldn't- at least, and remain coherent enough to narrate the story. Through his eyes, following the less specialized but more experienced Meroka, we're introduced to this world and all of the ins and outs of it. Quillon is an intelligent enough character to ask the questions the audience does, but not intelligent enough to know all of the answers before the audience can get so much as a clue. This might make his story arc somewhat more thoughtful than some readers like- it's not a “sit back and relax” type of story unless you don't mind being somewhat ignorant of the details.

While Quillon is a meek, incidental supersurvivor, Meroka adds a bit of color by being a foul-mouthed, gun-loving mercenary woman with a history. It's this history that draws the most attention from me- mainly, because we don't learn much about it. Much like the true ending and results of the events in this story, the history of Meroka and similar characters is left entirely to the readers' imagination. While in some ways this helps build the atmosphere of the novel, its status as a standalone novel really hurts some of these details. The story is incomplete, and there are no follow-ups to fall back on.



In those areas where the setting is complete, it is a masterful effort to introduce an individual to Steampunk writing. This is a world where technology such as our own exists- we're told of a place known as "Circuit City", and there are places where carnivorous cyborgs rule the roost. We don't see these places, because observing them first hand would make the rest of the book too hard for most of us to maintain our suspension of disbelief.



The world of Terminal World is besieged by The Mire, a terrible natural phenomenon that separates regions of land, air and presumably water by how complex something inside it- most notably technology, but anything with molecules is effected- can be inside them. We first open up in Neon Heights, a zone where some electricity works, but it's a lower technology zone different enough from the 21st century to avoid the problems I just mentioned.



Throughout the early chapters of the book we're taught things about Steamville. We learn about zone sickness, the side effect of traveling between zones, and that electricity doesn't work in Steamville. Before we ever make it to the zone, we see a wealthy family in Victorian era dress that made the trip because their zone doesn't allow the usage of X-rays. It's those details that tell us pretty much all we need to know about the differences between Neon Heights and Steamville, and once Quillon and Meroka make the trip, we've learned what we can expect about traveling for the rest of the novel.



Without learning about anyone's history other than Quillon's, not learning the true nature of the angels or their wars with regular, “prehumans”, and being left hanging as to whether or not the actions of the main characters actually did any good in the short-term future of the planet or the city of Spearpoint, finishing the book feels as though you've just dedicated hours of your life to filler. It's very entertaining filler that makes you think and invest in the world it describes to you, but ultimately, without further novels in this universe that's all it is. Still, if you've been looking for a first experience with Steampunk or just have a ton of time to kill and need a book to read, Terminal World will fit the bill, as long as you don't mind Meroka's mouth.

Bill Silvia is a regular contributor at Fantasy & SciFi Lovin' News & Reviews. You can find more of his content at http://www.MiBreviews.com

Book Review: Terminal World by Alastair Reynolds

Advocates of steampunk say that it is a trend you can not “do wrong”. The marriage of the Steam Age (also known as the Victorian Era in Europe) and Science Fiction is one where as long as a true love of any one of these spouses exists, any infidelities can be forgiven. A novel need only recognize the science behind steampunk, give it things to adapt, and recognize the impact that Victorian fashion has on the trend, in order to be a successful member of the movement. It is in this way that someone who has no interest in fashion, little interest in the social aspects of history, and no desire to turn away from electricity-inspired Science Fiction, can still be recognized as a steampunk fan, due to my fannish love of seeing characters and events adapted to other universes- Dungeons and Dragons versions of Star Wars characters, Star Wars RPG adaptations of slasher movie monsters, and in this case, steampunk renditions of those self-same characters.

It is in this same manner that Terminal World by Alastair Reynolds has been deemed “a steampunk novel”. I held off on reading this for a long time despite curiosity, concerned that it would be an extremely niche novel, written with a prose style matching the incredibly difficult to read Twelfth Enchantment, the last independent universe novel I reviewed.

For any with similar concerns about steampunk novels, let me address your concerns. Terminal World has angels, lasers, cyborgs, and sentient mechs. It also has a fleet of zeppelins, a place called “Steamville”, horse-drawn carriages and a nod to Steampunk fashion. I would call this novel an introduction to steampunk, because that's what it was to me: something to test the waters, to see it in action in a novel that doesn't beat it over your head, sets up a universe in which Steampunk is a necessary alternative to traditional technology, and most importantly, tells a compelling story.

