Showing posts with label humour. Show all posts
Showing posts with label humour. Show all posts

Friday, November 15, 2024

MMGM: The Demon Sword Asperides, by Sarah Jean Horowitz

First off, this title is the best, isn't it? The catchy rhythm, the intriguing concept. Who doesn't want to read a story about a demon sword? And Asperides does not disappoint. World-weary, hell-weary, bitter and sarcastic—I loved the voice and perspective of a sword wielded for centuries by power-hungry villains.

Particularly when this sword ends up in the hands of a hapless, naive boy. Nack Furnival is desperate to prove himself to his family of brave knights, but he's really no good at sword fighting. It's easy for Asperides to trick Nack into believing he's an angel sword, and off Nack charges on a quest to right wrongs and save the innocent. Meanwhile an evil sorcerer has been resurrected, and he wants his sword back. Shenanigans ensue.

The Demon Sword Asperides is very funny—lots of snarky commentary from the sword, lots of hilarious juxtapositions of assumptions and intentions along with great slapstick and situational comedy. But it's also very—I want to say sweet, but I don't want you to think it's saccharine. Maple syrup sweet—it has depth and complexity. I'm willing to compare it to Terry Pratchett's humour, because there is real character growth and some pointed commentary about the world underlying the shenanigans.

I don't want to spoil anything, but Asperides has his own character arc. His relationship with Nack is the best kind of starts-off-unequal-with-deception-and-trickery turning into genuine care and each changing the other for the better. Nack learns that the heroes he worshipped might not be worthy of him and gets to choose who and what he values, including valuing himself. Satisfying all around.

I picked this one up from the library while waiting for The Dark Lord Clementine, which I am now even more eager to get my hands on. If you like Ursula Vernon and Eva Ibbotsen, Sarah Jean Horowitz will be right up your alley.

Marvelous Middle-Grade Monday is a long-running feature hosted by Greg Pattrige at Always In The Middle. Be sure to check out all the other great middle-grade recommendations this week! (I know, it's a little early for a Monday post. Time is arbitrary, ok?)

Sunday, September 15, 2024

A Sorceress Comes to Call, by T. Kingfisher

T. Kingfisher has written a Regency romance! Well, sort of. As she says in her Afterword, it "isn't technically a Regency, but it's in the same ballpark, right?" Though most Regencies have "fewer reanimated dead horses."

What she's actually done is a complete reimagining of The Goose Girl—which is such an interesting fairy tale! There have been so many versions, from Shannon Hale's The Goose Girl to Intisar Khanani's Thorn, but there seems always to be something new to say about it, and whoo, boy, does Kingfisher find new things to say!

I don't want to say too much about this novel's relationship to the fairy tale, because part of the fun of reading was figuring out which characters were which and how she transformed some core elements to fit into her "Regency" setting. The juxtaposition of rather terrifying sorcery with ladies taking tea was at times hilarious and at times deeply disturbing!

(Kingfisher likes horror, and she seems to be playing a lot more with it these days. I can't read her novels that are actually horror; this one was fine for me, but be warned, it's serious when it says dark. Not YA, or, at least, not for younger or sensitive readers.)

The ladies taking tea: possibly my favourite part of the story was the friendship between Hester, Penelope and Imogene. Three middle-aged women forging three different paths to independence through the ridiculousness of social mores (and, yeah, Kingfisher is no doubt doing something with the three Fates or whatever, but I was just so delighted to have three completely different characters with important plot roles, none of whom played into any of the older woman stereotypes of the genre, that I didn't care if they symbolized anything!) They were so much fun! (There isn't a female version of the word "avuncular" and there should be: these were aunties of the best sort—and they weren't even defined by their relationship to the young protagonist.) 

Hester is a protagonist in her own right, and isn't that another interesting thing: a fairy tale/Regency romance (sort of) with a young woman protagonist and an older woman with equal protagonismos. Hester has a brother who needs rescuing, and she calls in her friends who come at once, no questions asked. And when they realize that Cordelia (the young protagonist) needs rescuing, there is no hesitation from any of them despite the danger. I love these women!

The sorceress of the title is a heartless villain and Cordelia's mother. Great, great opening scene that defines their relationship and the mother's villainy and creates this undercurrent of fear that runs through the whole book. This isn't a villain who can be defied with impunity. (Have I repeated the word villain too many times? Because she's a doozy of one, just saying!) She's also vain, shallow and greedy, and the juxtaposition of her power with her petty desires is, well, terrifying. (IMHO she didn't need any kind of nuanced backstory: she's what you'd get if all of those conspiring side-characters in Regency romances had vast sorcerous power. Shudder!)

