Dead Houseplants

Canadian Book Week: Philip Roy's Submarine Outlaw series

2012-02-20T13:59:00.000-08:00

I haven't forgotten about Canadian books! I review them regularly for CM Magazine (a very useful reference if you're looking for Canadian children's books), and occasionally the books they send me get me very excited. That's the case with the Submarine Outlaw books. I was first sent River Odyssey, the third book in the series, and I just finished Ghosts of the Pacific, the fourth book, and now I want to get the first two books, because these are great stories! They might be difficult to find; I'm not even sure they're available in the States, but they're worth searching out, particularly if you're looking for books for boys.

The Submarine Outlaw series has an original and appealing central concept: young Alfred pilots his unregistered submarine wherever he likes, with a seagull for a first mate and a dog for a second. He gets into trouble because he can’t resist rescuing people (and animals) and so is always barely evading capture by the authorities, who will take his submarine away from him. Thus Alfred is firmly a good guy and yet still an outlaw—an irresistible combination!

In River Odyssey, the third book of the series, Alfred is given a quest by his spiritual mentor: he needs to find the father who abandoned him as a baby. Unwillingly he puts off his planned journey to the Pacific and instead journeys from Newfoundland up the St Lawrence River to Montreal. Along the way he finds people to rescue and dangers (including police) to evade.

In Ghosts of the Pacific, Alfred sails from Newfoundland through the Northwest Passage to the Pacific Ocean. He encounters polar bears and gets trapped in the ice. In the Pacific he gets shot at by a shrimp trawler when he cuts their net to release trapped turtles and dolphins. He rides out a storm, meets a floating circus and sails into a sea of plastic garbage the size of Texas. He visits the Bikini Atoll and dives to see the ships sunk by nuclear testing. Then he ends up on the island of Saipan, where he hides in an underwater cave during a typhoon and discovers the skeletons of Japanese soldiers. Alfred considers an offer to join the circus, but decides he’s not finished sailing alone yet. There will be a sequel!

I think these would be great books for reluctant readers. The language is clear and simple, the plot is full of exciting episodes--and come on: submarines! I usually veer towards fantasy (you may have noticed!), but I found these books completely engaging. Plus I learned stuff!

Debate on Piracy and Copyright is more than 100 years old

2012-02-09T09:12:00.001-08:00

David Malki, author of the webcomic Wondermark, has been reading old newspapers and discovering that issues of intellectual property rights have been thorny and contentious from the beginning. He's doing a series of blog entries presenting arguments from newspapers of the late 1800s and comparing them to current arguments. Turns out the internet hasn't really changed the name of the game! It's worth a read; I find it fascinating.

He makes a point that I think is the most pertinent in all the discussions:

So, in a world where piracy exists, my task as an author is to make the legitimate consumption of my work the path of least resistance.

Hear, hear! (Creators of Leverage and White Collar, are you listening? Please allow me to purchase your latest seasons in Canada!)

(Note that this is the second time a tweet may have been more appropriate than a blog entry. I'm keeping track. Maybe if it happens again I'll consider using my Twitter account.)

Compulsive Re-Reading, or why I never get around to blogging

2012-02-08T15:52:00.000-08:00

Book Aunt had a post around Christmas time asking if people had books they liked to reread over holidays, and that post inspired this one. I don't limit re-reading to holidays curled up by the fire. I re-read books all the time.

When I started to think about the books I choose to read over and over again, I thought I'd try to analyze what made me want to experience them multiple times. The word "experience" is the key: what sort of experiences do books offer that can be enjoyed even when you already know what happens? Here are a few of my thoughts, with examples from the books that I love to re-read (I've linked to descriptions of the books, in case my vague references don't make them immediately obvious!)

Coniston Water, Lake District
(could be Narnia, couldn't it!)

The experience of place: otherwise known as the Narnia effect. I must have read the Chronicles of Narnia at least once a year for most of my childhood and adolescence. I so badly wanted to go to Narnia, and reading the books was the only way to get there. (Okay, I still want to go! When I read them now, it amazes me how few words Lewis needs to create such a compelling world.) There are a number of fantasy worlds that I enjoy spending time in: Lyra's world; Earthsea; Ancelstierre; Damar, or any of Robin McKinley's other worlds; Discworld; Hogwarts. But I also love to go to Arthur Ransome's Lake District (I finally did a few years ago; it was just as he had described it), or to the nostalgic England of E. Nesbit's children, or to The Secret Garden. I do love places with cool magical systems and creatures, but even if a place is perfectly realistic, if the author loves it then I want to keep coming back to it.

Please tell me you know this
is Anne of Green Gables

The experience of people: there are some characters I wish were my real friends, and some that I'm glad aren't real but they're a lot of fun to hang around with! Elisabeth Bennett, Anne of Green Gables, Jane Eyre, Sara Crewe, Vicky Austen, Meg and Charles Wallace, Tiffany Aching, Sophie and Wizard Howl, Ender Wiggins, Vidanrik Renselaeus, Marquis of Shevraeth (I haven't re-read him yet since I just discovered him, but I will!), Miles Vorkosigan, Thursday Next . . . I've got another bookshelf upstairs I could check, but this is a pretty good list! These characters are not like me: they are clever and brave and spunky, and these qualities get them into as much trouble as they get them out of. I wish I could be them, but I'd settle for being their sidekick!

The experience of drama: once you know how it ends you don't get to feel the suspense again (unless you have as bad a memory as I do, in which case sometimes you can!), but those dramatic moments are worth reliving. Sometimes I skip through books just to get to the good parts.
Elizabeth rejecting Darcy's proposal;
Jane choosing to leave Rochester;
Eugenides noticing Attolia's earrings;
Edward kissing Bella for the first time (not the 247th time; it does get old!);
Lyra finding Roger clutching the dead fish because his daemon is gone;
Katsa throwing that knife at the end;

If you don't mind reliving the best
use of a swear word in literature,
this is quite funny

Harry returning to Corlath after disobeying a direct order and riding off to save the kingdom;
Molly Weasley facing Bellatrix.
Scenes that twist your heart, scenes that make you jump up and yell "Yes!" Little guys facing down big guys; difficult truths being spoken; noble sacrifices being made. Like the taste of homemade bread or the smell of roses, the emotional intensity of these moments is necessary to my well-being. I love drama more than I love sleep, which is saying a lot!

The experience of voice: I will read anything written by my favourite authors, because I love listening to them talk. They could be talking about walking their dog and picking up the dry-cleaning; it's not the content, it's the way the words are strung together. Part of it is facility with language: I opened up I Shall Wear Midnight at random and here's a sentence:

It was a nervous statement with a wiry little question clinging to the end of it, waiting to burst into tears.

Here's a random Laini Taylor sentence:

They laughed alike and moved alike, and they thought the same thoughts as completely as if a butterfly traveled back and forth between their minds, bearing ideas on its legs like pollen.

Sentences like these make me happy. With some authors it's not so much individual sentences as the way sentences and paragraphs all build on each other, layer upon layer of meaning: Connie Willis is brilliant at this; so is Patricia McKillip. Nothing extraneous, everything necessary. Craft, is what it is, using words as tools.

But voice is more than just excellent writing; it's also the mind behind the writing. I can enjoy a book with an exciting plot and interesting characters and competent prose, but if there isn't some fundamental idea behind it all that resonates with me, I won't read it again. Authors I re-read have a strong world view, a sense of right and wrong, an appreciation of what is beautiful and just. They may be lyrical, they may be funny, but they all have a certain fierceness: they have written the truth and they know it. (I don't mean that the author is opinionated or, heaven forbid, preachy; in fact often the authors don't know that they've written truth, or what truth they've written. But their voice knows.) I don't have to agree with their world view, but they have to believe in it, and then it comes through in their voice and then I have confidence in their story and want to be carried along in it.

I also only re-read books with happy endings, so I guarantee that in all the books linked to in this post the girl will get the guy, the evil whatsits will be defeated, the loner/outcast with no talent will have found his/her place in the world and humanity will have proved itself redeemable, if only just. (Is that why most of my re-reading happens to be fantasy? No! I firmly believe happy endings happen in real life too! I do.)

Books I got for Christmas

2012-01-09T20:45:00.000-08:00

Or, rather, books I gave myself for Christmas. It's one of my favourite Christmas treats, the trip to the bookstore where I'm allowed to buy whatever I want! Some of the books get wrapped and labeled with my children's names, but we all know who they're really for!

This year I snapped up the first YA offering from Jasper Fforde, who I rank up there with Douglas Adams and Terry Pratchett in the absurd British fantasy category. (And I discovered there's another book in his Thursday Next series that I haven't read. Now I get to reread them all and then I get to read the new one!)

The Last Dragonslayer is trademark Fforde, but with a simpler plot: it isn't as completely brilliant and subversive as The Eyre Affair, but it's a lot of fun. Quirky characters with silly names, magic that gets flummoxed by the idiocy of modern life, a practical orphan who takes care of everyone and then finds out she has to save the world (and appear on talk shows). And a Quarkbeast. And a dragon. Whose immanent death causes a crazy real-estate rush. It's excellent fun, and maybe just a little bit satirical (a teensy wee bit!). Like a really good chocolate chip cookie with Smarties in it. (Not that Smarties are very satirical. But they're fun.)

This one I wrapped up with my son's name on it, because he's read the first three of Kazu Kibuishi's Amulet books, and was devastated by the cliffhanger ending of book three. I'm now rereading the first three, so I haven't cracked Book 4, The Last Council, but it looks every bit as gorgeous as the others. These are beautiful graphic novels with a compelling storyline and a stunning alternate world. I was pulled right in from the opening sequence of Book One: The Stonekeeper. (I deliberately didn't link you to Amazon or Goodreads or anywhere with a blurb about Book 1, because they all give away what happens at the beginning (I know it doesn't count as a spoiler if the book opens with it, but it still spoils the opening scene, I think. Consider yourself warned!)).

After the really good opening scene which I will not ruin for you, Emily and Navin move out to their great-grandfather's old, spooky house, and Emily finds an amulet in the attic. It's when they venture into the basement that the real adventure begins, with a spectacular two-page spread of the staircase winding down, down, down. I love the beautiful and terrifying world they discover. I love Emily and her struggle to do right by her family even when she's being pulled in heroic directions; I love Navin who wants to prove himself and then gets way more of an opportunity than he was expecting. I'm excited to see what new magical places and people we'll get to see in the fourth book. Because so much of the appeal is visual for me, I can't seem to come up with a food metaphor; music is better. (Am I being slightly synesthesic about this?). The Amulet books are like the classical composer Saint Saens (and this).

I have to interrupt this blog post, because while I was on Goodreads I came across a link to Hyperbole and a Half, and I've now spent two hours laughing out loud reading her posts. She's a little twisted and very perceptive and has this way of describing things, and these hilarious kid-drawing pictures. My mom probably won't like her (she does swear a lot)(the blog author, not my mom!), but if you like your humour dark and offbeat, check it out. The first post I read was a rather brilliant summary of clinical depression. Then I tried How A Fish Almost Destroyed My Childhood. Also be sure to read A Better Pain Scale and The Alot. (The picture comes from Am Adult, also hilarious.)

We now return to this blog post, which is now too long, so I'll have to make it To Be Continued . . .

Sharon Shinn, The Safe-Keeper's Secret

2011-12-17T22:39:00.000-08:00

I picked this book up in a random library browse. Sharon Shinn's name rang a bell with me, but at the time I couldn't place why. The cover wasn't striking, but the concept seemed interesting, so I took the book home. (Have I mentioned that I love libraries?)

It turns out that I've read some of Sharon Shinn's adult books and really enjoyed them. Her Samaria novels read like fantasy but have a sci fi explanation in the end (which I won't give away): it's a non-technological society with angels to rule over and protect them. In Archangel, Rachel is chosen to be the bride of Gabriel the archangel, but she's not happy about it. There's reluctant romance, dangerous politics, Old-Testament-like mythology (in case the names didn't give it away), singing, and magic that's really science but everyone's forgotten. A good read, and now I want to go back and read the Samaria novels I missed.

The Safe-Keeper's Secret isn't anything like the Samaria books. Set in a small English-like village in some non-modern time period, it's a quiet story about people with the gifts of keeping secrets, telling the truth, and granting dreams. I love that secret-keeping and truth-telling are magical powers. The story opens with a child being delivered to the village Safe-keeper, the woman who will keep whatever secret she is told, and the child's identity is a secret she keeps for most of the novel. She raises the child with her own as if they were siblings. The story follows Fiona and Reed's coming of age and discovery of who they really are.

I loved this book, and I'm still not sure exactly why. It's not exciting, there's no great peril, no important quest, not a lot of action of any kind, really. For a while I couldn't figure out who the antagonist was. Almost every character is caring and nice, and just about everyone loves Reed and Fiona. I think I liked the book so much because I cared so much about the characters. They were all individuals with their own sorrows and dreams, however small, and I wanted them all to find their place in the world and I cheered when they did. I think, in the end, the antagonist is the secret: the truth about who Fiona and Reed really are that changes everything when it's revealed. But the story is subtle--there isn't burning suspense all the way through. Fiona and Reed don't particularly care that they don't know who their parents are. Except that they do, of course, and that niggling question really does propel the plot as they each struggle to fit where they think they belong.

I feel like I'm not selling this book as strongly as I want to. It's deftly written and a pleasure to read and it deals with all the important parts of life: who we love and what we want to be and telling the truth when the right time comes. There are lovely bits of symbolism woven all through, and it just, well, it just made me happy. It's a little jewel, well worth an afternoon of your time.

Octavia Butler and Daughter of Smoke and Bone

2011-11-13T22:30:00.001-08:00

It occurred to me that I might blog more often if I didn't spend three hours writing a blog entry. That last one could have been three posts, couldn't it? Hmm. In the meantime, the writing is still happening, slowly. It feels rather like getting ketchup out of the bottle. I'm hoping for the sudden blurp when way too much ketchup ends up on your hamburger, but I'm still waiting. Like in the Heinz commercials. (It doesn't help that I checked on my geography today and discovered that a key plot point is impossible. (And this is geography I'm intimately familiar with, so I don't know why I came up with that plot idea in the first place.) The story is set in the future, though, so maybe I'm going to have to give Vancouver that earthquake that we're all waiting for and alter the geography so my plot still works. I love fiction.)

I know I mentioned Laini Taylor's newest a few weeks ago, and I've been meaning to blog about it, but I want to do it justice and I haven't felt like I could devote the time required. Which is stupid, because it means I'm not blogging about it at all.

But first I have to mention an adult science fiction writer I just discovered: Octavia Butler. I borrowed her novel Fledgling from a friend of mine. What a great title. (And I love the cover.) What an interesting, interesting book. This is a novel about vampires that you should not read if you generally like vampire novels. Intellectual is not quite the right word, but it's close. What if vampires didn't kill people; what if they entered into symbiotic relationships with them, relationships of love and trust in which the humans get whatever they want, but the vampires have all the control. Would that be okay? I found it fascinating how Butler kept my sympathy with the narrator: the young vampire does things that would be reprehensible if a human were to do them, but she does them within her own moral and ethical code, so they feel right. And the fact that they feel right feels seriously creepy. Fledgling has a plot with its own suspense, but to me the page-turning aspect wasn't what was going to happen next, it was what will I agree with next. Deliciously interesting. Like sushi.

Okay, Daughter of Smoke and Bone, by Laini Taylor. It hardly needs my endorsement, since it's made all kinds of Best Books lists and everyone is raving about it, but I'll continue my Laini Taylor fandom and say you have to go read this book. It has everything I like about Taylor's writing: lush prose, dense with colorful detail, incredibly imaginative world-building, traditional mythologies mined for their deepest gems and then turned into something entirely new (angels and devils, yes, but these are not the angels and devils anyone else is writing about). My favorite thing about this novel? It's set in Prague, the most beautiful, evocative, artistic city I've ever visited. I also loved Karou's best friend the puppeteer. And the shop with doors that open in places around the world. Best use of teeth in a fantasy. I could go on, but I don't need to. I was thinking I'd compare it to a Czech dish, something desserty you'd eat with coffee in the afternoon: maybe apple strudel or blueberry dumplings. I only hope that the success of this series (yeah, cliffhanger ending: there'd better be another book coming!) allows her to get back to the Dreamdark books.