After traveling through the eyes of a one-chapter opening character, we follow the path of Quillon, your standard half-breed Space Elf character. Quillon is the reliable narrator because his physical modifications and profession of choice allow him to go places most characters couldn't- at least, and remain coherent enough to narrate the story. Through his eyes, following the less specialized but more experienced Meroka, we're introduced to this world and all of the ins and outs of it. Quillon is an intelligent enough character to ask the questions the audience does, but not intelligent enough to know all of the answers before the audience can get so much as a clue. This might make his story arc somewhat more thoughtful than some readers like- it's not a “sit back and relax” type of story unless you don't mind being somewhat ignorant of the details.

While Quillon is a meek, incidental supersurvivor, Meroka adds a bit of color by being a foul-mouthed, gun-loving mercenary woman with a history. It's this history that draws the most attention from me- mainly, because we don't learn much about it. Much like the true ending and results of the events in this story, the history of Meroka and similar characters is left entirely to the readers' imagination. While in some ways this helps build the atmosphere of the novel, its status as a standalone novel really hurts some of these details. The story is incomplete, and there are no follow-ups to fall back on.



In those areas where the setting is complete, it is a masterful effort to introduce an individual to Steampunk writing. This is a world where technology such as our own exists- we're told of a place known as "Circuit City", and there are places where carnivorous cyborgs rule the roost. We don't see these places, because observing them first hand would make the rest of the book too hard for most of us to maintain our suspension of disbelief.



The world of Terminal World is besieged by The Mire, a terrible natural phenomenon that separates regions of land, air and presumably water by how complex something inside it- most notably technology, but anything with molecules is effected- can be inside them. We first open up in Neon Heights, a zone where some electricity works, but it's a lower technology zone different enough from the 21st century to avoid the problems I just mentioned.



Throughout the early chapters of the book we're taught things about Steamville. We learn about zone sickness, the side effect of traveling between zones, and that electricity doesn't work in Steamville. Before we ever make it to the zone, we see a wealthy family in Victorian era dress that made the trip because their zone doesn't allow the usage of X-rays. It's those details that tell us pretty much all we need to know about the differences between Neon Heights and Steamville, and once Quillon and Meroka make the trip, we've learned what we can expect about traveling for the rest of the novel.



Without learning about anyone's history other than Quillon's, not learning the true nature of the angels or their wars with regular, “prehumans”, and being left hanging as to whether or not the actions of the main characters actually did any good in the short-term future of the planet or the city of Spearpoint, finishing the book feels as though you've just dedicated hours of your life to filler. It's very entertaining filler that makes you think and invest in the world it describes to you, but ultimately, without further novels in this universe that's all it is. Still, if you've been looking for a first experience with Steampunk or just have a ton of time to kill and need a book to read, Terminal World will fit the bill, as long as you don't mind Meroka's mouth.

Bill Silvia is a regular contributor at Fantasy & SciFi Lovin' News & Reviews. You can find more of his content at http://www.MiBreviews.com

"Discount Armageddon" by Seanan McGuire-- Light Urban Fantasy Done Right

Verity Price was raised as a Cryptozoologist-- someone who studies non-human creatures known as cryptids. She knows all about bogeymen, chupacabras and ghouls, though she'd rather be dancing the rumba. Verity negotiates a compromise with her family that allows her to live in New York City and pursue a ballroom dancing career as long as she agrees to monitor the local cryptid community.



And life in New York is certainly interesting for Verity. Between living in a barely-legal sublet, owned by a Sasquatch, to working as a cocktail waitress in a cryptid strip-club, she just manages to squeeze in enough time to prowl the rooftops and watch over the local cryptids. What little time she has left, and it isn't much, is used for her beloved dance competitions.



But the delicate balance Verity has managed in her life comes to a screeching halt when she encounters a member of The Covenant. Many generations before Verity was born The Price family split from The Covenant over a difference in how to treat the cryptid community: the Prices believe in living in harmony with them while The Covenant believes they should all be destroyed. And if butting heads with The Covenant isn't enough, there are also rumors of something big, very big, living in the sewers of New York -- and cryptids are disappearing in large numbers.



I've been hearing good things about Seanan McGuire for awhile and Discount Armageddon proves that McGuire is a writer that only gets better with each book. When I first read the description for "Discount Armageddon" I wasn't sure about the idea of a heroine who happens to be infatuated with ballroom dance, but it's a idea that works surprisingly well. Verity has an unusual upbringing as someone who grows up in a family of experts on monstrous creatures and is trained to defend herself from childhood. Unlike her siblings, who demonstrate a love of bombs and booby-traps practically from infancy, Verity learns to incorporate her love of dancing into her martial-arts training-- and as a martial artist who has preached for many years that dancing and fighting are very complimentary I heartily approve of this particular plot point.