Cordelia could be compared easily to the eponymous heroine of Thorn: she is rendered helpless by her circumstances but she finds tiny ways to fight back, especially when she realizes who else is going to suffer from her mother's all-encompassing selfishness. It's lovely to see her recognize selflessness in others and trust in her own empathy as a power that might be greater than sorcery.

Is there romance? There is, in fact, and it's sweet and lovely and not at all the point of the story. The ending is satisfying on many levels, and the romance is sort of the cherry on top!

No one is as wonderfully weird as T. Kingfisher (well, Ursula Vernon probably is, but she manages to rein it in for her younger audiences!) This one is weird, wonderful, terrifying and hilarious, and you will never look at geese (or horses) the same way again!

Wednesday, September 4, 2024

Liberty's Daughter, by Naomi Kritzer

 Hope you all had a marvellous summer! When I wasn't backpacking or hiking or at music camp, I was rereading the Vorkosigan series by Lois McMaster Bujold, following along with this delightful blog. Lois herself is going to appear on the last episode, airing sometime this month!

Naomi Kritzer is becoming an auto-buy author for me. I first encountered her with the short story "Little Free Library," on Tor.com—a delightful, sweet, but also deep and moving story. Then I happened to read Catfishing on CatNet (my review at the link) and its sequel Chaos on CatNet, without realizing it was the same author. Kritzer has this way of seeing our current society with ruthless clarity that she translates into fun, entertaining spec fic with a hidden punch.

Liberty's Daughter is another plausible near-future scenario: what if a bunch of libertarians decided to hook some sea-platforms and old cruise ships together to create a sea-stead in international waters? (It's plausible because people have already tried to do it. Great story!) I love that Kritzer is able to envision all the nitty-gritty logistics of how such a living arrangement would work. Limited availability of just about everything, for example, leading to our MC's part-time job: finding very specific items for people and negotiating trades. Really great world-building here.

Kritzer is also cognizant of all the unpleasant maintenance jobs that someone is going to have to do, and her story hinges on the debt-slavery that is a sadly plausible solution. Beck Garrison is a privileged teenager because of her father's position, and until she's asked to help find someone's missing sister, she is naive about her narrow little world. But when she discovers nefarious dealings, she plows ahead determinedly to investigate the literal and figurative underbelly of the sea-stead. 

Everything about this book is just so interesting. The fast-paced plot pinballs through all sections of the unique setting and society, exploring a raft (get it?) of physical, political and social implications. Kritzer's critique is funny, nuanced and ultimately hopeful. Yes, people can be greedy and selfish and cruel, but they can also pull together and care for each other and stand up for each other. And human ingenuity can solve as many problems as it creates!

Beck might be a bit too confident and capable to be believable, but it sure is fun watching her bulldoze her way through greed, corruption and incompetence. She has some genuine dilemmas; her character growth isn't huge but it's satisfying. The bad guys aren't flatly evil, either. 

Thoroughly enjoyable, and I look forward to seeing what aspect of society Krizter will choose to poke at next! 

You might enjoy her discussion of the genesis of the book on John Scalzi's blog, but be warned, it's fairly spoilery.

Tuesday, June 6, 2023

Emily Wilde's Encylopaedia of Fairies, by Heather Fawcett

Well, this was an utter delight! All the hype I’ve been hearing about Emily Wilde’s Encyclopaedia of Faeries is justified. It’s funny, clever, atmospheric, sweet and beautifully-written. Emily and Wendell are fantastic characters, and their relationship is a treat.

I should start by saying I’m not a huge fan of Faerie. Beautiful but cruel aren’t characteristics I’m interested in, and I find most books about the fae boring or distasteful. Emily’s fairies, though, are fascinating, intriguing, fun—while still often being beautiful and cruel, and fitting in perfectly with familiar legends and lore.

Most of the book’s appeal is down to Emily herself, the “curmudgeonly professor” with her single-minded pursuit of fairy scholarship. I love the idea of “dryadology”! Practical, intelligent, introverted and awkward around people but confident and clever while studying the Fair Folk “in the field,” Emily narrates the story in hilariously academic prose, complete with footnotes. Her ostensibly objective, multisyllabic discourse does nothing to hide her feelings from the reader, however, and she charmed me as completely as she ultimately charms every other character (and, yes, the metaphor of enchantment is intentional!)

Wendell I will not spoil for you; you’ll just have to meet him yourself when he swans in with his minions in tow and upends Emily’s painstaking plans.

I get a grin on my face just thinking about these two and their exasperation with each other!

All the characters jump off the page; every one of the villagers a distinct individual. And the wintry northern landscape is a character in its own right. I am quite convinced that Hrafnsvik is a real place and the Hidden Folk really do live in those mountains.

There's also a great dog!