Books I'm Grateful for

2011-11-10T01:19:00.000-08:00

I just finished Beth Revis' book Across the Universe, and as I usually do when I finish a good book and don't want to let go, I went to her website. Good news: the next book is coming out in January! Also good news: Beth Revis has a terrific blog. She has a contest going that I thought was a great idea (even though the Canadian Thanksgiving is over!): Give Thanks for Good Books.

What books should I give thanks for? Beth already used Narnia, so ditto. I have to mention everything by Madeleine L'Engle, particularly A Ring of Endless Light, for getting me through an awkward adolescence. Jane Eyre and Pride and Prejudice, of course. Oh, I can't leave out M.M. Kaye's Far Pavilions (I reread it a few years ago, and I have to admit I liked the Far Pavilions in my head better: it was still epic and sweeping and tragic and romantic and exotic, just not quite as much as I remembered it. But I was fourteen when I read it, so that explains a lot.)

But before I go on and on nostalgically, I think I'd like this post to be about books being written now. I'm grateful that people are writing books that are unique, quirky, crazy weird, or just thoughtful. Books that take you out of your head and then put you back in at a slightly different angle. Here are a few I've read recently:

There is No Dog, by Meg Rosoff. This is an author who definitely does her own thing; I dare anyone to try to categorize her books. They're not even like each other, except insofar as they are all brilliantly written and make you laugh and cry and go "huh." (Her titles are all great, too.) This one starts with the intriguing (and potentially blasphemous) premise that God is really a sex-crazed teenaged boy named Bob. If it was only about Bob and his attempts to make it with Lucy, the latest human he's fallen in love with, it might have become tiresome. But it's also about Lucy, the assistant zookeeper who loses a capybara, and about Lucy's mother, and Lucy's mother's priest, and it's about Mr. B, Bob's longsuffering assistant, who tries to keep up with all the prayers and mitigate Bob's various disasters, and Bob's floozy of a mother, who won Earth for him in a poker game, and the last Eck, Bob's pet, who is in danger of getting eaten and is rather sad about it. Normally I don't like novels that jump around between every character's point of view, but I liked all of these characters, with their flaws and needs and worries. I liked the way everything fell apart only to come together in unexpected ways. I loved the whales. (Fairly certain they're a nod to Douglas Adams, whose worthy successor Meg Rosoff could be (except not quite, because she isn't like him either).)This is not a blasphemous book: it's a funny, honest, touching and surreal exploration of what a God might be, and how one might still have faith despite how messed up everything is. This book was dense and sweet and full of flavours both familiar and unusual, rather like the sweet potato cake I made last week.

Vampire High, by Douglas Rees. I picked this book up from the librarian's Recommended shelf and loved the cover art. I assumed it would be a humorous take on the teen vampire thing (just making the protagonist a human guy already turns the stereotypes upside-down). It is, but it is so much more. I would almost go so far as to say it's a fable about outsiders and belonging, but then you might think it's preachy, which it isn't. It could just be a funny story about a kid who really doesn't fit in: Cody doesn't realize at first that almost everyone at his new school is a vampire. These aren't scary vampires, though (well, maybe some of them are, a little); they're just trying to fit into society--and here's where the book becomes brilliant. I loved that the vampires call themselves jenti and non-vampires gadje; I loved the sly pokes at bureaucracy everywhere; I loved Cody's dogged bravery; I loved the ridiculous assignments the teachers give the jenti that they don't expect the gadje to do, and I loved Cody's attempts to complete them; I loved that the divide between jenti and gadje is everyone's and no one's fault and that Cody unintentionally upsets the status quo by doing the right thing. This book is crunchy and salty and fun, like peanut butter and jelly on toast.

A Monster Calls, by Patrick Ness, inspired by Siobhan Dowd. You remember Patrick Ness, from Chaos Walking? I don't really need to say anything more, (and this blog post is getting too long, and I couldn't possibly do it justice anyway). Just go find this book. The illustrations are stunning, the story is strange, funny, powerful, and beautiful. You will cry. It will be cathartic. The concept is unique and yet feels inevitable, like a folk tale. The monster that shows up outside Conor's window is terrifying, but Conor isn't afraid of it because the monster from his nightmares is far more frightening. This is a fantasy book that's so realistic it tears your heart out. I'm going to compare this to the yak steak I had at a fancy restaurant once: beefy and tender with a sauce that hits all the ancient receptors in the brain.

Guess I should give a writing update: day 10, and I've written 9 1/2 pages. Not a whole lot, but I've done a bit every day, so I'm meeting my goal.

Canadian Book Week: Kenneth Oppel

2011-11-03T15:23:00.000-07:00

It's day three of Novel Writing Month, and so far so good: I have written something every day. Not much (I'm at about 4 pages longhand), but I'm getting to know my characters and setting and getting closer to figuring out my plot. (I think.)

This blog post has been sitting half-finished for weeks, now, so I figured I could procrastinate today's writing and finish it.

I have not forgotten my promise to focus on a Canadian author once a month, and this month it just has to be Kenneth Oppel, because his latest book has just come out, and it's awesome!

That is an amazing cover, is it not? It gives you setting, mood, character; it reaches out and sucks you in; it promises you will be transported into the world beyond the keyhole. But really, all you have to read is the subtitle and you know you have to read this book. I mean, "The Apprentiship of Victor Frankenstein": how audacious is that?

But if anyone can tell a convincing story about fiction's most famous monster-maker, it's Kenneth Oppel. He's a versatile writer with a sure sense of story. He's written picture books, early readers, middle-grade and YA novels, all with strong characters and lots of action but also thematic depth and real emotion.

Does This Dark Endeavor live up to its cover? Yes. I had my reservations, because I wasn't sure I would like the character of Victor, but by the end of the novel I was convinced. If you have any interest in the Frankenstein story, if you love secret libraries and alchemy and finding impossible ingredients for the elixir of life, (and who doesn't?) then you have to read this book.

The Silverwing trilogy could be thought of as a middle-grade Watership Down, starring bats. It has animals that behave like animals, a mythology that makes sense and resonates with the story (Camazotz, the vampire bat-god, and an underworld, and possible apocalypse), and a very cool bat super-power that allows Shade to save the day more than once. I'm making it sound more like fantasy than it is: most of the adventures are real-world/real-bat encounters with owls and humans and big nasty bats and suchlike. But the fantasy elements add that extra zing. I haven't read them in a while, but these are books I reread happily because there's so much to them. A good choice for boy readers. I haven't read Guardians of Ga'hoole, but I'm betting if you liked those books you'll like these.

The Airborn series is for slightly older readers, and the airships and goggles on the covers do not lie: this is classic steampunk: an alternative history in which zepplins become the transportation of choice. (To be perfectly correct, I'm not sure it is steampunk, because I think the airships are powered with combustion engines, but I don't really care.) This is great fun: adventure, romance, pirates, young man proving himself, hitherto undiscovered flying creatures, ghost ships, a ladder into space. All that good stuff. Fast-paced and imaginative with characters you really care about. Highly recommended.

I also have to mention Oppel's two picture books about Peg. Peg and the Whale and Peg and the Yeti are so cute and upbeat and Peg is such an awesome heroine. Every young girl should have these books on her shelf. (And note the illustrations for Peg and the Yeti: Barbara Reid is so cool!)

SIWC and The Kneebone Boy

2011-10-27T11:19:00.000-07:00

I spent a great weekend at the Surrey International Writers' Conference. Susan Juby was there, and she's just as personable in person as her writing would lead you to believe. Ivan Coyote gave a brilliant workshop called Bootcamp for Procrastinators, which was exactly what I needed to hear. Mary Robinette Kowal gave an inspiring keynote speech and a terribly useful workshop on what puppeteering taught her about writing. (I bought her book just so I could get her to sign it, and it was great: Jane Austen plus magic.) And I got my "This Day We Write!" t-shirt to remind me of Robert Dugoni's brilliant Lord of the Rings-inspired rallying cry. I highly recommend all of these authors, and if you are a writer I strongly recommend attending the SIWC next year. It's all kinds of inspiring, and fun, too.

I was almost convinced that I should sign up for National Novel Writing Month, in which one commits to writing 50 000 words in 30 days (seriously!), but having checked it out, I think it might be more distracting than inspiring. (And, let's face it, there's no way I could do it. I can't even write a blog twice a month!) So instead I am going to commit, here, in this most public and non-retractable way, to writing some words in my new novel every day in November. Even ten words counts. And I commit to recording here in the blog the number of words I write.

So I'd better get caught up on all the books I've been meaning to recommend, since I may not have any time left for blogging in November.

A long time ago I mentioned that The Kneebone Boy, by Ellen Potter, was a great book. I still think so, but I'm going to cheat a little and direct you to Book Aunt's review, because she did such a good job! I second everything she says about the quirky characters, the atmosphere, the surrealism that feels like magic even though technically it isn't, and the very funny writing. I diverge from her opinion only at the end: I thought the ending of The Kneebone Boy was brilliant. Yes, it totally turns all your expectations on their heads, but that just gives the emotional punch more weight. And it makes you rethink everything that went before, in a resonant, many-layers-of-theme kind of way. It's like when you order chocolate mousse for dessert, and it seems all light and sweet and yummy, and then there's a raspberry truffle in the middle.

I just got completely distracted from this blog entry when I went looking for The Kneebone Boy's cover and I found Ellen Potter's blog. She has a great blog, you have to go read it! Particularly this entry: Blame it on Mary. I have a new motto now (to go along with This Day We Write!)(I need another t-shirt): I am the carpetbag. I Am the Carpetbag. If that isn't inspiring, I don't know what is. (Just go read her blog entry; I can't possibly do it justice.)

Three completely different books

2011-10-13T10:53:00.000-07:00

I haven't made it through the entire stack of library books. (I never do: it's one of the great things about libraries, being able to take books out and then not read them. I can always take them out again later. All that choice and no pressure, like the buffet dinners at all-inclusive resorts!) (And this time I was distracted by the arrival of both This Dark Endeavour and Daughter of Smoke and Bone, which I had to read immediately, of course.) But I made some good picks that I ought to share, especially since I think none of them are very well-known.

Wrapped, by Jennifer Bradbury, is a light-hearted historical adventure/romance with Egyptian mummies and spies. It opens with the main character, Agnes, getting fitted for her coming-out dress while reading the latest Jane Austen novel:

"Put the book down, darling," my mother said from her chair beside the mirror.

"The chapter's end is only a short way off," I replied, reaching out with my other hand to flip the page. Despite the ache in my shoulder from holding the book at arm's length so the dressmakers could work on my gown, I didn't want to give it up.

I loved Agnes at once. She longs for adventure at the same time as she is not sure she's ready to come out. She is thoughtless and impulsive but genuinely tries to be good. And she doesn't quite know what to do when the very eligible Lord Showalter begins to court her. But the fun of this book is the amulet she finds at a mummy unwrapping, and the secret message attached to it, and sneaking around--with the entirely unsuitable but good-looking museum assistant--trying to solve the puzzle before the unknown bad guys do. The plot is contrived--it's rather silly the various reasons why she never tells her father about the amulet--but it's all good fun, the conclusion is everything you could have hoped for, and the stage is set for further Agnes adventures. If you liked Sorcery and Cecelia, or if you're a Jane Austen fan, then check this out. I have no idea what syllabub tastes like, but I imagine it's the perfect analogy to this book (they're always having it for dessert in Jane Austen!)

The Seer and the Sword, by Victoria Hanley, made me wonder why I've never heard of this author before, and made me want to find more of her books. It's traditional fantasy, as the title would suggest, but other than the crystal ball that gives Torina visions, there is little magical that happens. Rather, it is the story of a kingdom and the characters whose choices determine its fate. Torina's father comes home from a war of conquest with the son of the defeated king as a slave for his daughter. Torina immediately frees the boy, and they grow up together, and apart, as plots threaten the stability of the throne and enemies gather from across the sea. It reminded me of Robin McKinley's The Hero and the Crown, or Megan Whalen Turner's Attolia books: it has the sweep of politics and history, but its heart is the coming-of-age of two people who find out what they're made of when everything is taken from them. I cared very much about Torina and Landon and I liked what became of them. Good old-fashioned roast beef and Yorkshire pudding.

Questors, by Joan Lennon, looked original, and it was. I can't think of anything to compare it to exept perhaps some of Diana Wynne Jones' work. I'm going to claim Joan Lennon as Canadian, since she was born here, and say this is a Canadian author to watch out for. Three worlds exist in a complex balance, maintained by a mysterious Council in The London House, one of those great places where hallways and doors lead to different realities and Mrs. Macmahonney in the basement kitchen is the one person who knows all its secrets. Three children, one from each world, are brought to The London House and told that the balance is crumbling and they have been designed from birth to be the heroes who will put everything to rights. Except that things are worse than anticipated, and they have to complete their quest ten years before they were supposed to. So they're hardly the heroes they were meant to be. Maddy, Bryn, and Cam each have an ordeal in their own world, in which their choice of which Object to bring back will either save or doom all reality. The characters are convincing in their strengths and vulnerabilities, and in their difficulties getting along with each other. The worlds are imaginative, the ordeals interesting, the mythology mysterious and never completely explained, but not frustratingly confusing. I was intrigued by the concept and carried along by the plot. Fun and different, like chewy ginger cookies.

We moved, and now I can walk to the library!

2011-09-22T23:16:00.000-07:00

Has it really been more than a month since my last blog entry? Yikes. And right after I made my highly realistic two-blogs-a-month goal. (I should never set goals; it never turns out well for me.) In my defence, moving makes you put your entire life on hold. I haven't even been reading anything (other than all fourteen Harry Dresden books by Jim Butcher, but that was weeks ago.) We're still not unpacked and organized, because we're getting the place painted, so everything is a complete mess.

But it's a five minute walk to the local public library. Yesterday I escaped the chaos and went to get myself a new library card. I love libraries. Here are the first books I brought home with me:

Questors, by Joan Lennon, caught me with "three perfect heroes" who aren't quite perfect; it looks like an original concept

Epic, by Conor Kostick, looks like a cross between The Hunger Games and Omnitopia Dawn

The Minister's Daughter, by Julie Hearn, looks like a retelling of The Crucible

Wrapped, by Jennifer Bradbury, is Egyptology and Regency England; I picked it up because Book Aunt recommended it.

The Seer and the Sword, by Victoria Hanley, I picked up because of the cover by Trina Schart Hyman; love that artist.

City of Ships, by Mary Hoffman, is the latest in her Stravaganza series, which I've been enjoying.

Miles From Ordinary, by Carol Lynch Williams: this one actually didn't make it home from the library. I started reading the first few pages and I had to sit down and finish the whole thing right there. It's a deceptively simple story--it all takes place on one day, and not very much actually happens--but the emotional tension is ratcheted up tight all the way through. Brilliant writing, a brilliant voice. You are right inside this girl's head, and what a terrifying, heartbreaking place it is to be. Very impressive book.

Hex Hall and Demon Glass, by Rachel Hawkins. I needed something light and mindless after Miles From Ordinary, and this series fits the bill. Very typical plot: Sophie has never fit in because she is a . . . (which strange paranormal creature will it be this time?) a witch. She screws up and gets sent to a reform school for witches, vampires, werewolves etc., where she meets a guy who is wrong for her in every possible way, where the popular witches try to get her to join their dark magic coven, where people start getting attacked and the wrong people are accused of it . . . you get the picture. Not much original, but it's well-written, I like the characters, and it doesn't take itself too seriously. No brooding, lots of snarky comments. In the same vein as Paranormalcy.