But Verity's dancing is only a small part of a particularly well constructed story. I love the concept of a community of creatures, known as cryptids in this case, that live alongside an oblivious humanity. It's not a new idea but the mythology here is done so well. McGuire takes urban legends, fairy tales and her own creations and melds them into a fresh, fun concoction. And creatures that we think we know, like the Gorgon or the boogeyman, are tweaked just enough to put them into the story as secondary characters and it works.



And critiques I have for "Discount Armageddon" are really minor. The main one would be that the initial antagonist in the book, the member of The Covenant that Verity meets, isn't really antagonistic enough.  He and Verity have a believable chemistry but I think I would have liked to see a little more of the push-and-pull that comes with that particular story line--the moment when he must challenge his inbred loyalties is a bit anticlimactic because he never appears to fight them that hard.



But as a work of light paranormal fiction "Discount Armageddon" is a nearly perfect example of what the genre should be. The world that is constructed here is nicely complex without being overly complicated. The characters, especially Verity, are well developed and convincingly original and there's never that moment where you feel bombarded with names or struggle with remembering who's who. The story moves briskly with lots of humor thrown in but the balance of action is right on the money and McGuire proves adept at making sure the story never gets too busy. Even the romance angle is well integrated and never steals too much from the overall narrative. If you're a fan of urban fantasy that is light on the angst and drama and strong on action and fun, then I can easily recommend "Discount Armageddon."



4 1/2 out of 5 stars.

"Discount Armageddon" by Seanan McGuire-- Light Urban Fantasy Done Right

Verity Price was raised as a Cryptozoologist-- someone who studies non-human creatures known as cryptids. She knows all about bogeymen, chupacabras and ghouls, though she'd rather be dancing the rumba. Verity negotiates a compromise with her family that allows her to live in New York City and pursue a ballroom dancing career as long as she agrees to monitor the local cryptid community.



And life in New York is certainly interesting for Verity. Between living in a barely-legal sublet, owned by a Sasquatch, to working as a cocktail waitress in a cryptid strip-club, she just manages to squeeze in enough time to prowl the rooftops and watch over the local cryptids. What little time she has left, and it isn't much, is used for her beloved dance competitions.



But the delicate balance Verity has managed in her life comes to a screeching halt when she encounters a member of The Covenant. Many generations before Verity was born The Price family split from The Covenant over a difference in how to treat the cryptid community: the Prices believe in living in harmony with them while The Covenant believes they should all be destroyed. And if butting heads with The Covenant isn't enough, there are also rumors of something big, very big, living in the sewers of New York -- and cryptids are disappearing in large numbers.



I've been hearing good things about Seanan McGuire for awhile and Discount Armageddon proves that McGuire is a writer that only gets better with each book. When I first read the description for "Discount Armageddon" I wasn't sure about the idea of a heroine who happens to be infatuated with ballroom dance, but it's a idea that works surprisingly well. Verity has an unusual upbringing as someone who grows up in a family of experts on monstrous creatures and is trained to defend herself from childhood. Unlike her siblings, who demonstrate a love of bombs and booby-traps practically from infancy, Verity learns to incorporate her love of dancing into her martial-arts training-- and as a martial artist who has preached for many years that dancing and fighting are very complimentary I heartily approve of this particular plot point.



But Verity's dancing is only a small part of a particularly well constructed story. I love the concept of a community of creatures, known as cryptids in this case, that live alongside an oblivious humanity. It's not a new idea but the mythology here is done so well. McGuire takes urban legends, fairy tales and her own creations and melds them into a fresh, fun concoction. And creatures that we think we know, like the Gorgon or the boogeyman, are tweaked just enough to put them into the story as secondary characters and it works.



And critiques I have for "Discount Armageddon" are really minor. The main one would be that the initial antagonist in the book, the member of The Covenant that Verity meets, isn't really antagonistic enough.  He and Verity have a believable chemistry but I think I would have liked to see a little more of the push-and-pull that comes with that particular story line--the moment when he must challenge his inbred loyalties is a bit anticlimactic because he never appears to fight them that hard.



But as a work of light paranormal fiction "Discount Armageddon" is a nearly perfect example of what the genre should be. The world that is constructed here is nicely complex without being overly complicated. The characters, especially Verity, are well developed and convincingly original and there's never that moment where you feel bombarded with names or struggle with remembering who's who. The story moves briskly with lots of humor thrown in but the balance of action is right on the money and McGuire proves adept at making sure the story never gets too busy. Even the romance angle is well integrated and never steals too much from the overall narrative. If you're a fan of urban fantasy that is light on the angst and drama and strong on action and fun, then I can easily recommend "Discount Armageddon."