A satisfying conclusion, with the promise of another book to come. I am hooked on Emily and can’t wait to see what other surprises she has up her sleeve!

Heather Fawcett is Canadian, by the way: I'm happy to claim her as a British Columbian!

Don't forget to tell me about your favourite dragon in the comments on my previous post, and you could win a free e-book. (Contest open until June 30, 2023)


Friday, April 7, 2023

Author Interview: Michael Roth and River's New Friend

I'm excited for you all to meet Michael Roth, picture book author! I met Michael at a writer's conference, and I've been privileged to watch the development of his very cute book, River's New Friend. Michael kindly agreed to answer a few questions about dogs, llamas and writing picture books.

Did you grow up owning dogs? Do you have a favourite childhood memory of a dog?

As a kid, I had asthma and a dog allergy. As a result, I grew up afraid of dogs. 

Then, one summer, when I was 16, my father (who also did not like dogs) and I took a trip out of town together. While we were gone, the rest of the family held a vote and with the two dissenting votes absent, unanimously decided to get a dog. When we returned home, we were greeted by the new family dog, a miniature schnauzer named Hans Von Schnauzer.

It took me a while to warm up to Hans. Fortunately, schnauzers were a breed of dog that I was less allergic to. Somehow, I was appointed the head dog trainer of the family, which helped me get over my fear and discomfort with dogs. By the time I left for University, I had grown to love Hans quite a lot.

At the time, the moment of getting out of a car and being greeted by a surprise puppy was upsetting, but now looking back and thinking of the good times I had with Hans and with all the dogs in my life that he paved the way for me to love, my first meeting with Hans is now one of my favourite childhood dog memories.

I understand this story was inspired by your own dogs. Tell us about the real River and Willow. How much of your story was based on Willow's actual behaviour?


River (age 7) and Willow (age 4) are both 65-pound goldendoodles. They are half-sisters, so they share many of the same physical features and mannerisms, but at the same time manage to be completely different dogs. 

River is calmer, more dignified (a bit uppity even), loves people but is “meh” about other dogs, and enjoys sitting outside in the yard for hours watching the birds. Willow is a mischief maker, loves sneaking food from countertops and hunting for used Kleenex tissues in the trash, is over-eager and a bit anxious, and loves all the attention.

In the story, “River’s New Friend”, River is excited when Mom and Dad bring home a new sister, but very quickly realizes that sisters can be challenging when they eat your food, play with your toys, make messes, and take away from your time with Mom and Dad. This is all true to what happened in real life. River was initially very excited, but then learned that having a puppy disrupted her routines and meant sharing food, toys, and attention, which she was displeased with to say the least.

Four years later, River and Willow aren’t really what I would call friends, but they peacefully coexist. They play together occasionally and every once and a while I will even catch them snuggling. To me, they are a good representation of many human sibling relationships where there is “love” but not always “like”. 

Part of my inspiration for writing the story was to present a sincere and honest look at this type of sibling relationship and let kids know that the mixed feelings they may have for a sibling are normal and that they are not “bad” for feeling sad, frustrated, or lonely when a new sibling arrives.

Do you have siblings? Are any of them monsters?

I have two, a younger brother and a younger sister. In the story of “River’s New Friend”, River describes Willow as a monster because Willow steals food and toys and takes away from River’s time with her parents. Based on this definition, yes, my siblings were both monsters. My brother especially, who is the older of my siblings and four years younger than me, struggled with health issues and learning disabilities, which meant he required a significant amount of my parents’ attention as a child. This was a difficult adjustment for me.

Funny enough, even though “River’s New Friend” is all about the challenges involved with the arrival of a new sibling, my own experience as an older brother and my relationship with my siblings never once crossed my mind as I was writing it. This was a story about River and Willow, not me. It was only as the story was nearly finished that I realized I had written a story that spoke to many of my own struggles and feelings as a child. This discovery was strangely cathartic and actually helped me process some of my childhood experiences in a new way.

I think that is the cool thing about art, whether we recognize it or not, we are pouring ourselves into it and it becomes a reflection of us. It is one of the reasons I am not overly concerned about artificial intelligence replacing artists as storytellers.

Have you ever met a llama?

I have! My wife had a coworker who lived on a llama farm. Every year, they would throw a giant party called “Llamapalooza”, where you could come and hang out with the llamas. We attended one year and met many llamas.

Did you have any idea how hard it is to write a picture book when you started? How long did this one take you, from first concept to finished book?

I wrote the first draft of “River’s New Friend” in an afternoon. I shared it with a few family members and friends who said, “hey, this is pretty good!” I could have stopped there and said I had written a picture book. Based on my experience reading many self-published picture books, I think this is where a good number of people fall into the trap of calling the book “done” and move ahead with publishing. But I wasn’t happy with it yet. 