Juan de Fuca Trail, and what I'm reading now

2011-08-10T16:15:00.000-07:00

I've been out of internet range briefly (not for the whole blogless period, but I'm going to use it as my excuse anyway!). I hiked part of the Juan de Fuca Trail with my siblings, my son, and my father. It was quite the adventure. This is not a trail for the faint-of-heart, but it's gorgeous. My brother takes awesome photos, so I'm going to steal a few to show you what it was like:

Beautiful beaches? Check.

Incredible ocean views? Check.

Rugged cliffs? Check.

Hidden waterfalls? Check.

Serene vistas? Check.

But to access all this beauty, you have to follow a trail that follows every contour of the water-carved coast, and that means going up every ridge and down every gully. Straight up, and then straight down. Over and over again. Thirteen times in twelve km on one day (someone going the other way told us that, and so I counted. He was right.) No sissy switchbacks, either. These pictures give some idea of the steepness:

No, the trail doesn't go over that log my crazy sister is standing on, but there were some sections that were nearly as perilous. We were planning to hike the whole 47 km trail, but on Day 2 my dad took a head-over-heels tumble down about 8 feet of nearly vertical trail and injured his rib. We managed to get him to camp (my 11-year-old son carried his grandpa's backpack for 3 km while my brother carried his own plus my son's. Lots of heroism that day!) but we decided we'd better leave the trail the next day. In the end it was just as well, because the people coming the other direction warned us about knee-deep mud in the next section! (And we were already pretty tired of dodging mud while clambering down ridiculous slopes.) So another year we'll have to come back (later in the season, maybe) and finish the trail. In the meantime, my knees are still recovering!

What did I have on my iPod to read while I was hiking? Fly By Night and its just-released sequel, Twilight Robbery, by Frances Hardinge. (Okay, I'm on a bit of a Hardinge kick. But she's worth it!)

I've also just tried out Jim Butcher, and found Storm Front, the first Harry Dresden novel, to be quite entertaining (not particularly appropriate for younger audiences however: no graphic sex, but adult situations and a fair amount of scary (and gross) violence).

The Grimm Legacy by Polly Shulman is worth a post of its own, so I'll just say I recommend it and add it to the list of posts-to-come. I should be able to start making a dent in that list, since I'm spending a couple of days at our new house on the Sunshine Coast, and there's not that much to do here. So stay tuned!

I could have been there . . . and more Frances Hardinge

2011-07-17T01:32:00.000-07:00

Last weekend our tango teacher hosted a tango festival that we bought tickets for, but when Saturday night came around and it was time to go to the Gala (which starts at 10pm--past our bedtime), my husband and I looked across the couch at each other and decided we were too tired to go. This is what we missed:

For those of you who are serious tango fans, (and in case my video embedding didn't work) you'll want to see the rest of the videos from the evening: here they are. I am still kicking myself for not managing to drag my sorry behind out of the house!

And in other news, I just finished my third Frances Hardinge book, and I went to her website to confirm that I have now read all of her books, and it turns out she's just published a new one! Much excitement! It's a sequel to Fly By Night, which I shall now reread to get up to speed.

The one I just finished is Verdigris Deep (also titled Well Wished, which is more literal but way boringer). I won't do a whole review, but I highly recommend it. Very different from The Lost Conspiracy but equally well-plotted, well-charactered, well-written. This one's British urban fantasy, the kind where unwitting kids unleash ancient magic on their everyday town. Here's a great scene: "A shrill, laughing conversation upstairs, a television-crowd roar in the living room, and nobody with enough attention spare to notice as two children scrambled past, struggling to prevent a god escaping from a bucket." (They flush it down the toilet.) And did you know shopping carts were so creepy?

You know who would make the most excellent panel at a writers' festival? Frances Hardinge, Laini Taylor, and Neil Gaiman! (Round it out with Frannie Billingsley.) Oh, oh, and Neil Gaiman could collaborate on a novel with Frances Hardinge. You'd have to leave the lights on all night after reading it!

I have to leave you with another quotation from Verdigris Deep. She is just so amazing, the way she uses words to come up with concepts you hadn't ever thought of that way but know immediately are true:

People's personalities took up space, he sometimes thought. When they were trapped in a house or a job or a school together they rubbed up against each other, squeaked like balloons and made sparks. Ryan's parents both had large, gleaming, hot-air-balloon personalities. Sometimes it was hard to fit them into the same house, and Ryan had learned the art of suddenly making himself take up less space, demand less, so that his parents were not chafing against each other as much.

And here's a psyche-shaking one from the end of the book (no spoiler 'cause it won't make any sense until you read the whole thing):

The image that would not leave Ryan's imagination was of Josh walking with a mask-like countenance towards the woman who had tried to kill him, and giving her the child he could not be.

As Kiersten White said in her blog post about author crushes (and she was referring to Laini Taylor!): "Oh my gosh. I want that brain. I will keep it for my own and love it and take care of it and decorate it for all major holidays."

Paranormalcy, by Kiersten White

2011-07-13T13:31:00.000-07:00

I've revised my blogging goal: now I aim to blog twice a month. Clearly this is a more realistic goal that I might be able to achieve! I know it will disappoint all of you who hang on my every word, but you'll just have to appreciate me in fewer doses. And if I manage to write more than two blogs a month, it will be a happy surprise for all of us!

I have a number of books in my to-be-recommended queue. I'll start with Paranormalcy because it's a particularly fun one.

I've already sent you to Kiersten White's blog, so you know she's an extremely funny writer with a great imagination, and her debut novel doesn't disappoint. I think the best way to sum up Paranormalcy is to say it's Artemis Fowl for teenage girls. (Maybe a bit of X-Men thrown in for good measure.) It has the same humorous juxtaposition of the paranormal (in this case everything from fairies to vampires and werewolves)(mermaids, too) with an Organization. So there are rules, procedures, protocols; yes there are monsters, but they're safely regulated. It's humorous because the otherworldly aren't supposed to follow rules (hence, "para-normal"). The opening scene, where Evie encounters a vampire being all menacing and she tasers him, slaps a cuff on him and reads him his rights, introduces the slightly flippant tone of the book. "I sighed. I hate the vamp jobs. They think they're so suave."

I interrupt this book recommendation to squee excitedly (as opposed to laconic squeeing, which rather defeats the point) about something I just found out while catching up on Kiersten White's blog: Laini Taylor has a new book coming out!!!!! It's not a Fairies of Dreamdark book; it's called Daughter of Smoke and Bone (awesome title) and you have to read the description in Amazon, because I'm pretty sure Laini Taylor wrote it herself. No one else says things like "Around the world, black handprints are appearing on doorways, scorched there by winged strangers who have crept through a slit in the sky." Aieeeee! And I don't know when it's coming out so I don't know how long I have to wait! If you don't believe my posts about Laini Taylor, believe Kiersten White: this is an author you simply must read.

Okay, back to the review of Paranormalcy (sorry about that!):

Main character Evie has grown up in the International Paranormal Containment Agency: she was an orphan with the previously unheard-of ability to see past glamours, and the IPCA took her in because this invaluable skill allows Evie to "bag and tag" paranormals who are a threat to humans. (To give them credit, the IPCA also offers refuge to paranormals who are threatened by humans). Evie wishes she could live a normal life, like the kids she sees on TV, but she doesn't question her place as the IPCA's most valuable operative.

Then things begin to go south, because the otherworldly don't actually follow the rules, and the International Paranormal Containment Agency is not as in control as it thinks it is. A shapeshifter arrives at the IPCA at the same time as someone starts killing paranormals in places they were supposed to be safe. While all this is going on, Evie learns she isn't quite who she thought she was. Whose side is she supposed to be on?

You will hate this book or love it depending on how you feel about Evie: I loved her, with her sparkly pink taser and her high heels and her addiction to teen soaps and her complete confidence in her own abilities. I loved that she is believably naive but able to think for herself; I loved her attitude and her vulnerability. I also really appreciated the romance element: not the typical tortured love triangle, and definitely not the I'm-unaccountably-attracted-to-this-mysterious-and-possibly-dangerous-stranger that's par for the course these days.

This is excellent summer reading: light, funny, and fast-paced. Fresh local raspberries brought home and washed and eaten at the kitchen sink right out of the container.

And book 2, Supernaturally, is coming out at the end of July. Just in time for peach season!

Chime, by Franny Billingsley

2011-06-13T11:44:00.000-07:00

I bought Chime on the strength of Franny Billingsley's The Folk Keeper, and it didn't disappoint. Chime is gorgeous, lush, creepy, luminous, romantic, terrifying and heartbreaking. Briony, Rose, and Eldric: how could you not want to read their story? (Assuming it's not all fairyland and elves, which it isn't. At all.) Here's the first two lines:

I've confessed to everything and I'd like to be hanged.

Now, if you please.

I don't need to say anything else: you must want to read it now. Especially with that cover. And the amazing font in the chapter titles.

Okay, I'll tell you a little more about it. Take equal parts Brothers Grimm (NOT the expurgated versions) and Bronte sisters (mostly Jane Eyre). Throw in a healthy dollop of campfire horror tales. Then wrap in silk and ribbons and take it "into the wild, into the real, into the ooze and muck and the clean, muddy smell of life." Past the Flats, through the Quicks, across the snickleways of the Slough. Hide it in "a tangle of mist and midst" in the middle of the swamp, and then come back and ask, "A person must always keep a secret, mustn't she?"

Oh, and it's a love story.

Briony narrates, Briony who hates herself. Briony who says she deserves to be hanged. Briony who takes care of her twin sister Rose, because Rose can never be left alone, and now that Stepmother is dead there is only Briony, because Father is never home.

Father's silence is not merely the absence of sound. It's a creature with a life of its own. It chokes you. It pinches you small as a grain of rice. it twists in your gut like a worm.

Silence clawed at my throat. It left a taste of burnt matches.

No, our family doesn't talk much.

The narration is oblique and halting, because Briony's understanding of herself is oblique and halting. Her memories of what happened to Stepmother and to Rose don't match up, but she is certain the terrible things are all her fault, because Briony is a witch. Her anger and jealousy are dangerous because she can call up the Old Ones from the swamp, even if she doesn't intend to. At all costs she must prevent herself from hurting anyone else, particularly Eldric, with his "golden lion's eyes and a great mane of tawny hair," who stirs up more jealousy than ever. And isn't that odd, because Briony is too wicked to be able to love, isn't she?

The swamp is both setting and character, and Billingsley's poetic prose turns delicious every time Briony enters it:

My moonbeam skirts were pale moths, fluttering past the skulls of giant mushrooms. I sank into peat moss and autumn leaves, into the musk-stink of dying cabbage and the splosh of decay.

Voices laughed and ran past me in the shadows. I ran through a tangle of moonlight; I ran into a copper sea. If a body meet a body, comin' thro' the rye.

I was wild, I was wolfgirl. I was light as a moonbeam, my bones were filled with lace. I ran past chiming voices. "Pretty girl love pretty boy."

Chime is a puzzle. You will likely put the pieces together before Briony does, but will you figure it out before Eldric? Rose already knows.

This is a tasty novel, deep and layered, full of secrets: gingerbread with pears poached in red wine topped with cinnamon creme.

Canadian Book Week: Susan Juby

2011-06-10T22:35:00.000-07:00

Alas, I am a fickle blogger! I'm not quite sure what has happened to the last three weeks. Perhaps I got caught in a time vortex because the Tardis was in the neighborhood. (Have you been watching the latest Doctor Who season? Crazy weird plot-lines! I loved the Neil Gaiman episode. But I digress.)(I actually know where the last week went, because since I began this review we decided to sell our house and buy a townhouse, and for some reason we decided to do everything this week, just because we weren't busy enough already. Sneaking the time to write this review was a bit therapeutic.)

I promised to do a Canadian book every month, and I'm a little late for May's, but we can pretend it's still May, can't we? Because I really must blog about Susan Juby. I just finished her latest, The Woefield Poultry Collective, and I was laughing so hard I was crying--which made the people in the park look rather strangely at me!

I think humour might be the hardest thing to write well, and Susan Juby is brilliant at it. She began with a young adult trilogy: Alice, I Think; Miss Smithers; and Alice MacLeod, Realist at Last.

Alice is a teenager in the very small (and quite real) town of Smithers, BC, homeschooled by her vegetarian, pacificist, feminist mother ever since "a series of unfortunate social failures in first grade, connected to my mistaken belief that I was a hobbit." In Alice, I Think, she tries out high school, with mixed results, and "personal expression via fashion experimentation," with even more mixed results. In Miss Smithers, she becomes the Rod and Gun Club representative in the Miss Smithers Pageant, much to her mother's dismay:

My mother has been attempting maternal guidance. Her unsuccessful efforts have revealed the fascist tendencies just below the surface of most New Age practitioners and cemented my commitment to civic participation. If I wasn't already entered in the Miss Smithers contest for personal growth and financial gain, I'd now be in it for spite.

In Alice MacLeod, Realist At Last, her mother goes to jail after an environmental protest, her boyfriend leaves for Scotland after an awkward goodbye ("Our last chance to consummate our love. Ruined by a moose"), and Alice writes a screenplay. "I've channeled some of my anxiety into my art, but I still have quite a bit left over." Exotic fish, leather pants, and knitting play key roles in Alice's adventures, and she's helped through her self-actualization by a therapist nicknamed Death Lord Bob, a best friend ("More accurately, she is my only friend") who "looks sort of like how I used to before I started making an effort," and a younger brother who is "the only genuinely together person in our family. . . We all try to take our cues for how to behave from him." As the highly suspect narrator of her own embarrassing mishaps, Alice forges through all the issues of adolescence with a gawky sense of elan. If you have ever felt like you don't quite fit in, you will love Alice.

The Woefield Poultry Collective is Juby's latest, and her first for an adult audience. Doesn't it have an awesome title? (Be sure you get the Canadian edition: they named it Home to Woefield in the States, which is the lamest alternate title I've ever seen. Is "poultry" too difficult a word for Americans? Or is it "collective" that's the problem, with its scary socialist implications? What were the publishers thinking?)

Woefield has four hilariously unreliable narrators: Prudence, a city girl from New York who inherits her uncle's farm on Vancouver Island and decides to become an organic farmer; Earl, the old farm hand who doesn't know much about farming but plays a mean banjo; Seth, a twenty-something alcoholic recluse who shows up on Prudence's doorstep after his mother kicks him out; and Sara, a twelve-year old girl who raises competition chickens while her family falls apart. As if they didn't have enough problems between them, Juby throws in Bertie the depressed sheep, Eustace the very good-looking vet who disagrees with all of Prudence's environmental beliefs, and a bluegrass festival. Absurd situations abound (there's nothing like sheep for a little absurdity), and the characters' disparate reactions to each new crisis add layers to the humour.

You will find it particularly funny if you, like me, are a city girl with pretensions to sustainability: if you've tried vermiposting, if you've read The Omnivore's Dilemma and think small scale wholistic organic farming sounds wonderful, if you feel guilty every time you grocery shop because everything you buy harms something in some way. I was hooked from the moment Prudence described the death of her worms from being overwatered during a heat wave: "The poor things drowned and cooked, leaving a sort of warmed-over red wriggler soup."

Warning: there is strong language. Normally I would object, but I have to say that this book wouldn't be the same without Earl's colorful voice (several swear words in the following quotation):

I was trying to stay the hell out of the way, but when I saw the first shithouse fall off the truck, I thought, goddamn it, I'm going to have to get involved. No way around it.

That right there sums up the theme of The Woefield Poultry Collective: you deal with sh*t by getting involved.