4 1/2 out of 5 stars.

"Blackbirds" by Chuck Wendig-- Brash and Brilliant

When you look at a cover for a book like Blackbirds you think you're going to get something in keeping with the ethereal image; but Chuck Wendig offers something else entirely-- and that's not a bad thing at all.



Miriam Black can see a person's death whenever she makes skin-to-skin contact: she knows the exact moment and circumstances and sees it all with disturbing clarity. Miriam has adapted to her strange life by becoming a scavenger of the dead. Knowing when someone will die, alone, doesn't provide Miriam with a living much beyond subsistence level, but it enables her to drift along the margins of society without having to interact with people beyond a superficial level-- which is just how Miriam likes it.



Miriam knows that interference with fate is not an option-- she's tried to help people in the past but that only seemed to cement the final outcome. But when Miriam shakes hands with Louis Darling and sees that he will die in 30 days, while calling her name, she realizes that fate might be choosing to involve her this time around.



I first became interested in "Blackbirds" because of its evocative cover, so beautifully done by Joey Hi-Fi, and I had the expectation that Miriam would have a dreamy way of looking at the world as one of those people who accepts their life with calm stoicism. But Miriam is anything but complacent and that fact is made clear right away as she springs to life, full of piss and vinegar, in all of her chain-smoking, swearing glory.



Miriam is a reflection of the world she inhabits. Any casual contact with another person brings visions of death that can be as benign as a heart attack or as graphic as a gunshot to the head. There's no censor to spare Miriam from the gory details and she uses her abrasive manner to shield herself from life's harsh realities. But the usual strategies she employs to keep her contact with others to an absolute minimum are upended when she meets Louis. It isn't just the vision of his death, or her involvement, that unsettles Miriam but also the unexpected kindness Louis shows her when they meet. So it's especially tragic when Miriam is unwillingly pulled into a cruel con targeting Louis that further deepens her frustration over her inability to change his destiny.



Miriam is one of the best characters I've encountered in modern fiction. She's someone who should be fairly unsympathetic thanks to the nearly-constant stream of profanity that comes out of her mouth, but there is so much more to Miriam than a few f-bombs. She is damaged and yet strangely endearing. Normal relationships are impossible so she compensates by being incredibly verbose with people she feels safe with-- usually among the about-to-die crowd. The connections she makes in those moments aren't much, but they're all she has. She's young but worn out, almost grimy, and prone to bad decisions in stressful situations. And for all that, she still yearns to do the right thing-- even when she's sure she'll fail.



The villains in "Blackbirds" run the gamut from psychopathic to mildly conniving. Characters that could be easy stereotypes are deftly shaped into something different, strange even, yet still convincing in a real-world setting. What I appreciated about this aspect of the book was that each character had a distinct motivation, some as simple as just doing the job and others with more menacing undertones, that kept the narrative interesting and credible even when circumstances get weird.



It would be easy to make superficial comparisons to authors like Joe Abercrombie thanks to the profanity used in "Blackbirds," but I think I like Wendig's style more than Abercrombie's (no disrespect to Joe) because I never felt like there was an underlying thread of nihilism to the story. It's bleak at times, but there's such a ferocious sense of humor in Miriam's character that you know she still has a glimmer of hope no matter how dark things get. I don't want to offer too many spoilers in this review, but I will say that the mystery of Miriam's ability is never fully revealed-- though the outline of a reason is there. At first I couldn't decide if I hated that aspect of the book or not. But I have since come to the conclusion that it is not only appropriate to the flow of the story, it makes perfect sense that Miriam's story can only be partially told because she can't ever get to the right level of connection in a relationship to really have a chance to open up to anyone. The gaps in the story create such a sense of poignancy and add a depth I didn't know could exist by not fully revealing something.



"Blackbirds" is one of those books that lingers with you a bit-- in a good way. Wendig has such a bold style that the emotional payoff is as big as the characters. It's the kind of book that has the potential to put Wendig on the map as a 'must-read' author-- I know he's made my list. Highly recommended.



5 out of 5 stars.

Book Review: Halo: Glasslands by Karen Traviss

After a long time of fighting, the UNSC and Covenant are finally at a point where peace is now an option. As this is in the works, however, a more subtle war is still being fought behind the scenes, and Dr. Halsey – thought to be dead outside of the Forerunner slipspace bubble she fled into with her few Spartans – stumbles across a huge technological breakthrough from a long lost race.

