Hunter’s Run
Ramón Espejo isn’t the kind of character I usually take to. He’s gritty, foul-mouthed, uneducated, and violent. But I liked him. And I liked the way he figures out who he is and what makes life worth living for him.
The world is rich in detail, the aliens true aliens–in thought as well as look, and the plot both surprising and inevitable. A great story. Not quite good enough to make my keeper shelf, but excellent nonetheless.
The Bad Beginning
This is the start of Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events, and I get why the series has become so popular. This light hearted romp through some of life’s thornier problems has well-drawn characters; fast-moving and believable (if not quite realistic) adventure; and a personable (if patronizing) narrator of the first waters. Mr. Snicket, clearly a character himself, might not be the kind of person I’d want to live with, but he’s exactly the kind of person I want telling me stories.
Which is what he’s done in this delightful little book. I’ll have to see if K likes it. It may not be deep, but it’s a step up from Glitter Beach.
Flask of the Drunken Master
Susan Spann’s Shinobi Mystery series is great fun. I love that it locates me firmly in a place and time in history that I know little about. What’s even better is that it does this in a way that keeps a pretty puzzle and interesting people at the heart of the story.
In this particular book, Hiro and Father Mateo must prove the innocence of a brewer they know (Hiro owes him a favor) before the man is punished for murdering a competitor. It’s a complicated little problem, set in a destabilized Kyoto (a situation which brings its own complexities), and the strain of navigating these troubling waters reveals some fault lines–or at least pressure points–in Hiro and Father Mateo’s relationship. The descriptions are rich, the writing well-done. It was a great pleasure to read, and I’ll be picking up Susan Spann’s next book when I can.
2,000 to 10,000: How to write faster, write better, and write more of what you love
I read this after it was recommended by one of the other members of my critique group (Kendrick E. Knight, who writes delightful science fiction available on amazon). I couldn’t claim to be writing anything like 2,000 words to start with and was interested in seeing how this woman increased her productivity so impressively.
One of the things I most appreciated about Ms. Aaron’s book was that instead of saying “do it this way,” she suggests that writers figure out what works for them and then do that. Lots of authors are productive in the mornings (she’s not); others do well late at night. Some need quiet; some need music. Some write most fluidly in coffee shops; others need to be alone and unplugged. Ms. Aaron suggests keeping track of some hard data for a period of time, and then using that data to empirically figure out what works–for you. Because it might not be the same thing that works for her, or a critique partner or the leader of a writing workshop.
I’m not as sure about some of the other advice in this book For example, Ms. Aaron insists that planning at least a bit before writing something in full speeds up the process. I’ve tried it a few times, and am not convinced. She also insists that speeding things up doesn’t reduce the quality of her writing at all, but there’s a certain lack of polish to her book that makes me think she might be fooling herself on this point.
On the whole, though, I feel 2,000-10,000 was well worth the couple of bucks and couple of hours I spent on it. It has made me think about what works for me, and that has increased my output, if only marginally.
Dust
Dust is the third book in Hugh Howie’s Silo series, and while it continues to have the detailed world-building, interesting characters (Juliet and Donald are both fascinating), and suspenseful, fast-paced plot of the first two, I found myself less invested in this one. I spent much of the book with the nagging feeling that something was missing–important bits of the complicated groundwork laid in the first two books dropped away, leaving a much less complicated dystopia, with loose threads (characters, bits of the conspiracy) left hanging to unravel or chafe, so that the (admittedly satisfying) ending felt too easy. Perhaps another book in this world will come and pick up the dropped threads–or perhaps I’m too picky.
Nonetheless, this was fun, and I’d probably pick up another Hugh Howie book, even in this series, if the occasion arose.
The Daemon Prism
I picked up my first Carol Berg book after hearing one of her amazing workshops on world-building (or was it revision?) at one of RMFW’s Colorado Gold conferences. That was The Spirit Lens, the first in the series that finished off with this one I’ve just read.
The series follows a librarian/failed magician, a magic skeptic and an unorthodox mage as they unravel conspiracies and legends that threaten their kingdom, their world, and even the afterlife. In this particular book, Dante, the mage left disabled after his fight with the forces of evil at the end of book two (The Soul Mirror), discovers that his enemies are not quite so defeated as he thought, and righting what is wrong requires facing his own past, his own demons.