Juby doesn't shy away from issues (even in her YA writing): alchoholism, divorce, sex, bullying are all treated realistically and with compassion. No easy answers, but perspective. Her humour is never cynical nor mocking (at least, not the bad kind of mocking, only the good kind): we are laughing with her characters, not at them.

If you need a good belly-laugh; if you need to feel that in the chaos of the universe events still might turn out for the best, I recommend Susan Juby. Like popsicles on a hot day, she's just the thing.

Kiersten White is very funny

2011-05-20T00:39:00.000-07:00

She has a great blog*, and this post was brilliantly hilarious. I think she totally pulls off the second person future narration!

(If you want to see second person narration done brilliantly, read Italo Calvino's amazing book, If on a winter's night a traveller. Go to the link and click on the Look Inside; it has most of the first chapter so you can get a feel for it. Calvino alternates between chapters in second person, in which you, the Reader, are the protagonist, and chapters which are the book you are trying to read. Except that there's a problem with the book, and you end up reading the first chapter of a number of different books, each with its own style. And as you try to solve the mystery of the defective book and get a story that you can actually finish, you meet the Other Reader, who joins you on your quest. It's a lot of fun, and it's an homage to books and the reading experience, so if you consider yourself a Reader, you should read it.)

(As a writing exercise I tried my hand at Calvino's technique and wrote a sci-fi novella that alternates between second and third person and parodies a number of different sci-fi/fantasy tropes. It's really bad but I had a lot of fun doing it!)

(I think I could do an entire novel in parentheses: I bet that hasn't been done before!)

*This is the first time I've thought of a use for twitter: obviously sending you to read someone else's blog isn't a blog entry, but I felt like telling people about Kiersten White's post, so I guess I could have tweeted it. If I had a twitter account.(Actually I think I do have a twitter account, but I only ever used it once to enter a contest to win a Robin McKinley book. (I didn't win.) I'm not sure I even know how to get to it, or what user name or password I might use to access it.)(I feel about Twitter the way I feel about the butterfly stroke in swimming: I'm quite happy not knowing how to do it.)

The Folk Keeper, by Franny Billingsley

2011-05-17T12:19:00.000-07:00

Oh, how frustrating! I had a whole review of this book almost complete, and blogger lost it. It was a good review, too. I compared The Folk Keeper to Wolves of Willoughby Chase: old stone house in lonely setting, supernatural menace, original use of traditional folklore elements. The difference is the narrator: Corin/Corinna is fierce and single-minded and not very nice, and yet our sympathies are entirely with her. She disguises herself as a boy so that she can have the post of Folk Keeper at the orphanage: her job is to draw off the malice of the invisible Folk who live under the house. It says much about her character that she lies and schemes to get this dangerous yet important position. She thinks this is everything she wants in life, but then she is brought to Marblehaugh Park (the old stone house in the lonely setting), and she learns things about herself that she had never imagined. I have to quote from the review at Amazon.com because she says it so well: a proud, ferociously self-reliant girl who breaks out of her dark, cold, narrow world into one of joy, understanding, and even . . . But that's more of a spoiler than I'm prepared to give. (Don't cheat and go read the Amazon review!)

I said lots of other clever things that I can't remember now, but here's my conclusion:

The plot is original but has the inevitable feeling of a folktale: the orphan finds a home; the child discoveres her true identity. Corinna's journey into herself is surprising, convincing and satisfying. I found The Folk Keeper atmospheric and suspenseful, and quite, quite unique. (I think I may not wait for our library to get Chime; I don't usually buy books before I read them, but I feel pretty confident about Franny Billingsley as an author.)

The Folk Keeper is a salad of wild greens and bitter herbs with a few curls of Grana Padano cheese and a very light, lemony dressing, served with artisan bread and fresh butter.

The Chaos Walking trilogy, by Patrick Ness

2011-05-08T01:11:00.000-07:00

I'm finally done: I had three hours of watching my son at circus practice, and I brought along writing to do but I brought Monsters of Men as well, thinking maybe I'd just read for an hour and then I'd put it down. Yeah, right. I wasn't quite done when circus was over, and I was just about prepared to let son and carpooler sit there and wait while I read the last few chapters. (I didn't, though. I mustered self-control and waited until I got home.) Then I had to wait for a few days before I had anything to say about it besides "Woah. Oh my. Holy crap. Wow. Mmmglfarb blither blither."

Monsters of Men lived up to the other two. It was intense, there were hard choices made and people didn't usually make the right ones, there were significant surprises and devastating moments. The end was unexpected and gut-wrenching and satisfying. (More satisfying than Mockingjay, just for the record.) I'm not going to say anything more about the plot, because this is a series you do not want spoilers for.

Patrick Ness can write. These are amazing books. Should you read them? Yes, if you like dystopias and post-apocalyptic men-reduced-to-the-best-and-worst-they-can-be types of stories. (It's not post-apocalyptic, it's actually settlers-on-a-new-planet, but you get the same sense.) Yes, if you like page-turning, nail-biting suspense and can handle present-tense semi-stream-of-consciousness narration (which is one of the things that bothered a lot of reviewers, but I thought it worked. Made everything visceral.) Yes if you can take a fair bit of violence. Yes if you don't mind science-fictiony concepts that aren't really well-explained--Ness requires you to suspend disbelief and just accept the concept of Noise with only a minimal framework to understand it in. (I think the series is less science fiction and more parable: let's put humans in this scenario and see what happens to them. The scenario happens to be new planet, aliens, strange form of telepathy, but we're not that interested in the details; we just want to see what the people do. It's kind of Shakespearean that way.)

I think these are the kind of books that you either love or hate. I loved them. I'm curious to know what you think.

(And those covers: are they not the best covers ever? Awesome titles, too. Just overall general awesomeness all around.)

I don't have a food analogy because reading these wasn't like eating. It was more like injecting a drug (not that I would know what that's like!)

Letters from Rapunzel, by Sara Lewis Holmes

2011-05-06T13:39:00.000-07:00

I love libraries. You can go and browse and find all kinds of interesting-looking books and you can take them all home with you. And then if you don't get around to reading them, or you start reading them but they aren't as interesting as they looked, you just take them back, and it doesn't cost anything! (Unless you take them back late, but I always consider library fines to be my contribution to a worthy cause.)

I especially like it when I've been browsing blogs and I come up with lists of interesting-looking books, and then I go to my library and they have them! That happened the other day with Letters From Rapunzel. I was miserably sick, and I was browsing blogs because it was all I had the energy to do, and I came across Sara Lewis Holmes' blog (which had two great poems for Poetry Friday). Then I got sick of being stuck inside on a beautiful day so I went to the library (at least I was outside between my house and the library) and they had a whole bunch of the books I had found on the blogs, including Letters From Rapunzel. Score! It's like winning the jackpot. Then I came home and flopped on the couch feeling miserable and read Letters From Rapunzel, which is a quick read and a great story and made me feel much better.

"Rapunzel" is stuck in after school Homework Club because her father is in the hospital with a serious bout of depression and her mother works. Signing her name as Rapunzel because she feels as though she is locked in a tower, she begins writing letters to someone she thinks is a friend of her father's, asking for help saving her father from the Evil Spell he's under. The entire story is told in letter form; even when she doesn't get a response she continues writing as she tries to make sense of her father's illness and her own problems fitting in and meeting everyone's expectations.

Funny, imaginative, and perceptive, Rapunzel is a wonderful narrator. She can't ever do a homework project the way her teachers want, and her letters often include her wacky assignments. She weaves fairy tales and poetry into her letters, which become a diary of self-discovery. (We know she is getting somewhere when she finally signs her real name: Cadence.) Giving up on getting rescued by her unknown correspondent, Cadence takes matters into her own hands, with funny and poignant results. The Happily Ever After she comes up with is not the one she wanted, but it's one she creates for herself.

You'll like this book if you like first-person quirky narrators and if you like playing with fairy tale conventions and if you believe in poetry. I found it sweet and light with a serious heart; I truly cared about Cadence and her family, and her story's resolution was realistic and satisfying. A perfect afternoon-stuck-on-the-couch book.

Letters from Rapunzel is a homemade doughnut (the yeast kind, not the cake kind) with apple jelly filling and powdered sugar on top.

(And yes, I'm reading the last Chaos Walking book, but it's really intense: lots more bad things are happening to the characters and I don't want more bad things to happen to them! So I'm interspersing it with rereading the Mortal Instruments series before starting The City of Fallen Angels (fourth book of a trilogy, wouldn't you know.)

The Ask and the Answer, by Patrick Ness

2011-04-28T08:36:00.000-07:00

I'm jumping up and down screaming "aaarrrggggh!" and tearing my hair and banging my head against the wall. Book 2 lives up to Book 1, with a vengeance. (The library has Book 3, but I have taxes I have to do!)

A warning: if you thought The Hunger Games was too violent and depressing, DO NOT read these books. If you only like books where the good guys win, do not even pick these ones up. (That's not a spoiler: in these books there are no good guys. They're so morally complex you want to tear your hair out. But there's definitely a worser guy, whoo, boy, does this series have a villain!)

The Knife of Never Letting Go, by Patrick Ness

2011-04-24T23:11:00.000-07:00

I just finished it. Wow. That's all I have to say right now. Wow.

And don't dare begin the first book if you don't have the second one in your possession! (The library's closed tomorrow, arrrgghh!)

Canadian Book Week: My One Hundred Adventures, by Polly Horvath

2011-04-22T12:00:00.000-07:00

I am remiss. I have discovered an omission. (You would think that I could say, "I am remiss, I have discovered a remission," but that doesn't work, does it. I also tried "I have committed an omission," and that doesn't work either, although I could commit the sin of omission, and then beg for a remission of my sin. (I could do a whole blog on English derivatives of the Latin mittere, to send, to put, to let go. All having to do with opening the hand. Omit, to let go downwards or drop. Remit, to send back. Remiss, to let go again, or slacken, thus both remiss: lax in duty and remission: forgiveness. Commit, to send with, to put with. Fascinating. (But probably only to me.)))

My omission? I find I have not reviewed a single Canadian book since I began this blog. How could I be so remiss? I think I shall have to commit to instituting Canadian Book Week on my blog: the third week of every month I will make a point of talking about the Canadian YA/Children's book scene. And to inaugurate Canadian Book Week, I will review the book I just finished reading: My One Hundred Adventures.

Polly Horvath is the author of Everything On A Waffle, a book in my list of top ten best titles ever. (There's another good blog idea: best book titles. Start collecting your favourites and I'll blog about that soon.) Horvath is off-beat, off-the-wall, out-there. If you look up "quirky" in the dictionary, she'll be the definition. But she also has the melancholy soul of a poet. She writes very funny stories of children growing out of their childhood illusions and coming to understand that the world is a more difficult place than they might have thought.

My One Hundred Adventures might be her most poetic book yet.

It is the beginning of July and we have two months to live out the long, nurturing days, watching the geese and the saltwater swans and the tides as they are today, slipping out, out, out as the moon pulls the other three seasons far away wherever it takes things. . . . Out past my childhood, out past the ghosts, out past the breakwater of the stars.

Jane is the daughter of a poet and an unknown father. Secretly she believes "that I was conceived in the depths of a moonlit sea by tides and eddies and swirls of sea life and the longing of a poet to be a mother." This is one of the myths that gets turned on its head over the summer.

Jane begins the summer wanting adventures.

As if itchy and out-grown, my soul is twisting about my body, wanting something more to do this summer than the usual wading in the shallows and reading and building castles on the shore. I want something I know not what, which is what adventures are about.

And adventures she gets, although none of them are quite what she expected, from Mrs. Park's thrombosis to the sticky Gourd children to the psychic who may be a thief but may still have predicted truly. As the summer is measured out in ripening berries, Jane encounters the inexplicable behaviour of adults and the surprising consequences of trying to do right. She is let down and disillusioned, but the new world she discovers has its own wonders. Ultimately she learns that "all our lives are mundane but all our lives are also poetry."

If it were all lyrical prose and dawning self-awareness I'm not sure I would recommend the book, as beautiful as some of the passages are. But it's also really, really funny. Some of the wit is almost slapstick, and some of it is sly and dry, and some is just funny because it's so weird. Dropping Bibles out of balloons. Looking for poodle portals. Fruitless hats. It's a book to make you laugh and wince, often at the same time.

This is a great summer beach read--it will take you to a summer beach even if you're landlocked in Saskatchewan in December, it's so evocative. My One Hundred Adventures is definitely fresh buttermilk biscuits, hot from the oven, with homemade jam, eaten on the porch looking out at the sea.

A very long post about Lois McMaster Bujold

2011-04-10T18:35:00.000-07:00

The short version: go read her books.

I spent a week skiing at Sun Peaks for Spring Break: a lot of enforced down-time, and I didn't bring enough books to read. (Oh, horror!) So I ended up rereading a lot of what was on my iPod. That includes the majority of the Vorkosigan series by Lois McMaster Bujold. I have to say, I love this woman! And I really love her character, Miles Vorkosigan. So, even though it's not YA*, I'm going to devote a post to convincing you to try some Bujold.

First off, you have to know the range of offerings in the Bujold canon. You could start with her most recent fantasy, a 4-book series set in an alternate world that feels American-frontier-ish: The Sharing Knife. It has unique bad guys, (malices that suck the life force from everything around them and gain power and intelligence depending on what life happens to be nearby), fascinating magic (malices can only be destroyed with knives made from the bones of Patrollers who willingly donate them), and a love story (a really good, realistic one).

Or, try her earlier fantasy--three independent books set in a land inspired by Spain in the 15th C. The Curse of Chalion is an amazing book; just reading the plot summary won't tell you nearly enough about it. The character of Cazaril is one of the most complex and most noble fictional people I've ever met. Then Paladin of Souls gives us another character who also seems nothing at first and then rises to unimaginable heights of love and self-sacrifice to save her world. (I think I'll reread those two next.)

The rest of her books are science fiction, perhaps best described as space opera. Character is where Bujold shines, and with Miles Vorkosigan, she has created a brilliantly unique character she can spin endless tales about, along with a wonderful universe in which he can get himself into all kinds of trouble. (The Bujold canon link lists all the Vorkosigan books in helpful chronological order.)

The first books in the Vorkosigan series, Shards of Honor and Barrayar (sometimes published together as Cordelia's Honor), tell the story of Miles' parents--they meet as enemies in the middle of an interplanetary war. (I recommended the books to my father and he emailed me back later: "You never told me it was a love story!")(I don't think he read far enough to get to the scene with the head in a shopping bag--I think that might have redeemed it for him.)

Miles Vorkosigan suffers from the results of the civil war that is the plot of Barrayar: *** very minor spoiler to Barrayar in yellow here***Crippled because his mother was exposed to a toxin during pregnancy, ***okay you're safe now*** he has physical and psychological burdens that would crush anyone else. But Miles is a genius, and he's manic, and he is bound and determined to prove that he is more capable than anyone else (and to live up to his father's towering reputation). So he gets himself into ridiculous situations that only genius and manic determination can get him out of, and in the process he saves the planet, or the wormhole nexus, or the emperor, or his father's honour, or all of the above. He drags/manipulates/coerces/
shanghai's a whole cast of characters--each with their own motivations and burdens--along on his schemes, and one and all they are transformed by the Miles effect into better, greater versions of themselves.

Miles: I may be completely off-base and panicking prematurely.

Ivan: I don't think so. I think you're panicking post-maturely. In fact, if you were panicking any later it would be practically posthumously. I've been panicking for days.

Miles is staunchly loyal but has a problem with insubordination; overweeningly self-confident but convinced he will never live up to his grandfather's expectations; tactically ruthless but always painfully aware of the cost of his victories. Bujold apparently patterned the Vorkosigan series after C.S. Forester's Horatio Hornblower series (is that why she gave him such a ridiculous last name?), and Miles "Admiral Naismith" Lord Vorkosigan is a worthy successor to Hornblower. (I highly recommend the Hornblower books, by the way.)(And the movies: Ioan Gruffudd being noble. Yum.)