In retrospect, it was a terrible idea for me to read Glasslands with Fall of Reach being my only prior experience as far as Halo books go. In my defense, however, Karen Traviss (the author herself!) did say that this novel was only an unofficial sequel to Ghosts of Onyx and it wouldn't be a continuation of the same story with the same cast. Add that to the fact that this is technically the first book in a separate series of Halo novels than the main novels are part of, this one centering more on the post-war events following Halo 3 and, well, it sounds like this would be a fine Halo book to pretty much start with, right?

Ha. You silly, silly reader, operating on the assumption that the logical route would be taken, and that the author was right about her own book. As if.

In reality, at least as far as Dr. Halsey's story goes, Glasslands takes place immediately after the events of Onyx; I'm pretty sure it was literally five minutes after the last page of that book. The first roughly fifty pages of this novel are spent wondering what the hell went on in Ghosts of Onyx if you're lame like me and didn't read that prior to this, wishing beyond all hope that we would get some slight exposition. Of course, this is Karen Traviss we're talking about here, usually a fantastic writer in all respects, so that isn't to say we go the entire book that way, we just have to play the total guessing game early on. Considering how consistently annoyed I got with this, however, that alone makes me recommend you at least read Ghosts of Onyx before Glasslands – save yourself the utter confusion (confusion? Confusion! Oh, it's been too long since I've used you, Confusion meme. I missed you so).

The other plots in the novel, however, were pretty independent from any Ghosts of Onyx storylines. The main one, of course, is the one featuring Serin Osman and her Kilo-Five team. I guess this is mainly where Traviss got her whole, “This isn't a sequel as you would know it” thing, even if she also had to make this one slightly confusing by starting off with two characters mourning someone who we've never seen and will never be mentioned again even though with the way it was written it seemed like it happened an hour before. But anyway.

Osman's plot was solid, but really, the same could be said for every story in Glasslands. Some of them can be a bit slow occasionally, but overall, ones like the Sangheili story are very solid. You may think a plotline centering solely on a Spartan who can't even speak any words sounds boring, and like I said... it's slow. But it's actually pulled off fairly well despite not having much to work with in the way of dialogue.

This is also because of how Traviss writes certain characters and internal monologues. It usually succeeds at keeping your attention, even if I've heard that in this particular case it's not the most accurate characterization in the world. Like I said, the only book I've read before this is Fall of Reach, so keep that in mind while I say this, but you really get the impression that Halsey is the scum of the universe that everyone despises. I mean, damn. The hate was endless. I've heard from certain people that that's far from the case in the other Halo books, but I definitely wouldn't have been able to guess that from reading Glasslands alone, so that's just another reason to make sure this isn't the first Halo book you read, or even the second like myself (unless the first happens to be Ghosts of Onyx).

Would I recommend Glasslands? Well, that's not such a simple question, because it really depends on the reader. If you're a fan of the Halo books and have read them all up to this one – I've said it before and I'll say it again, at LEAST Ghosts of Onyx – then sure, because it really was solid and worth reading. I'd give even more of a recommendation if you meet that prerequisite and are already a fan of Traviss's work. But if you're neither of those things – if you've never touched a Halo novel in your life and have no idea who Karen Traviss is, or, worse yet, hate her after, oh I don't know, something like KILLING MARA JADE. Ahem. But I'm getting off topic – then do yourself the favor and don't waste the time it'll take to read this fairly lengthy book. For an irritating amount of time you'll have no clue as to what the hell is going on, and you'll just find yourself ticked off at the shameless sequel bait that is the ending with no real conclusion to any of the plotlines. No, for that, you'll have to shell out $15 once the sequel comes out, folks.

You can see more of guest reviewer Opal Skoien's content at www.MiBreviews.com.

"First Grave on the Right" by Darynda Jones-- ADD in Book Form

Charlotte "Charley" Davidson is twenty-seven year old P.I. who also happens to be a grim reaper. She lives between the planes of the living and the dead and escorts the dead to the hereafter. Charley doesn't know if she is "the" grim reaper because there has never been anyone around to show her the ropes-- how she even knows she should be called a grim reaper is a question that is never even answered, but I'll get back to that later.



Charley has been conversing with the dead since childhood and her abilities have been very useful for her father, a retired cop, and her uncle, who still works as a detective for the Albuquerque Police Department. Charley works as a consultant for the APD and that allows her to tie up lose ends for ghosts looking to avenge their own murders. First Grave on the Right takes up the story of three murdered lawyers who were close to exonerating a man convicted of murder.