As I expected from work by an author with so much good stuff to say about revision and world-building, this series boasts finely polished prose and a richly textured world. The characters are well-rounded, interestingly flawed, and sympathetic. I’m rooting for them all through their intricately plotted quest to save the world. The books don’t quite make my all-time-favorite, reread again and again shelf (I can’t quite put my finger on why), but they’re thoroughly enjoyable, and I’ll certainly pick up more Carol Berg books in the future.
Robert’s Rules of Writing
I picked this book of short essays (tips) on writing in a thrift store because the price was right, but I knew I’d enjoy it when the very first rule was “Burn your Journal.” Though plenty of writers I know find journals helpful, I’ve never been able to keep one, being too busy writing stories I might want to read again later.
Apart from the journal rule, there wasn’t much in Masello’s list of pithy hints that I hadn’t heard already (often multiple times), but there were lots of good reminders–make heroes fallible and give villains good points; polish writing up, but don’t hang onto it forever . . .. There was also the occasional gem I hadn’t heard before, but thought might be worth a try (don’t be afraid to try a new genre or length–mixing it up can improve writing overall, and may lead to a new strength).
At any rate, as a book on writing, this one struck me as more helpful than most. Maybe all that means is that my writing process approximates Robert Masello’s more than it approximates Stephen King’s or Annie Dillard’s (or the processes of several other writers whose names I cannot now remember). Or maybe it means Mr. Masello has better or more accessible advice. At any rate, I think I’ll hang onto this book for a while. I find it useful to occasionally remind myself of writing best practices (or at least, best practices for me).
Homework: A Parent’s Guide to Helping Out without Freaking Out
The kids’ school gave each family one of these books back at the start of the school year, and I’ve been meaning to read my copy for months now. Finally got it done. I don’t know why it took me so long, given the extraordinarily simple language, short, snappy, well-titled sections, and quick chapter overviews.
I guess I just don’t like non-fiction, especially of the self-help variety. And this book doesn’t manage to be very entertaining or interesting.
I’m not saying it’s a bad book. The advice is fine. (Work on what you can change directly–your attitudes and parenting style–rather than what you can’t–your child) There are a one or two minor points I disagree with (Dr. McNerney doesn’t want parents to check homework for accuracy and make kids redo mistakes because he thinks teachers want to see the mistakes kids are making–I think that teachers can get this from places other than homework, and that it is invaluable for children to correct their own mistakes, particularly in math and the editing side of writing.) However, for the most part, the advice given is either helpful or unobjectionable. It’s not going to change my life, but it has helped me remember that unless my children are being defiant, we’ll all do better if I consult or encourage rather than boss them.
I’m not sure that’s enough of an insight to warrant a whole book. Maybe if I were having more trouble with my kids and homework, I’d find this more helpful. But maybe the book, short and simple though it is, could stand to be shorter and simpler yet. It would make a fine pamphlet.
A pamphlet I might have read the day I got it.
The Deluxe Transitive Vampire
This, believe it or not, is a book on English grammar. (It’s subtitled The Ultimate Handbook of Grammar for the Innocent, the Eager, and the Doomed.) As such, it’s a lucid explanation of parts of speech and basic syntax, with entertaining examples, whimsical illustrations, and a vivid (if somewhat bossy) voice.
Even so, I found my interest flagging about two-thirds of the way through. I guess that even for a grammar nerd like me, the topic is more of something I look up when I have questions than something I want to read about. Still, this book is a valiant effort to make a dry subject live, and I may keep the book around for those times when I get asked grammar questions and can’t think of any examples at all, let alone ones that might shed light on the subject.
Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
My kids and I have been reading through the Harry Potters together for several months, and have just finished number five. We started this set because the kids are getting pressure from classmates to read and discuss the books, but I don’t want my two reading them on their own yet. This is the compromise we came up with.
Reading these aloud, I notice things I didn’t when reading them to myself–unfortunate things like awkward dialogue tags and the overuse of adverbs. But the story is just as brilliant, the world just as rich, the characters just as complex and finely drawn, and the humor just as delightful. And the experience is more meaningful when I read with my kids.
I love the way we get to the end of a section and they beg for more. I love the conversations that get started around the dinner table about what good families are like and who to trust and how to make good choices and how the world isn’t divided into good people and Death Eaters–that evil can take many forms and faces, some of which initially appear to be good. I love the way the kids get inspired to create their own worlds as they emerge from this one.
I’ve always loved these books. I love them even more now that my family is experiencing them together.