Some of the Vorkosigan books are written as straight-up comedy (In A Civil Campaign, Regency romance meets the Three Stooges, with butter bugs); others are considerably more serious (Memory brought me to tears), but they all have moments of both great humour and dramatic depth. Bujold doesn't do throwaway characters or plot for the sake of plot, nor are her settings ever stock sci-fi backgrounds: her stories are always the intersections of well-rounded people with well-developed societies/circumstances. Her universe is huge and varied, with all kinds of intriguing societal variations. I would not call her work hard-core sci-fi, because technology is not the main character, (her science may not be rigorous, but it is plausible: no faster-than-light travel or transporters); but she definitely explores the effects of technology on societies and individuals, and, in the best sci-fi tradition, her future empires are extrapolated commentary on our current world.

Okay, now I sound like I'm writing a thesis on Bujold. Just ignore my babblings and go see what your library has. You could start the Vorkosigan series at a few different places, depending on how important it is for you to read things in the order they happened. Each book has a self-contained plot, and she's very good at giving you whatever info you need to understand the current book. Starting with Shards of Honour gives you everything in order; starting with Warrior's Apprentice introduces you to Miles. Komarr is another place to jump into things, particularly if you like romance; it's told from a new character's point of view, so it works as an intro to Miles.** Note that her plots are all like a roller coaster ride: she starts slow, as she introduces the characters and situation, and then when everything gets set in motion you just have to hang on for the ride!

*As far as appropriateness for a YA audience goes, I don't have a problem recommending most of her books. There is a fair bit of violence and some sex, none of it graphic, though some of the sexual options she mentions might be a tad eye-opening for a younger audience (there are genetically engineered hermaphrodites in her future, for example). The books I would hesitate before recommending are Shards of Honour and Mirror Dance: both have disturbing scenes of sexual torture--again, not graphic, but just the idea of it is disturbing.

**Just to confuse you further, all the Miles books are also available in various novel collections (all with "Miles" in the title). If your library doesn't seem to have the book you're looking for, make sure to check these. When in doubt, refer to the Bujold canon link.

Pathfinder and The Lost Gate, by Orson Scott Card

2011-04-03T22:51:00.000-07:00

I'm still catching up on reviews of my Hawaii reading. (I started this review more than a month ago, but then I got distracted and then I sort of forgot about it.) Remember I said four of the books I read in Hawaii were the first books of series? Well two of them were from the same author; Orson Scott Card is so ridiculously prolific that he published two books last year, both of them first books in entirely different series. (If he can write two books a year, why can't they be books I and II of one series?)(And how on earth does he keep the plots all in his head??)

Orson Scott Card is pretty famous, so he doesn't fit the Dead Houseplants mandate, but I figured the YA fantasy audience may not be so familiar to him, since most of his work is adult sci-fi. He's an accomplished storyteller with an amazing imagination; I always feel in good hands when I begin one of his stories, and he's full of mind-bending concepts and plot-twists. If you haven't read Ender's Game and Speaker for the Dead, I highly recommend them.

Pathfinder starts out sounding like fantasy: Rigg has the unusual ability of seeing paths in the air where living things have passed. This makes him an excellent hunter, and trapping for furs in the wilderness is the life he's always known. Then a life-or-death situation makes him discover a new aspect to his ability and sends him on a journey.

But just when we're settling in for the classic fantasy journey of discovery, there's a chapter from the point of view of a character in a spaceship, about to make the first-ever jump into a fold in space-time. It's a strange juxtaposition, but it's fascinating to follow the two plot lines and slowly figure out how they're connected. Rigg travels from the edge to the centre of his civilization, getting involved in plots and politics and figuring out who he really is and what this ability of his can accomplish. The story in the spaceship has less action and takes up less time, but it's full of crazy ideas from physics that end up being essential to understanding Rigg and his world. The plot comes to a satisfying end but it's clear the story isn't over; I am very curious to find out what happens next.

The Lost Gate is definitely fantasy, except that the magical people (who were the gods in ancient mythology) "gated" to Earth from another planet, Westil. (So far it seems irrelevant that it's another planet rather than another "world," but you never know with Card.) The story is set in modern times, when the descendants of those first Westilians have lost most of their powers because the last gatemage closed the Great Gate between Earth and Westil.

The North family lived on a compound in a sheltered valley in western Virginia, and most of them never went to town, for it was a matter of some shame that gods should now be forced to buy supplies and sell crops just like common people.

Danny North is a typical fantasy hero: born into a family of mages but with no apparent power of his own. Of course, he ends up having the most feared and coveted power of them all (you can guess, but I'm not going to give it away), and he has to run away from his family to stop them from killing him or exploiting him. In the meantime, someone long asleep on Westil is awakened. Dah dah dah dom. Danny goes through a bit of an anti-hero journey as he tries to figure out how to use his power and stay alive, and the mysterious character of Wad gets caught up in royal politics on Westil.

Of the two books, I think I liked Pathfinder best, but that may be because I read it first. When I picked up The Lost Gate what I really wanted was more about Rigg and his planet instead of absorbing a whole nother cosmology. The planet of Westil is complex and interesting and I wasn't paying quite enough attention to it. I have mixed feelings about Danny and Rigg as main characters: Rigg is a more appealing person, because of his confidence, whereas Danny seems almost whiney, but I think Danny has more long-term potential; it's amusing to watch Rigg learn to manipulate the people around him, but after a while his arrogant know-it-allness becomes annoying.

I still recommend both books: Pathfinder if you cross over easily between sci-fi and fantasy, and The Lost Gate if you want more magic. But you might want to wait and see which sequel is going to come out first before you decide!

(I'll have to wait until I reread them to make a food analogy; it's been too long and I've lost their flavour.)

Diana Wynne Jones

2011-03-29T13:12:00.000-07:00

I have a couple of half-finished blogs, but I have to put them on hold to pay tribute to one of the great writers who has just passed away. If only I could come up with words to do her justice.

First I'll send you over to this post from Book Aunt, because she does a great job of summing up Diana Wynne Jones' multiplicity of books. Then you should read Jones' rather astonishing autobiography.

After reading about her life, it won't surprise you to hear that Diana Wynne Jones' books are odd, quirky, funny, "tilted away sideways*" from anything else you've ever read. Her writing is endlessly imaginative, sharply humourous, and deeply complex. There are books of hers I've reread several times and still don't get. My favourite books I reread often and get something new out of them every time. Even the lightest-hearted stories leave you feeling vaguely disquieted, as if some of your cherished assumptions have been subtly altered but you're not sure how.

Where should you start? You're most likely to be able to lay hands easily on Howl's Moving Castle and the Chrestomanci books, as they are justifiably her most popular works. The wizard Howl and Chrestomanci are both marvellous creations: powerful, arrogant, good but deeply flawed. And Sophie (of Howl's Moving Castle) is the best heroine ever. Period. Calcifer the demon is fasinating and the castle itself is brilliant; I could go on and on about Howl's Moving Castle. It's one of my all-time-favourite, bring-to-desert-island, reread-whenever-I'm-feeling-down books. The Chrestomanci books, besides having Chrestomanci himself (and don't we all wish there really were such a person, to step in and fix everything at the last minute, though not without challenging us to do most of the fixing ourselves, thus discovering our own hidden strength; and not without getting thoroughly exasperated at our ability to have screwed things up this badly in the first place) are a wonderful introduction to the Diana Wynne Jones' multiverse, her collection of parallel universes, most of which are far more interesting than our own. Here's a suggestion from her website about how to read the Chrestomanci books; like the multiverse itself, they proliferate in multiple directions, and it doesn't really matter which one you read first. They are short, easy reads and great fun, but there's a core of seriousness--Jones' villains are truly scary, once you find out who the villains really are.

My next favourite books after these (in fact, I may even like them more, but I don't have my own copies so I haven't reread them in a while) are The Dark Lord of Derkholm and Year of the Griffin. These are absolutely hilarious. They manage to be both a brilliant satire of the whole fantasy genre and perfectly plotted fantasy novels in their own right. I think I'm going to have to order these online because they should be in my library.

Then there are her books for older readers with seriously mind-bending concepts and narration: Hexwood and Fire and Hemlock are the ones I have read. If you like books where you're never sure what's real because someone is messing with reality, check these out. Dogsbody is another more serious novel for older readers, a wonderful, sad story that many people mention as a favourite (not nearly so mind-bending, in case you were worried).

She returns to the multiverse with The Merlin Conspiracy, which I could explain as Chrestomanci for people who can follow really convoluted plots--convoluted in a good way, with a crazy cast of characters and universes and an ending that comes much too soon despite the 472 pages. And she plays with reality again, doing yet another take on magical people who have to take care of things so everything doesn't fall apart, with Enchanted Glass. (Best use of vegetables in fiction, BTW.)

I'm going to go on a quest for Diana Wynne Jones books I haven't read yet (and she's a prolific author, so there are many). I'll let you know when I find more favourites. In the meantime, you can tell me which your favourites are. Let's make a point of introducing her to as many people as we can.

*A quotation from The Merlin Conspiracy

Death, Rebirth, and a Book Club Recommendation: Matched, by Ally Condie

2011-03-09T18:36:00.000-08:00

My computer died! Life came briefly to an end; I was bereft; I was useless. But all turned out well in the end, because I have an automated backup program. My life was returned to me, intact, with a new hard drive and all the same ridiculously unorganized data I can't seem to live without. It's a little scary how dependent I am on this screen with the little icons lined up at the bottom. (And if Google wants to take over the world, I don't think it would be very hard: we're all little Google slaves already!)

Speaking of taking over the world, I recently read Matched. Apparently it's now on bestseller lists, so it doesn't exactly need my recommendation. However, the other day I was a bit intimidated to discover that someone's book club was looking to my blog for a new book recommendation. (I hope they all like The Lost Conspiracy!) (I hope they can find enough copies; there are a couple in my local library, but that might be a bit far to come!) Considering books for a book club is a quite different matter than recommending to individual readers: you want something that appeals to a wide range of tastes and sensitivities, and something meaty enough to generate discussion (other than "she should have picked the other guy"!).

Given those criteria, I would have to suggest Matched as an excellent book club choice. It's science fiction in so far as it's a dystopian vision of the future, but it's a quiet, introverted kind of dystopian novel. The anti-Hunger Games, if you will. And it's a love story, of course. (The theme song could be from Muse: "Love is our resistance.")

Condie creates a perfect world where every decision--what to eat, what to wear, what job to choose, who to marry--is made by the Society. There is no violent repression or coercion: everyone willingly participates because they believe this is the best way to be happy. At least, that's what Cassia thinks. Her doubts about the beneficence of the Society begin when she Matched to her best friend, Xander, but her information packet shows her the face of Ky. Is Xander the one she is meant to be with, or is it Ky?

I thought it was brilliant of Condie to present this society to us from Cassia's point of view: as a teenager who has grown up in this peaceful, controlled world, she takes it for granted and is invested in its continuation. This is what life is like, and it works, and there's no reason to question it, is there? The subtle and obvious ways she is manipulated are all the more horrifying to the reader because Cassia thinks they're normal. Cassia wants nothing more than to take her place as a contributing adult in her society, but her growing relationships with Xander, Ky and her family start her wondering, and once she starts to question, there is no going back.

Matched is not an action-packed violence-fest. The suspense is quiet but constant and the conflict is almost entirely internal. The critical moments are not so much Cassia's actions as her decisions. I loved that her first rebellion was over poetry. The actions are all so small, but the decisions they represent are huge. Holding a scrap of paper can be terrifying. Each decision Cassia makes leads to a slightly larger action with wider repercussions, until she makes a life-changing mistake. There is a sequel, due Fall 2011. I won't say it's a cliffhanger ending, exactly, but I am quite anxious to read the next one!

Matched is like salted caramel ice cream: a smooth, quiet surface with surprising hidden piquancy.

I'll leave you with a friendly reminder: when was the last time you backed up your hard drive?

The Lost Conspiracy, by Frances Hardinge

2011-02-16T13:38:00.000-08:00

This is a really, really good book, and you must read it. Go see if your library has a copy. Even quicker, it's on Kindle and it's cheap (by its original title, Gullstruck Island). (No, I don't get a cut of every sale!)

I don't want to tell you anything about the plot, because I don't want to give anything away. This is a book about secrets and lies, conspiracies and betrayals, murder and revenge. It's also about family and loyalty and myth and redemption. It's dark but it has a light heart.

Here is our first glimpse of our heroine:

As it happened, the girl supporting Arilou had a name too. It was designed to sound like the settling of dust, a name that was meant to go unnoticed. She was as anonymous as dust, and Skein gave her not the slightest thought.

Neither would you. In fact, you have already met her, or somebody very like her, and you cannot remember her at all.

If that doesn't give you a frisson of anticipation about the coming story, then I give up on you entirely!

The Lost Conspiracy is set on a marvelous volcanic tropical island. On this island and nowhere else, some children are born with the ability to send their senses out of their body independently, so they can see, hear, taste, touch, and smell things at a far distance. Before they learn to control this ability, they are often absent from their bodies, so a child who has trouble walking or talking or who doesn't seem to connect with their surroundings might be disabled or they might be Lost. Arilou is one such child. She and her younger sister (oh, have I not mentioned her name yet? I must have forgotten. Hardinger doesn't even tell us until Chapter 2) get caught up in an island-wide plot masterminded by a man with no face, that threatens all of the Lost and all of Arilou's kin.

The richness of Hardinge's fantasy setting reminds me a lot of Laini Taylor. Flitterbirds peck at your shadow and when they fly away they unravel your soul with them. The volcanoes King Fan and Lord Spearhead are rivals for the affection of a third volcano, Lady Sorrow. Implacable bounty hunters, called Ashwalkers, gain strength and protection by dyeing their clothes in the cremation ashes of the criminals they catch. The original inhabitants of the island, the Lace, have become outcasts, because when settlers first built a town in the valley between two volcanoes, the Lace kidnapped townspeople and sacrificed them to turn away the volcanoes' wrath (and save the town). The Reckoning is a secret group of Lace who have sworn to take revenge for murderd kin: they get a half a butterfly tattoo on one arm when they take the oath, and the other half of the tattoo on the other arm when they complete their vengeance.

It's not always easy to tell the good guys from the bad guys; in fact, not a single character is what he or she first appears to be. But at the end, right and wrong are clear and everyone gets their true name. (Oh, right. The heroine's name. It's Hathin.)

Hardinge's prose is jungle-lush and full of imagery: "they swung into battle like leaves on a water eddy"; "the king of tricks hatched in Hathin's brain like a baby dragon"; "a young child's despairing cry drew its serrated edge across Hathin's soul." All the strands of myth and symbol come together in a very satisfying way when the nameless girl defeats the faceless man.

Have I convinced you yet? I've read one other book by Hardinge: Fly By Night. It was pretty good, too; also had an interesting fantasy world with conspiracies and secret organizations and a nobody heroine (named after a housefly). I'm going back to the library to pick up Verdigris Deep, also known as Well Witched. And I just checked out Hardinge's amusing webpage.

The Lost Conspiracy is like a dish I had in Hawaii: mahi-mahi crusted with macademia nuts in a lime/coconut-milk sauce served with mango-pineapple salsa. (Oh, I really want to go back to Hawaii!)

Monster Blood Tattoo, Book 1, The Foundling, by D. M. Cornish

2011-02-13T22:41:00.000-08:00

Imagine a world where the oceans are vinegar, the wilds are infested with monsters of all shapes and sizes, and chemists are people who develop monster-killing compounds. It's a world that has elements of 18th century Holland and a hint of steampunk and a great deal of adventure potential. Cornish is brilliant at world-building, endlessly inventive in his details and gorgeously evocative with his language. A vinegaroon is a sailor, one who plies the vinegar seas. A lahzar is a person who has had their body surgically altered to give them unusual monster-fighting powers, like the ability to throw electricity. A monster blood tattoo is an image of a monster that you killed, using the monster's blood as ink. That is just . . . wicked.