But the motive for the murder of the three lawyers isn't the only mystery Charley is trying to solve. Charley has been receiving midnight visits from a very sexy entity that may also be the creature she calls the "Big Bad" who has been protecting her, in a very scary fashion, her whole life.



Darynda Jones opens each chapter of "First Grave on the Right" with a quote from a bumper-sticker or a T-shirt and they frequently reference the ADD of the main character; and Charley does exhibit some attention deficit traits-- but none so strong as the author herself. Overall the story arc of Charley Davidson is a good one. The action in "Fist Grave on the Right" makes sense in that it follows a logical narrative instead of having Charley bounce from place-to-place for no apparent reason. The murder mystery that comprises the bulk of the story is also better-than-average because it doesn't take any great leaps in logic to buy into it.



The flaws in "First Grave to the Right" aren't about the story-- it's about how it's told. First off, Charley isn't just sarcastic-- she's a nonstop, joke-a-minute machine. There are times when the jokes are funny, but the gag is so overused that after a while I found myself rolling my eyes as often as I was chuckling. There is no inappropriate time to crack wise in Charley's world. The narrative tends to be as rapid fire as the jokes-- to the detriment of the structure and flow of the story. Characters are often jumbled together with overlapping dialog that makes it tough to understand who is saying what. Jones also has a tendency to "tell" rather than "show" in a way that really distracts from the story-- for example:



Price stood and picked up the camera. His stance was meant as a threat, meant to belittle and intimidate.



We're told that the character has a stance that is intimidating, but his posture is never described-- We're basically meant to take Charley's word for it and that doesn't work because a reader needs to be able to visualize the setting and writing like this makes it awfully hard.



Mostly "First Grave on the Right" suffers because there isn't enough attention to detail. There is the suggestion that Charley came to call herself the grim reaper for a reason and I expected that to play out as the book progressed-- only it didn't. How Charley came to think of herself as the grim reaper, or realize that she is meant to usher souls to their next life is never really clarified. If anything that whole part of the story gets more muddled as the story goes along and it's later revealed that Charley doesn't really know the extent of her abilities-- to which I say to the author, make up your mind or get a better editor.



Another frustrating thing about "First Grave on the Right" is the romantic interest. Charley has basically had a guardian angel, of sorts, showing up her whole life at significant moments and frequently saving her life (she almost gets killed a lot). Despite those life-saving moments Charley refers to him as the "Big Bad" because his heroic moments also tend to be fairly violent. But when Charley suspects the Big Bad might also be the entity who is visiting her in her sleep, and producing some very vivid sexual encounters, she doesn't waste too much time worrying about his violent nature. There's also a scene in which Charley is threatened in a sexual manner, supposedly to scare her into leaving a dangerous situation, and it's shrugged off as being a normal way of persuading a girl to do something-- a strange message to send in my opinion.



The crazy thing is that despite all the flaws, and there were a lot, I still managed to enjoy the book. Usually when I can pick apart a book to this extent I stop reading it (which is why I don't have a lot of one or two star reviews) but somehow I was entertained enough to finish this one and actually consider reading the next book in the series-- how do you rate something like that? Do I give it two stars for execution and four stars for enjoyment value and give it an average of a three star review? And can I possibly recommend something that I can criticize so much?



Honestly I don't think I can give "First Grave on the Right" a recommendation or a strong rating because it should have never gotten to print in such a sloppy manner. There are some fun aspects of the story and a lot of interesting ideas but I can't overlook the overall construction. Interestingly this book has garnered a lot of positive reviews on Amazon and Goodreads among paranormal fans, so I suppose I could recommend it to people who don't really give a darn about things like logic-- and apparently there are a lot of people who fit into that category. But for the audience of this site (whom I believe are more discerning *pats self on back*) I can only give this 2 1/2 out of 5 stars.

"The Scorpio Races" by Maggie Stiefvater-- Coming-of-Age With Killer Horses

There's something about coming-of-age stories featuring horses; my parents grew up with National Velvet while I have fond memories of The Black Stallion. And Maggie Stiefvater comes up with a genius combination in her coming-of-age fantasy that combines the rush of horse racing with her fantastic, yet terrible water horses known as the Capall Uisce (CAPple ISHka).



Set on the fictional island of Thisby The Scorpio Races centers around a race that takes place every November when the waters churn with the deadly Capall Uisce. The fictional sea horses, known for their man-killing hunger, are captured and raced two miles down the beach by riders willing to risk their lives for the money and glory that comes with winning. Sean Kendrick has won the race four times on the red Capall Uisce named Corr, a deadly creature he has formed an unlikely bond with; and his only dream is to win this race and finally have enough money to buy his beloved sea horse.