Now into this world throw an orphan boy with a girl's name: Rossamund, the Foundling of the title. He is earnest, bookish and sensitive, but eager to go out into the world and find his place in it. His straightforward plans get derailed, of course, and the rest of the book is one adventure after another as he tries his best to get where he's supposed to go. Some fantasy novels (particularly those written by artists (Cornish began his career as an illustrator)) have characters and plots that are merely an excuse to go wandering around the wonderful fantasy world. Not this one. Rossamund is a compelling protagonist and we are completely invested in his story. The world, rich as it is, unfolds as the necessary backdrop to Rossamund's trials, not as the primary interest of the novel. The supporting characters are all complex and fascinating, and there are mysteries yet to be explained.

Cornish's illustrations are wonderful, conveying a sense of both the characters and the atmosphere.

This is the cover image I found on the web; not the cover of the book I bought, which is dark red-brown with several character portraits. This one is the new North American edition of the series, which, if you look closely, is now called The Foundling's Tale, not Monster Blood Tattoo. I suppose that since librarians and parents are the most likely purchasers of the books, the publishers thought Monster Blood Tattoo might be too off-putting. (If it were 12-year-old boys with the disposable income, there's no question which title is more appealing!)

I'm trying to think of something comparable to Monster Blood Tattoo, but there really isn't anything else like it. You might enjoy it if you like steampunk, even though it isn't steampunk. It's probably the same reading level and similar adventure-style as the Septimus Heap books. There are horror elements, but I was never biting my nails in anxiety. Although it is a dark world and a dark story, there is a certain humour underlying it all. Cornish might just be doing a little satirizing here and there.

I'm going to call this book a thin-crust wood-oven pizza with spinach, garlic, roasted red peppers, pineapple, and feta. Original, multi-flavoured and quite delicious. (Feel free to substitute your own gourmet pizza combination if you don't like mine. Just don't make it pepperoni green pepper extra mozza.)

We interrupt this blog to bring you: The Kneebone Boy

2011-02-09T18:15:00.000-08:00

Yes, I am still working on my review of Foundling, but while I was in the library picking up Monster Blood Tattoo 2, Lamplighter, I noticed that Ellen Potter's The Kneebone Boy was available. I've been looking out for this one, so I picked it up. I just opened it to get a taste, you know, read the first page, see what I'm in for. Well, the Hardscrabble children grabbed me by the throat and wouldn't let me go. I was enjoying it all the way through, and then came the ending and I was blown away. This is a seriously good book!

But I'm not going to review it now because there's a whole queue of book reviews to do first. This is just a teaser!

A cool photographer

2011-02-08T13:28:00.000-08:00

Got lots of reading done in Hawaii! Brought a bunch of e-books on my iPod--though it turns out that e-books aren't the best choice for beach reading (the sun's too bright!) Four of the books I read were the first books of series--what was I thinking?!

I'm working on a review of Foundling, first book in the Monster Blood Tattoo series by D. M. Cornish. I'm reviewing this one first because I now have my hands on Book 2 so I want to immerse myself back into this world. Foundling is 312 pages of text with another 120 pages of appendices--so when I say "immerse" I'm talking ocean rather than bathtub. (Book 2 is even bigger--have you seen it? 500-odd pages not including the appendices.) Cornish apparently spent more than 10 years developing the world of the Half Continent, and it's a completely original fantasy setting. Everyone compares him to Tolkein (appendices, anyone?), and I think it's quite justifiable--but don't think the Half Continent is anything like Middle-Earth.

That's just to whet your appetite. In the meantime check out this photographer. I discovered him in a magazine in the hotel room, but he's Canadian. I love the balloons; they're just so random, and yet somehow right.

Dreamdark Silksinger, by Laini Taylor

2011-01-29T02:29:00.000-08:00

A few days later than promised, and it's going to be short, because it's 2am and I'm leaving for Hawaii tomorrow (but if I'm sleep-deprived I'm more likely to sleep on the plane, right?), but here's the review of the second book in Laini Taylor's Fairies of Dreamdark series.

"Whisper Silksinger knew two kinds of death."

Great opening line, neh? Silksinger continues the story of Magpie Windwitch trying to fix the Tapestry of Creation, but Taylor introduces two new characters. Whisper and Hirik are entirely different from Magpie and Talon: shy, reluctant heroes who are thrust into a quest and have a hard time believing they are capable of achieving it. Their story forms a nice counterpart to Magpie and Talon's on-going action-hero saga. We still get to see plenty of our favourite characters from Blackbringer, and we learn more about this world and its history. There's another great bad guy who I won't say anything about so as not to spoil it, and there's Slomby, who has to pick the leeches off the firedrakes. There's failure and betrayal and people doing things you never thought they would. This story arc gets completed, but the world isn't saved yet, so we can happily anticipate at least one more fascinating, original story about characters I absolutely love.

I'm going to go with beef short ribs as my food metaphor, probably because I recently saw a recipe that looked delicious that I want to try (Braised Short Ribs with Potatoes and Apples Risotto-style). Think sweet-salty-meaty, sink-your-teeth-in, hearty. (I just checked, and I said Blackbringer was like Lamb Tagine, so I'm sticking with the theme here!)

Note: Do not look at the fairies pictured on the front cover and think that you don't want to read this book because it's about fairies. Trust me, these are no fairies you've ever imagined. (I do love the cover, though.)

New Year's Resolution:

2011-01-22T18:48:00.000-08:00

Be more consistent about writing in blog.

So, in an attempt to be disciplined about this, I'm going to promise to write something every Sunday. Tomorrow: the promised review of Fairies of Dreamdark: Silksinger

In the meantime I can tell you that I greatly enjoyed Scott Westerfield's Leviathan and Behemoth, (they're too popular for me to do a full review, since I'm supposed to be recommending lesser-known books). What's not to like in a story with a prince on the run, a girl disguised as a boy, and an airship that's actually a giant floating whale. I love the way Westerfield re-imagines the Allied and Axis powers of WWI as the Darwinists and the Clankers. Tesla cannons, Perspicacious Loraxes, mechanical elephants: it's clever, imaginative, and a whole lot of fun. There were a couple of places in Behemoth where my suspension of disbelief was stretched beyond the breaking point, but once you've swallowed the floating whale, you're pretty much in for the duration!

I'll leave you with some pictures of awesome chairs--who knew there was such cool furniture out there! (And how does one choose which iconic chair to put in the living room?)

The Bouloum Lounge, designed by Olivier Mourgue, made by Arconas (in Canada!):

The Tongue chair, designed by Pierre Paulin, made by Artifort:

The Voido rocking chair, designed by Ron Arad, made by Magis:

Little Globe, designed by Pierre Paulin, made by Artifort:

I got all these images from Hive Modern, a store that makes me wish I lived in Portland.

I saw Never Let Me Go on the plane

2011-01-06T12:42:00.000-08:00

First of all, sorry about the blog hiatus: I just spent two weeks on a family holiday in New York (and the two weeks prior to that were spent planning the holiday)(why is there always so much to do before you go on a trip? The pre-trip stress almost cancels out the trip relaxation!)

I've got a few book recommendations to write: the next Fairies of Dreamdark book by Laini Taylor, and a very unique alternate world fantasy by Hiromi Goto. But I'm still unpacking, and there are relatives in town now, so it'll take me a few days.

But in the meantime I can tell you about the movie I watched on the plane on the way home: Never Let Me Go, based on the book by Kazuo Ishiguro. Wow. What a beautiful, perfectly crafted, exquisite movie. And a total sob-fest: let's just say I'm glad I was half spaced-out on Gravol when I watched it, because otherwise I'd have run out of tissues. (You know from the beginning what's going to happen, so I'm not giving anything away.)

It takes an idea that's been done in various sci-fi guises: we've discovered how to cure all diseases and extend life by creating clones and harvesting their vital organs. But this is not a sci fi movie, not by any means. For one thing, it's set in the 1970's, 80's and 90's in rural England, so it has the feel of a period piece. And it's not about cloning. It's about three characters--clones who have been brought up in a special school where they have a strangely idyllic childhood while preparing for their lives as Donors. It's about their coming of age and their relationships with each other. It's about love, and art, and what it means to be human. It is entirely and in every way brilliant, both in plot and in screenplay and in cinematography and acting and editing. Not that I know much about those things, but I can at least recognize when they're perfectly done (I used that word already, didn't I). Go see this movie, and watch it as a work of art. Yes, it's sad, but it isn't depressing, and it is just so beautiful.

Omnitopia Dawn, by Diane Duane

2010-11-30T09:28:00.000-08:00

I really must stop reading the first books of series when the second books aren't out yet! But this one's safe: no cliffhanger ending.

Omnitopia Dawn is the first book in a series of unspecified length about the creator of a massively multiplayer online game and his fight to save his creation from evil hackers and underhanded corporate competition. Have I lost you yet? It's an adult book, and I was worried when a lot of scenes were set in boardrooms and offices and characters were Chief Financial Officers and suchlike. But not to fear: the true setting is Omnitopia itself, every gamer's perfect fantasy, every fantasy-reader's dream made real. Dev Logan's genius is that he's created a game platform that can be anything, any world you can imagine populated with any characters you can think up. And with his new RealFeel game controller, you can enter the world and feel as though you are there, complete with smelly griffin poop to step in.

It's not an original idea--how can it be, when it's what every video game aspires to--but Duane makes it convincing and oh-so-appealing. So when we find out about the former-friend-turned-corporate-rival who has hired some criminal hackers to bring down Logan's system right when he's rolling out a new expansion, we're invested, we care, we start cheering for the CFO and the programmers and various other employees who rally to face down the threat. And the battle is conducted within Omnitopia, so Dev gets to wield a convincing Sword of Truth, and shutting down attackers' IPOs is rendered as bashing them with clubs etc. (There is definitely some hero/king imagery going on that translates back into the real world in interesting ways. Dev Logan is perhaps a bit too Good to be entirely convincing, but in the end you swallow it because you really want to.)

I'm no computer geek, but Diane Duane seems to know what she's talking about when it comes to the science behind Omnitopia (apparently she once developed a game for Electronic Arts, so she does know whereof she speaks). At any rate, all the programming-speak was realistic enough to fool me. I suspect that if you really enjoy stories about corporate espionage and financial finagling then you'll find this one a little thin, because Omnitopia is all about the magic. Thank goodness!

The story ends satisfactorily (no cliffhangers=much happiness!), but there are intriguing sequel possibilities. In the meantime, if someone would actually develop something like Omnitopia, I would definitely want to play! Guess I'll just have to keep reading fantasy.

Omnitopia Dawn is like chocolate ice cream: fun and satisfying and sweet and you'll definitely want more.

I wasn't kidding about the wall sconces

2010-11-26T18:42:00.000-08:00

So what do you think about this one (by Oggetti Luce), in the same room as that Flor carpet I showed you a few posts ago. Too much with the blue and green squares, or a perfect match?

Then there's this for a reading lamp (by George Kovacs):

Pretty sleek, huh?

I tell you, there are quadrillions of lights out there, and so many of them are phenomenally ugly. But there are enough really cool ones that it's very hard to decide. I am totally thrilled with my dining room fixture, though:

They're handmade right here in Vancouver by Bocci. I'm going to have 3 blue ones and 2 clear ones randomly arranged in an oval. Yes, they're expensive, but that's okay, we won't be buying furniture for a while! (When you all come over we can sit on the floor under the wonderful light fixture. :))

I seem to be going with a blue and green theme . . . hope my modernist architects (my sister and brother-in-law)(S2 Studio, if you're looking for an architect) don't mind!

Life Interferes With Blog. But I read Pegasus! And Blackout and All Clear

2010-11-23T10:54:00.000-08:00

One really must be disciplined with this blogging thing. I have problems with discipline. My title makes it sound like I've been doing interesting things that haven't allowed me time to write blog entries, but I don't imagine anyone will find choosing kitchen sinks and wall sconces and shopping for bras with my daughter very interesting. (The bras were for me, as part of my daughter's on-going attempts to make me fashionable: apparently fashion these days requires Extreme Push-up and Beyond Cleavage bras.)(Is this too much info for a blog?) I've also been planning our Christmas trip to New York: the internet is wonderful for trip planning, but you have to wonder when it takes longer to plan the trip than the trip itself will last!

The upshot of all this non-interesting stuff is that I haven't read nearly so much lately. But there are still a few things I can talk about:

Pegasus, by Robin McKinley. I've been looking forward to this one for a while, and I celebrated its release with a Pegasus Release Celebration, and finally I got around to reading it. And it was as lovely as promised: princess and pegasi; what more do you need to know? But I find I can't say very much about it, because the story's not done. This is Volume 1 of a promised two volumes, and it ends right when things start getting interesting. What we get in Pegasus is a lot of world-building. It's a beautiful world (just look at the cover of the book), and I was happy to spend time in it. But nothing bad actually happens until the very last scene, so I feel as though I've read a very long prologue, and the book ends after chapter one. There are a lot of interesting ideas and relationships developed, and I can't wait to see what McKinley does with them. I'm just going to have to be patient, since Pegasus II isn't due until 2012. Stay tuned! (I'm going to call Pegasus creme brulee--sweet and simple with the complex underlayers of vanilla bean; and I'm anticipating that Vol 2 will be somewhat more chocolatey.)

Blackout and All Clear, by Connie Willis. Willis does the same thing McKinley does with this latest duo--cutting the story in half and publishing it as two books, but I was more patient and didn't read Blackout when it came out last year. Thank goodness. I don't think I would have bothered re-reading it this year in order to get up to speed before the sequel, and I would have missed out. Much like Willis' earlier novel Passage, Blackout spends most of its time following characters back and forth in futile quests to do apparently irrelevant things. It's deliberately confusing about who, where, and when, and reading it on my iPod meant it was harder to flip back and forth trying to figure out what I should have remembered from previous chapters. It's a time travel novel, set in the same world as Doomesday Book, Fire Watch, and To Say Nothing of the Dog, so Mr. Dunworthy is back, and so's Colin, (and so is St. Paul's cathedral) and we get three new characters going back to different points in WWII. Because I had read these other books, and Passage, I decided to stick with the confusion and frustration and keep reading, because when Willis finally gets to her pay-off it's usually worth it (and all the confusion and frustration are actually necessary in order to appreciate the pay-off). I have to say that All Clear's payoff wasn't as heart-stoppingly wonderful as Passage, but I still liked it. And I have a whole new appreciation for what England went through during WWII. That's really what this duo is: a paeon of praise to British courage and resiliance, and it's worth reading just for that. I wish we had seen more of Colin than we do--in fact, I wish Blackout had been shorter and All Clear longer--but I would still classify this as a must-read for Willis fans. (If you haven't read Connie Willis yet, don't start with these. Try Doomesday Book if you want something serious, and To Say Nothing of the Dog if you want really funny.) I can't make a food analogy for Blackout and All Clear, because they were set during rationing, so I'd have to use something nasty with cabbage! Rather, I'll compare it to those really good war movies that make you cheer for ordinary people doing heroic things. And now I want to go watch the movie Enigma.

I picked up the new Diane Duane book last week, and I just discovered Kirkus's Best Books for Teens 2010, so there's a lot of reading I want to do, but I'm working on an editing project and I'm trying to be good and do my own writing, so I may not have another review for a while. Maybe I'll do a post about wall sconces!

(I'm not so good with the putting photos in the blog; sorry for the weird formatting.)

Internet + Books = Community

2010-11-14T17:27:00.000-08:00

or: The Pegasus Release Celebration was a rousing success!

People worry about the potential of the internet to isolate and socially stunt us, but here's proof that it also brings us together and creates friendships.