Kate Connolly, known as Puck to her friends, is an orphan who lives with her two brothers after the Connolly children lose their parents in the wild November waters to the hungry Capall Uisce. Puck loves the island of Thisby but her older brother Gabe finds it stifling and plans to leave for the mainland for a better life. Desperate for money, Puck hatches a plan to enter the Scorpio Races on Dove-- her very ordinary grey pony.



"The Scorpio Races" is a throw-back to the kind of fiction I grew up with. The setting is ambiguous but hearkens to a time before television, when entertainment was found mostly outdoors. Life on Thisby is simple for most, bordering on poverty for many, but the people there enjoy simple pleasures like going to the local pub-- and betting on the yearly race. It's the kind of place where everyone knows everyone else, or at least knows some gossip, and the only strangers are the ones who come in from the mainland for the annual spectacle.



Puck is fierce and ornery, but still subject to the sexism that declares women can't compete in the race. She must also battle the fear of riding on a mount that is scared to death of racing against a horde of animals that will try to kill them both.



Sean is an enigma. He carries a quiet magic of his own that enables him to handle the deadly Capall Uisce in a way that no one else can. At first he resents Puck's presence on the beach, but he comes to respect her nerve and the two of them form a strong bond as they train for the race-- one that could endanger them both.



"The Scorpio Races" has everything I look for in YA fantasy-- or in any story for that matter. Stiefvater is a heck of a storyteller. She takes her time with the characters and doesn't waste any energy on too much drama or angst. There are protagonists and antagonists in this story but rarely do we have to deal with stereotypes. If you're looking for dewy-eyed teenagers and a does he or doesn't he like me kind of story, then "The Scorpio Races" isn't for you. It's for people who love books that don't deal in flashy, gimmicky writing. There's magic, of sorts, with the Capall Uisce but it's subtle and only an addendum to the real heart of the story. I would say that "The Scorpio Races" is really about fighting for simple dreams and finding happiness in being true to yourself: not the most original of themes perhaps but satisfying in that it is done very well.



If I were to nit-pick a little, and that's what I'm here for, I would have to admit that the mythology of the Capall Uisce could have been more developed. All we really know is that they come from the sea, hungry and terrifying, and that they're unique to Thisby. They are clearly based on the old Celtic tales of the Kelpie but there are never any direct references to that mythology. It should also be noted that there is quite a bit of violence, mostly perpetrated by the Capall Uisce, and the blasé attitude those on the island have toward the increasingly high death toll is a bit unrealistic.



But the flaws don't really detract from the pure enjoyment that you get from "The Scorpio Races." The pacing is so great. There's genuine suspense during the final race and real satisfaction in following the journeys of Puck and Sean. My only regret in reading "The Scorpio Races" is that I didn't read it sooner so I could put it on my "Best Of" list for 2011.



4 and 1/2 out of 5 stars.

"The Last Stormlord" by Glenda Larke-- Great World Building, Weak Characters

In the four quarters of the Scarpen water is provided to the people by the Stormlord and the Rainlords who keep the land alive with their power over water. But the Stormlord is dying and there are no Rainlords strong enough to move the storms that bring water to the cities. The Rainlords decide to go on a desperate search for a new Stormlord, even venturing into the poorest quarters in hopes of finding a water sensitive strong enough to save their way of life.



Shale is a young man barely surviving among the waterless of the Gibber quarter. Shale doesn't tell his alcoholic father that he can sense deep pockets of water out in the desert because of a deep wariness among their people that mistrusts anyone that demonstrates any water sensitivity. So Shale hides from the Rainlords so his ability won't be discovered-- which leads to an opportunity for those who want to overthrow the rule of Stormlords to use Shale for their own mission to return the land to a time of random rain.



Terelle was born in the Gibber and started out life as one of the waterless, but she has come to dread the life she faces in the snuggery more than a life without a water allotment. As the day looms when she will be sold into her first night of prostitution Terelle desperately searches for a way out of her circumstances but her escape into a new life comes from an unexpected place. Terelle learns there's more to water magic than she ever knew and her destiny has been shaped for her in ways she could never have imagined as she gets caught up in a larger conspiracy that threatens to change the world forever.



The Last Stormlord is a return to the kind of fantasy I grew up with; a style that puts a strong emphasis on world building with a strong magical foundation. Larke does a fabulous job of creating a believable world with varying cultures. The details she includes regarding the way people dress, look and behave paints a vivid picture of the place the characters inhabit and that alone makes this a book worth mentioning. Likewise the magic, which is centered around the manipulation of water, is skillfully crafted with time spent on explaining how it works and why it is important. The most believable aspect of the story were the little things-- like the outrage over stepping in a mud puddle as a flagrant waste of water.



But when it came to characterizations "The Last Stormlord" didn't bring the same level of credibility that was brought to the setting. There is some attempt to put the characters into "good" and "bad" categories with some shades of grey, but mostly they got mired down in the usual stereotypes. The two main characters Terelle and Shale are, thankfully, fairly well done. Because we're allowed to follow their progress from youth to young adulthood there is the opportunity to see the necessary growing pains of a character we're meant to empathize with. But rarely are we given the chance to bond with any other characters in a meaningful way. Most of the "good" guys are the kind of people who have been raised in circumstances of privilege and have little concept of hardship. When confronted with a bleak future they're quick to shore up their own circumstances as the expense of others-- and that aspect of the story is believable. But when obvious solutions are presented the characters display a level of obtuseness that's hard to get past. Some characters are allowed to ambiguously hover between good and bad but they are only ones credited with any intelligence while everyone else seems confused or insistent on taking the most illogical position available.



Certain threads of the story also have a kind of repetitious nature. For example: both Shale and Terelle take up apprenticeships without really trusting the motives of their mentors. Additionally all the romantic relationships seem founded more on overdone misunderstandings than any kind of natural progression.



Overall "The Last Stormlord" was a book I had to push myself to finish reading. The world-building is first rate and the detail oriented way Larke built her society was the main attraction for me. But the personalities of her characters fell flat. Their interactions sometimes felt forced and always hovered on the edge of being a cliché. I wanted to like the book enough to finish the whole series because there is some real quality in Larke's writing, but I never connected to the characters enough to want to invest in reading the full trilogy.



3 out of 5 stars.

"Touch of Power" by Maria V. Snyder-- Fun but Simplistic

Avry of Kazan has lived the last three years in hiding thanks to the belief that healers like herself are responsible for the plague that has ravaged the Fifteen Kingdoms. With her healing talent comes a compulsion to heal the sick and Avry has barely been able to stay ahead of those who would collect the bounty for her capture as she fights an irresistible urge to heal sick children wherever she goes.



But Avry faces an unexpected fate when she is kidnapped so she can heal a plague stricken prince-- one that Avry fears will destroy the fragile peace that currently exists within the Kingdoms.



Avry soon finds she is trapped between two unattractive options. She can either agree to heal the prince, and die in the effort, or she can try to stay ahead of the band of mercenaries that are now on her trail. Avry's choice becomes increasingly complicated as she learns more about the political machinations that led to her capture and her feelings grow for the leader of the group of men who hold her captive.



Touch of Power is an exceptionally readable book. It zips along at a brisk pace with a good mix of adventure and inventiveness to keep it interesting. But I have to admit to being a little disappointed overall. I haven't read a book by Snyder in awhile, the last being "Poison Study," but I remember enjoying the story and thinking it had a well developed mythology. And in some respects "Touch of Power" has some of the same elements but only in a sketchy fashion.



Avry is the only character that is given any kind of a substantial history-- even her love interest is more of a set of characteristics than a well developed person with a fully realized history. Mostly the characters are presented in quips of dialog that make them likable but rarely elevates them beyond the roles they are meant to fulfill. Avry comes to love and respect her companions and there are plenty of sweet moments along the way, but I never felt a real personality was assigned to more than one or two characters.



But the most curious thing to me was the lack of detail to the world presented in "Touch of Power." Much of the story takes place in the forest but the sense of atmosphere that seems inherent to the setting is lacking. The descriptions consist of little more than the occasional pile of leaves or rocks. As the book progressed I found myself paying attention to how much detail was present and realized that I couldn't visualize the setting. On the whole I felt like there was a pervasive feeling of superficiality to the book that kept me from really connecting to the story.



Yet.. For all my critiques "Touch of Power" is a very entertaining book. It's clear that Snyder's strength lies in her ability to hit the right emotional chords to move the story. There's conflict-- but not in excruciating abundance-- and the resolutions follow a satisfying, if predictable, path. There are some bits of mystery and a nice dose of magic that give it a sense of originality. I feel like it's structured to appeal to female readers who can tap into the emotional content while leaving out the logic and detail that would draw in a wider audience-- which left me with a sense of enjoyment, but not fulfillment.



3 out of 5 stars.