I posted my PRC announcement on Robin McKinley's blog and also invited people I know in Vancouver who like YA fantasy, and we ended up with seven people crowded around a table at Aphrodite's Pie Company. (Three had never read McKinley, so I count them as new converts!) We had writers, editors, a musician, a web designer, a doll maker, and someone who makes kids book apps for iPhones. Half the table got into a rousing conversation about favourite tenors, we all recommended books to each other, and we had a great discussion about the creative process and how it differs from music to writing. Oh, and we ate pie!

Then someone mentioned a place called Cocoa Nymph that was just a few blocks away, and everyone felt we needed to make a pilgrimage.

You can see why.

It's even a real piano!

Here we got to know each other a little better and discovered some interesting synergies. Some of us may end up working with each other on different collaborative projects. You never know what might happen when you show up for something like this!

The end of the afternoon was entirely predictable, since White Dwarf Books (all sci fi/fantasy) was a few doors down from Cocoa Nymph. We all felt good about supporting local independent bookstores, chocolate shops and pie places, and we parted with a firm commitment to meet again soon!

This is why I haven't read anything today

2010-11-10T01:12:00.000-08:00

And what is it, you might ask? It's a carpet. It's the new carpet for our media room. I just designed it on the Interface FLOR website.

Or it might be our new carpet. There are an infinite number of other possible combinations. The night is young! (Okay, it's 1am. I will go to bed, I promise.)

Tomorrow I have to buy youngest son a Scout uniform, because he's now 11, so he doesn't want to wear his Cub uniform to the Remembrance Day parade. And I have to buy shoes for daughter who is going to Semi-Formal tomorrow night (we never had "Semi-Formal" when I was in high school--I think it's a conspiracy of dress and shoe stores), and now needs flats because her boyfriend is shorter than her.

None of these things are remotely connected, but it's 1am and everything feels imbued with extra significance. I think what it means is that my kids still need me but they won't for much longer. (Not sure how the carpet fits into that, but it can be symbolic. Of something. Infinite possibilities, maybe. And how I can try to design my children's possibilities for them, but they'll take the carpet tiles I give them and turn them into something I never would have imagined.)

(Don't you love how your mind can always find connections between things, no matter how random. It's what our brains were designed to do.)

Okay. I really will go to bed now.

Pegasus celebration update

2010-11-03T20:04:00.000-07:00

Time has now been changed to 3pm, still on Saturday, Nov. 13.

Location is now confirmed: Aphrodite's Pie Company, Vancouver, 4th and Dunbar.

Date and time are Sat, Nov 13, 1:00pm. I'll let you know when we decide on a coffee shop. (I was going to try for a bookstore to host, but Kidsbooks is too busy in November (have you seen their lineup of visiting authors? Wow.), and I wasn't ambitious enough to go downtown to Chapters.) I suppose I could go to the Park Royal Chapters, but that would be less central. Besides, there's something cosier about a coffee shop.

The more the merrier, though, so even if you're not a Robin McKinley fan, come anyway! (It's okay, we'll try to convert you.)

Pegasus is coming! Let's celebrate!

2010-10-29T13:49:00.000-07:00

I thought it would take forever, but it's almost November, and Robin McKinley's latest is almost out. Here are three sample chapters. (Isn't the cover gorgeous?) I am very excited, but I'm hesitating just a bit on this one, because Robin has warned us about the horrible cliffhanger ending. It's not going to be one of those this-battle's-over-but-the-war-continues cliffhangers: it's a stop-in-the-middle-of-the-story cliffhanger. And she's not finished writing the second book (she promises there will be only two books), so it could be years before it comes out! What to do . . . what to do . . .

Aw, heck, I know I'm going to read Pegasus right away, there's no way I have the discipline to wait! I'll just have to suffer along with everyone else.

In celebration of Pegasus's release date (Nov 2), I'd love to get together with anyone in the Lower Mainland (Vancouver, BC) and eat baking and talk about Robin McKinley (if you've read Sunshine you'll know why the baking is necessary). (Not that baking wouldn't always be necessary!). Since Tuesday might be a difficult day to get together, I propose Saturday, Nov 6. Is there anyone else out there in Vancouver who's a big Robin McKinley fan? Let me know and we'll have a party!

Darkness in Children's Literature: How Much is Too Much?

2010-10-26T22:34:00.000-07:00

I just read a great post by Book Aunt that tracks the increasing numbers of dark, scary, creepy, or violent books written for children and young adults. Coincidentally, I was at the Surrey International Writer's Conference this weekend, and a panel on children's books spent a fair bit of time discussing this trend. Book Aunt raised a couple of questions that were also asked of the panel: does one have to write dark stuff now in order to get published? And, is it the kid readers who are driving this trend, or is it adult writers/publishers/readers/reviewers? Underlying all the discussions, I think, is the question of whether this is a worrying trend or not.

Now, as a reader, I have no problems with creepy. I don't do horror (a la Stephen King or Silence of the Lambs), but I loved Gaimon's The Graveyard Book and Coraline. The book I'm reading right now (The Hunchback Assignments) opens with the line, "Six hunting hounds had perished in previous experiments," and the first chapter is titled, "Abomination," and I went, "oooooh, goody!"

I do not think children should only be given nice, sweet books that are good for them. I think that childhood is a scary place and the world is a scary place, and I believe that stories about monsters are important ways for children to deal with real fears (was it Bruno Bettleheim or C. S. Lewis who said that?). And besides, books aren't very much fun if they don't have nasty villains.

However. I'm sure we all agree that a line should be drawn between what's appropriately scary or violent and what's too scary for children of a certain age. No one would think a ten-year-old should watch Pulp Fiction, nor do I think anyone would give The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo to a 14-year-old. But beyond the really extreme cases, it becomes more difficult. My grade four teacher thought the Boris Karloff Frankenstein movie was innocuous enough to show our class for Halloween. I had nightmares for weeks after. My 10-year-old son finds the Daleks on Doctor Who terrifying. ("Come on," I say, "its weapons are a toilet plunger and an egg beater!" But they strike a chord of fear with him.) And yet he saw Lord of the Rings when he was 8, and it didn't bother him. If I found Mockingjay too violent for my 40-something self, does that mean it shouldn't have been published as YA? (I'm trying to find the blog that had a whole discussion about this a month or so ago, but I can't remember where it was!)

There isn't really any way to say, We shouldn't let kids read This, because how can we define This (and who are We, anyway?). But if We are publishers, booksellers, librarians, I'm thinking it's pretty important to package and categorize books in a way that lets the reader know what they're in for. (If people hadn't warned me about how violent Girl with the Dragon Tattoo is, I wouldn't have known to skip the rape scene, and there would be images in my head I really wouldn't want.) (And I'm starting to think we need a new category--Older YA or something--to cover teen books that have more sex and violence than some teens might want to read.)

And if We are writers and editors, we come up against the question of how to create scary nasty villains and situations without making them too scary for our audience. The discussion at the Writer's Conference ended with the thought that, whatever the level of violence or fear, children's (and even YA) books should always have some element of hope. My son deals with Dalek nightmares by pretending he has a magic wand that sends them back to outer space. The most horrible of evils can be defeated. Faith, friendship, determination and courage are always stronger than corruption and tyranny. Could this be why I read children's books?

I Shall Wear Midnight, by Terry Pratchett

2010-10-25T14:41:00.000-07:00

I know I said I was going to focus on less-well-known authors, but this is one of those cases where I have to squee a bit about someone who is rightfully famous. And perhaps Terry Pratchett's YA books are less well-known than his adult ones, so maybe this counts.

In any case, GO READ THE WEE FREE MEN. And then come back and we can talk.

So. Now that you've read the first Tiffany Aching book, you'll want to go on to A Hat Full of Sky and then Wintersmith. Now. Do you see what I mean?

I love Tiffany Aching. From our first introduction to her, where she sees a monster in the creek so she goes and gets a frying pan, sets her younger brother out as bait, and whacks the monster on the head with a clang ("It was a good clang, with the oiyoiyoioioioioioinnnnngggggggg that is the mark of a clang well done"), you know this is a character whose head you want to be in. She's eleven years old, and she decides she wants to be a witch when she finds out about an old woman who was turned out of her house and died in the snow because people suspected her of being a witch.

"Tell me why you still want to be a witch, bearing in mind what happened to Mrs Snapperly?"

"So that sort of thing doesn't happen again."

She even buried the old witch's cat, thought Miss Tick. What kind of child is this?

Tiffany thinks, and she cares, and she pays attention to detail. She loves words like susurrus. And now that I'm in chapter one looking for more quotations, I think I'll just reread the whole book . . .

I love Pratchett's concept of witchcraft: the way Tiffany learns to use her First Thoughts and Second Thoughts and Third Thoughts, and "open your eyes, then open your eyes again." I love the memory of Granny Aching, who wasn't exactly a witch, but was there, and did what had to be done, and never lost a lamb. "Witches deal with things."

Then if all that wasn't enough, we get the Nac Mac Feegle. Just say that out loud. You have to read a book that has Nac Mac Feegle in them. Nothing I say about them will do them justice--but that's okay, you've already read The Wee Free Men, so you know what I mean.

And all this was supposed to be a review of I Shall Wear Midnight, the fourth Tiffany Aching book. So if I'm preaching to the converted, and you just want to know if the latest book lives up to our expectations for Tiffany: it does. Tiffany is now sixteen and living back with her family as the witch of the Chalk. There is realistic character development as she tries to fit herself into her new responsibility, and we're cheering for her. The ante is upped yet again, with an even more frightening villain: this book is the darkest of the four, because what Tiffany faces isn't just supernatural; it's the evil in men's hearts. But I was still laughing out loud on almost every page, unless I was crying. Sometimes both at once. There's a scene near the end that perfectly illustrates what I mean (it doesn't give any plot away):

There was a general murmuring from the other Feegles, on the broad theme of slaughter for whoever laid a hand on a Feegle mound, and how personally each and every one of them would regret what he would have to do.

"It's yon troosers" said Slightly-Thinner -Than-Fat-Jock-Jock. "Once a man gets a Feegle up his troosers, his time of trial and tribulation is only just beginning." . . .

Later in the conversation:

There was a glint in Wee Mad Arthur's eye that prompted Tiffany to ask, "How exactly did they commit suicide?"

The policeman Feegle shrugged his small broad shoulders. "They took a shovel to a Feegle mound, miss. I am a man who knows the law, miss. I never saw a mound until I met these fine gentlemen, but even so my blood boils, miss, it boils, so it does. My heart it does thump, my pulse it does race, and my gorge it arises like the breath of some dragon at the very thought of a bright steel shovel slicing though the clay of a Feegle mound, cutting and crushing. I would kill the man that does this, miss. I would kill him dead, and chase him through the next life to kill him another time, and I would do it again and again, because it would be the sin o' sins, to kill an entire people, and one death wouldnae be enough for recompense. However, as I am an aforesaid man of the law, I very much hope that the current misunderstanding can be resolved withoot the need for wholesale carnage and bloodletting and screaming and wailing and weeping and people having bits of themselves nailed to trees, such as has never been seen before, ye ken?"

Pratchett has such complete command of tone that it's possible to have tears of laughter streaming down your face while at the same time catching your breath with sympathetic horror, and in fact the horror is more real because the laughter has engaged your sympathy. Have I mentioned that I love the Nac Mac Feegles?

I Shall Wear Midnight is a very satisfying conclusion to the Tiffany Aching books, and now I think I'll reread all four of them, with a pen and paper to write down all the great little lines that I think I'll remember and then don't.

This series is like a really good breakfast buffet, with fresh pancakes and waffles and bacon and sausages and porridge made with cream and fruit and everything. And cheese, can't forget the cheese.

Two days until Cryoburn!

2010-10-17T18:15:00.000-07:00

Bonus post! Look what I just found: Chapters has an "interview" between Lois McMaster Bujold and her famous character Miles Vorkosigan to promote Cryoburn, the latest book in the Vorkosigan Saga. (Click on Read More in the From the Author section.) If you haven't discovered Miles yet, I highly recommend starting with Warrior's Apprentice, or if you don't want to go that far back, Komarr isn't a bad place to meet him. Let's just say that if the YA Fantasy Showdown had included Adult Sci Fi, Miles would have held his own against both Eugenides and Howl, and I love those characters, so that's saying a lot. (Hmmm. I wonder what Miles vs Ender would be like . . .)

Books are My Drug of Choice, Part 2: Getting High

2010-10-17T17:41:00.000-07:00

The ability to escape reality through books is reason enough for them to be addictive. But books are also like heroine: they don't just offer oblivion; they produce a high. And it's the high that I keep coming back for.

Exciting, page-turning adventures have an obvious high: the suspense of watching good guys escape bad guys, solve mysteries and battle monsters (or unpleasant people) sends real adrenaline through my veins. And, generally speaking, the good guys win, which creates a rush of euphoria.

But even quieter books without monsters or battles gave their own types of high. For one thing, reading allows me to identify completely with a character--not only do I experience that character's emotions, but I also take on character traits that I might not always exemplify in real life. I get to feel courageous, or honorable, or compassionate, or clever. Characters have flaws, of course, but ultimately even the tragic heroes have at least one redeeming quality that it feels good to identify with. It feels good to stand up for what's right, to defend the underdog, to discover the truth, to not give in. When Jane Eyre determines to leave Mr. Rochester--"Still indomitable was the reply--'I care for myself.'" When Molly Weasly cries, "NOT MY DAUGHTER YOU B*TCH!" (Best use of a swear word in fiction, ever!) I get to feel moral strength, or righteous anger, and that is a high.

The second type of high that all works of fiction produce, regardless of genre or style or plot, just by virtue of being a story, is a sense of significance. Ordinary life doesn't always feel imbued with purpose or meaning. The truly worthwhile goals (raising decent children, developing one's character) are pretty long-term, and it can be hard to see the point of most day-to-day minutiae (and a lot of it is simply pointless). A story has a point. It has meaning; that's what makes it a story. The events come together in a climax, the characters progress to an epiphany, everything that happens is meant to happen. Whatever moral centre the book rests on, it has a moral centre. There are protagonists and antagonists. Fantasy is particularly good at drawing clear lines between good and evil--how many times have I looked up from a book and wished there were some orcs to fight or a sword to go find--then I'd know exactly what I was supposed to do! But even in realistic stories without obvious good guys and bad guys, there is a conflict to be won, and the protagonist wins it--or loses it but finally understands. Meaning is wrested from the chaos of events.

Our brains are wired to need significance, and stories fill that need. I for one, need rather frequent doses of this particular prescription.

Recent books that have given meaning to my life:

Toads and Diamonds, by Heather Tomlinson: A very unique and exotic retelling of the fairy tale.
Soulless, by Gail Carriger: You wouldn't think it from the title, but this one's hilarious. And a romance.
Crocodile on the Sandbank, by Elizabeth Peters: I have discovered Miss Amelia Peabody, Egyptologist and crime solver.
Whose Body? by Dorothy L. Sayers: I have also discovered Lord Peter Wimsey, sort of a cross between Sherlock Holmes and Columbo, what?
A Matter of Magic, by Patricia C. Wrede: Contains Mairelon the Magician and its sequel, The Magician's Ward, which is just as much fun.

The Incorrigible Children of Ashton Place, The Mysterious Howling, by Maryrose Wood

2010-10-12T14:42:00.000-07:00

I picked this book up for the title: I love intriguing titles. Then I met Miss Penelope Lumley, and I was hooked.

A cross between Mary Poppins and Jane Eyre with a dash of Edgar Allen Poe, The Incorrigible Children of Ashton Place: The Mysterious Howling is funny, surprising, and mysterious. We begin with Miss Penelope Lumley, a recent graduate of the Swanburne Academy for Poor Bright Females, taking a train ride to her first job interview. She worries that the train may be attacked by bandits, that she might forget the capitals of European countries, or that she might "end up with marmalade all over the front of her dress and run from the room weeping," but it soon becomes apparent that Miss Lumley is "much, much more than her current circumstances would indicate." Upon meeting the children under her care and discovering that they have been raised by wolves, she is "not in the least bit alarmed." After all, she has "spent many a useful hour assisting Dr. Westminster," the Swanburne veterinarian. She is appalled that the children are being kept in the barn: "they had plenty of hay and the saddle blankets for warmth--but no watercolor paints? No decks of cards? Not a single book to pass the time? . . .To Penelope's way of thinking, it approached the barbaric."

I fell in love with Penelope's original thinking and strength of character, and I loved watching her gentleness tame the three children (they are soon reading poetry and learning Latin, of course). But all is not well at Ashton Place, for there is a mystery concerning the unpleasant Lord Fredrick, and he appears to have evil intentions regarding the children, which Penelope must try to thwart. There is a gloriously comical and suspenseful Christmas ball: poetry is recited to much chaos, gentlemen go hunting, something is almost discovered in the attic, and a squirrel is adopted. We are left, however, with a number of compelling questions: Where did the children come from? Where did Penelope come from? What or who is hiding in the attic? Why does Lord Frederick keep consulting the almanack, and where was he during the Christmas party? Alas, we must wait for a sequel! Luckily, Maryrose Wood appears to be a fast writer, and The Incorrigible Children of Ashton Place: The Hidden Gallery, is coming out in Feb 2011. In the meantime, I'm going to check out her teen novels.

Oh, I forgot to make a food metaphor! TICAP:TMH (I really didn't want to write the whole thing out again!) is like sticky toffee pudding: sweet and delicious with hidden chewy depths, and oh, so very British. (And did I mention it's hilarious?)

Books are My Drug of Choice, Part 1: Escapism

2010-10-05T12:30:00.000-07:00

Perhaps I ought to amend my goal to blogging once a week. Eh, heh.

I recently reported on a book binge, which I said I was coming off of. Not entirely accurate. In the spirit of confession (not that I'm repenting!), a brief case history of my particular disease:

When I've had a bad day, or a bad week, when I'm feeling particularly down on myself, when I have something unpleasant to do that I just can't bring myself to deal with, when other people might head to the bar to get some temporary forgetfulness, I go to the library.

I don't drink, so I can't authoritatively compare the oblivion of a book to that of the bottle, but I submit that there are similarities. (I even get book hangovers from staying up far too late reading!) I am able to submerse myself so effectively in the alternate reality of a novel that if I am interrupted (and you have to be loud and insistent if you want to get my attention) it takes me a few seconds to remember where and who I am. I substitute the emotions of the characters for my own emotions, take on their problems instead of my own problems, and feel a genuine sense of accomplishment when they succeed. (Do you get that feeling from alcohol?)

Unfortunately, I read very quickly, so the story ends and I've only escaped my own misery for a few hours. And after the satisfying conclusion to the fictional characters' adversity, my unsolved problems seem even more onerous and unsolvable. So I pick up another book. Not to read it, of course, since I've already wasted more time than I should. I just want to look at the cover and feel the heft of the pages. I might read the front flap, just to get an idea of what it might be about. And maybe the first page, to see if the writing is any good. Two hours later, I emerge blinking dazedly from another universe to find that my problems are two hours further from being solved, and now it's dinnertime and there's no food in the house, and I haven't even showered yet today, and the kids are late for music lessons. The kids (and the husband) are also miffed at having been completely ignored for hours on end. (I was once reading a book while my two-year-old played with blocks, and he got so frustrated with my inattention that he dumped the entire container of blocks over my head.) But I don't really want to deal with their unhappiness, so I reach for another book . . .

Books may be safer than alcohol as a means of escape, but I can tell you from first-hand experience that books are addictive and a book addiction leads to damaged relationships and destructive behaviour!

Sigh. Here are some books I've used lately to avoid talking to my family (yes, I've read all these since the last long list of books, and no, this isn't all I've read, it's just the ones I'd recommend):

Dealing With Dragons and Searching for Dragons, Patricia C. Wrede: first two books of the Enchanted Forest series, lighthearted plays on fairy-tale conventions. Good fun. Also her Mairelon the Magician, a magical Victorian comedy of errors.
Wake and Fade, Lisa McMann: I need to get the third book; these are page-turners with supernatural crime solving and romance.
Finnikin of the Rock, Melina Marchetta: dark, epic fantasy about refugees from a cursed kingdom. Should have been a trilogy but she packs it all into one book. Original story, great world-building, intense characters.
Tomorrow, When the War Began, John Marsden: post-apocolyptic adventure set in Australia, first of a series. Exciting, realistic adventure.
The Incorrigible Children of Ashton Place, Maryrose Wood: this one's worth a blog post.

Blackbringer, by Laini Taylor

2010-09-24T13:46:00.000-07:00

Fairies of Dreamdark, Blackbringer finally arrived at my local bookstore, and I gobbled it down. I wouldn't have picked this book up had it not been recommended by someone: I don't normally find fairies appealing. But these are not normal fairies! Okay, they're small and have wings, but Magpie is a seriously kick-butt heroine! She hunts devils for fun. Yes, there are devils in this story, and Djinn, and glyphs and thespian crows and magic knitting needles. Taylor is brilliant at taking elements from all sorts of folk-tales and mythology and weaving them into an entirely original world.

The Djinn created the world and filled it with animals and birds and fairies and imps and elementals. Some nasty devils got made, too, but fairy champions caught them all and imprisoned them in bottles. Then the Djinn went to sleep. Thousands of years later, humans started opening the bottles and letting the devils out. (I love how this is an amalgamation of Pandora and Aladdin.)

Magpie is the granddaughter of the West Wind, and so she has more skills and magic than the average fairy. She takes it upon herself to recapture the released devils, with the help of a troop of crows (they also perform plays, but Magpie has serious stagefright). She's caught twenty-three devils so far, but the latest one is different. It might be more than she can handle. So she returns the fairy homeland, the forest of Dreamdark, to look for the Djinn King, Magruwen. Maybe she can wake him up and get him to help.

I love Magpie's language: she's a Scottish/Shakespearean fairy with street-cred. I love that Magpie's parents are fairy archaeologists/ethnologists, travelling the world to find and record fairy magic before it is lost forever. I love Magpie's encounters with the Magruwen, a frighteningly powerful being who is confounded by her stubbornness and goodness. I love the scavenger imp Batch Hangnail, who can't be called a traitor because he has no loyalty to anyone but himself.

If I have a complaint about this book, it's that it isn't long enough! I would love to see more of the warrior prince Talon and how he learns to fly. There's a fascinating subplot about a usurper of the fairy throne that could have its own book devoted to it. Then there's Bellatrix, the fairy champion, and her tragic love story. And dragons: there are dragons!

This book is like lamb tagine (or, if you don't like lamb and don't know what a tagine is, how about chicken mole)(and if you don't know what chicken mole is, go find a good Mexican restaurant and find out!): it's layered with multiple, complex flavours, it's meaty and spicy, it's wholly unexpected the first time you try it, but then it becomes must-have comfort food.

I've ordered the next book, Silksinger, and I can't wait to delve more deeply into this fascinating world. It looks like there will be a new set of characters, but we'll still get to see what Magpie and Talon are up to. *Rubs hands together gleefully.* Go read this book!

Anne Ursu, The Shadow Thieves and The Siren Song

2010-09-19T20:20:00.000-07:00

These are the first two books in a new trilogy that I hadn't heard of: I came across The Shadow Thieves while browsing my local library. The cover isn't very appealing, but the title was intriguing, and as soon as I read the first page I knew I'd like this author. She's funny, snarky, and her characters are very real. Here's a sample:

So, sometimes really bad things happen and, for reasons that are rather complicated, you're the only one who can stop them. And sometimes, in order to do so, you have to sneak out of the house late at night to get to the Underworld. And on those occasions, you, because you are a conscientious person, leave your parents a note explaining that you know what's making everyone sick and you have to go save the world. Helpfully, you also tell them you love them and not to worry.

The problem is, your parents don't really listen to this last part, and when you finally get back the next morning . . . after Philonecron tried to throw you in the Styx, a few monsters tried to eat you, you met up with the Lord of the Underworld, and a whole shadow army tried to bring his palace down on your head--well, you find out that they have, in fact, worried. A lot.

That's from the second book, The Siren Song, when we discover that after Charlotte and her cousin Zee successfully save the world from the evil Philonecron (who is stealing children's shadows to create an army to defeat Hades), her parents ground her forever.

Yes, this is another book using Greek mythology in a modern setting. The difference between The Chronus Chronicles and the Percy Jackson series is that Charlotte and Zee are not demigods. They don't suddenly develop magical powers, and when they get thrown into the world of myth they have to defeat the bad guys with courage, luck, and stubbornness. And their parents don't understand. The plots are fairly original, the mythological people are fun (Poseidon sails around the Mediterranean on a very tacky luxury yacht), and there's enough action and adventure to keep the pages turning, but what I loved about these books was how convincing the main characters were. Plus the voice: loved the voice. (But then I'm a sucker for snarky humour.)

These books are like chocolate- and peanut butter- covered pretzels: sweet and salty and addictive. Worth being better known. Now I have to convince my library to get the third book.

Book Binge

2010-09-16T08:02:00.000-07:00

Oops! My goal was to blog twice a week, and already it's been 8 days since my last blog. This whole regular, disciplined thing is obviously going to be a challenge!

I'm just coming off a book binge that's lasted more than a month. (Summer is over, and I actually have to get up in the morning and drive the kids to school. Sleep deprived is not a good look for me.) I think I might do a whole blog post on books=alchohol, or even books=heroin, but I suspect that for a lot of people in this corner of the blogosphere you already know exactly what I'm talking about!

Here's a by no means complete list of the better stuff I've read lately (you know it's been a bad binge when you can't even remember what you read last week!)

Mockingbird, Suzanne Collins. Really good, but oh. Wow.
The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, Stieg Larsson. Wasn't going to read this, but my husband liked it so much I started it and got hooked. (I could see the rape scene coming and just skipped over it.)
Clockwork Angel. New one by Cassandra Clare. Similar plot and characters to the Mortal Instruments, but I still enjoyed it and it wasn't too predictable.
The Shadow Thieves, Anne Ursu. Think I'm going to do a blog post on this one.
Half Brother, by Kenneth Oppel. Intriguing idea.
I Am Number Four, Pittacus Lore. Started reading it in a bookstore and had to buy it to find out what happens next. Not jumping up and down good, but fun.
Wintersmith, Terry Pratchett. A reread. I can always reread Pratchett. Love the Nac Mac Feegles. And Horace the Cheese. Where does he come up with this stuff?
The Adventures of Ook and Gluk, Kung-Fu Cavemen From the Future, Dav Pilkey (I mean, George and Harold). Not as brain-explodingly funny as The Adventures of Super Diaper Baby, but still, deserves its place on the shelf.
The Book Thief, Markus Zusak. Read this one for book club, and wouldn't have finished it otherwise, because the style was driving me crazy. But I'm glad I did, because it's a beautiful story. Best last line ever.
Passage, Connie Willis. A reread, but it's been so long it was like the first time. Loved it. Can't think of a superlative to do it justice.
Thirteenth Child, Patricia C. Wrede. Great fun, great world.

I know there's more, but I'm blanking out. Oh, well, this gives you enough to go on, doesn't it?

Book Reviews?

2010-09-08T16:19:00.000-07:00

I've been discovering the YA blogosphere lately. (Did you catch the YA Fantasy Showdown? Is that not the most brilliant idea ever? I stayed up until 3 in the morning reading all the battle scenes, and it made my life that the final showdown was between Eugenides and Howl--the website authors' imagining of that battle was hilarious!) Okay, so I'm a little late to the scene, but it's not for lack of interest!

I've thought about joining the ranks of YA book reviewers. But the trouble with reviewing books is that sometimes you have to read and review books you don't like. I review kids' lit for a Canadian online journal, because I think it's important to contribute to the conversation about YA lit, (especially in Canada, where the community is small and we can use all the voices we can get). But it is hard to come up with fair, yet honest appraisals of books that just aren't very good. And, call me lazy, call me a hedonist, but I don't want to spend my blogging time doing hard, unpleasant things!

So I'm not going to be a Book Reviewer. I'm just going to tell you about the books I love! Maybe you can call me a Book Recommender. I'm the one who overhears conversations in bookstores and has to jump in: "Oh, that's a great one, and have you read this other one by the same author?" (Maybe I should have been a librarian.) I'm going to make a point of recommending books that you might not have heard of (though I may occasionally have to say "Read Megan Whalen Turner," because I won't be able to help myself). I'll consider it my duty to bring unsung brilliance to everyone's notice.

I've already added too many books to my TBR pile because of other bloggers; now it's time to return the favour!

Laini Taylor, my new favourite author

2010-09-04T22:34:00.000-07:00

It's only fitting that my first blog entry should be about Laini Taylor, because her website is what inspired me to create this blog in the first place. I discovered Laini Taylor via Robin McKinley's blog (she's also a favourite author), because someone on her forum recommended the book Blackbringer. My library didn't have it, but they did have Lips Touch Three Times, and this book hooked me from the first taste.

It's a beautiful book: the cover is evocative and striking, everything about the design is enticing, but then you turn past the title page and you get a gorgeous illustration by Jim Di Bartolo (Ms. Taylor's husband). He reminds me of Trina Schart Hyman. And then you turn the page and there's another one. In fact, a whole little story told only in pictures. Then Taylor's story begins, and it's juicy and spicy and surprising and delicious. It's like eating a summer-ripe peach, one that's so exquisitely flavoured it gives you shivers.

And that's just the first story. Lips Touch Three Times is a collection of three novellas, each entirely different, each set in a differently-flavoured fantasy world, all centering around a kiss. What a brilliant concept! And these worlds: Taylor borrows from Slavic and Hindu and Roma and I don't know what other mythologies to create her very own fully-realized universes. Which Di Bartolo illustrates perfectly with his introductory graphic stories. You could set ten-volume fantasy epics in each world. Yet this sense of depth, of excess, of reality makes each story completely satisfying. You don't need more: each story is exactly the story that needed to be told.

My favourite of the three stories is "Spicy Little Curses Such as These." It has the best title, ever, don't you think? The first chapter is called "The Demon and the Old Bitch," and it just gets better from there.

I'm not going to say more because my words aren't doing Taylor justice. I've ordered Blackbringer from my local bookstore, and I can't wait until it comes in. Taylor joins the list of writers I'll buy instantly, no questions asked.

I've started a blog!

2010-09-01T16:57:00.000-07:00

(The world pauses momentarily to acknowledge the momentousness of the occasion.)

It's called Dead Houseplants, not because wasting my time on the internet results in neglecting the daily tasks that keep my plants (and me) alive--though this is true. (Those who know me will find the title obvious in the extreme.)

The Dead Houseplants I mean are the ones in my brain: those aspects of my personality that have been quietly shrivelling away because I'm too lazy to pay attention to them. I want to use the discipline imposed on me by the blog format to drip-irrigate myself.

I've been inspired by other blogs with wonderful titles like Creating Wings, about people reinventing themselves, finding their inner goddesses, all that good stuff. Perhaps my title doesn't indicate quite enough faith in the process, but it's where I'm at. I generally have to sneak up on myself when I'm trying self-improvement; if I think too hard about it I'll talk myself out of it. I haven't given this blog much thought at all.

My goal is to blog twice a week. (Really? I just made that up now. Is that realistic? We shall see.) I expect to talk a lot about books, but I might throw in stuff about gardening or dancing tango or green architecture or music. Maybe a bit of religion or philosophy, if I'm feeling particularly profound. Mostly what I hope to do is find and share cool, inspiring things, thus reminding myself that the world is full of cool, inspiring things, and that I might be one of them.