After writing the first draft, I decided I wanted to improve as a writer before continuing, so I started taking online writing classes, reading books on craft, and watching countless YouTube videos on how to write. I joined a critique group to get honest, unbiased feedback on my writing. I revised the story again and again. Hired a professional editor and revised it some more. By the time the story was finished, I had been working on it for a year and a half, not including the year off I took to level up as a writer.

Did you write stories when you were a kid? What were your favourite kids books?

Nope. Not at all. I didn’t start writing until I was 34 years old, which makes me quite an outlier as a professional writer.

My favorite kid’s books were a series of middle grade sports mysteries written by Matt Christopher. The protagonists were always some young athlete investigating a strange happening that was impacting their team. Sometimes the stories were even a bit supernatural, like a magic goal-scoring hockey stick or a batter who could only hit home runs. As a kid who loved sports, I read these books over and over again.

What's one thing you wished you had known before you started the self-publishing process?

Don’t worry so much about social media. I spent a year trying to develop Instagram and TikTok accounts in advance of my book launch, hoping it would be helpful in marketing the book. But social media algorithms are fickle, the sites are unreliable ways to reach your target audience, and just because you have “followers” it doesn’t mean you have potential customers. 

At this point, after a year of work and the lucky break of having a video go viral, I have 4,200 Instagram followers. But I can only point to a couple of book sales that have come from my Instagram marketing.

If you enjoy social media and do it well, then by all means, lean into it and use it to your advantage. But if it isn’t something you enjoy or that comes naturally to you, your time and energy will be better spent writing books than composing social media posts. And most importantly, never feel guilty for not doing social media if it isn’t something you want to do, your writing career will go on just fine without it, I promise.

Why do you think llamas are so appealing?

First of all, they are fluffy and humans, in general, are a big fan of fluffiness. Second, they have a comical appearance. They look like sheep doing a giraffe impression. And their faces have a dopey cuteness that makes them look like they are perpetually in a state of having just woken up from a nap. Third, we have all fallen for the pro-llama propaganda pushed on us by Disney’s “Emperor’s New Groove” which depicts llamas as a vehicle for spiritual redemption of the morally bankrupt, when in reality, not a single Incan emperor was ever redeemed through llama transformation (a seldom known fact).

What did you love most about the whole writing-publishing process? What was the hardest thing?

There were several moments in the writing and illustration process where things felt like they just clicked into place. During writing, my story was feeling broken, but then I tried moving a piece from the end to the beginning and suddenly everything worked. That shift from “it’s not working” to “that’s it!” was the coolest moment of my writing career to date. There were similar moments during illustration where my illustrator, Zoe, would send me a character sketch or an storyboard for a page and I would have a sense of, “yep, that’s exactly it.” Those were the moments I loved the most.

The hardest thing about publishing was overcoming some of the self-doubt, much of which is tied to my decision to self-publish the book. When you traditionally publish a book, your work passes through several gatekeepers: a literary agent, editor, the publisher’s internal marketing team, etc. and each time you pass one of these gatekeepers, it can serve as a validation of your writing. An industry expert gave it their stamp of approval as being “good enough”. But when you are self-publishing, you don’t receive that same validation. To compensate, I surrounded myself with critique partners, beta readers, and a professional editor so that I would receive honest feedback and hopefully, once the book was good enough, validation that it was ready for publishing. 

Honestly, even now with the book completed, I still struggle with self-doubt. I worry if the story is good enough and how readers will respond. But I tell myself that I put in the work, listened to and incorporated feedback from smart and knowledgeable sources, and made the best book I could make, and I can feel proud of what I created.

Would you consider writing a spin-off series starring Rhama the llama?

One of the things that has surprised me about the early response to the picture book is the degree to which readers are enthralled with River’s friends in the story. The list of friends includes Basanti the shy bunny, Kameko the hungry cat, Earl the overwhelmed squirrel, Gustavo the grumpy goose, and Rhama the sleepy llama. Already, I have had requests for spinoff stories about the goose, the squirrel, and the llama. Spin-off books were never a consideration when I was writing the story, and the fact that people are asking for them (even if jokingly) is a testament to the incredible job my illustrator did bringing these side characters to life. Who knows, in the future there may be an extended River-verse with spinoff stories for everyone, including the llama.

Michael currently has a Kickstarter running to fund publishing River's New Friend. If you're interested in the book, or just interested in what a picture book Kickstarter looks like, check it out here. (It ends on April 15, so you have a week left!)

As part of the Kickstarter, Michael has organized a book donation drive to get donated copies of "River's New Friend" into the hands of kids and teachers in low-income communities. In addition to being able to pre-order a copy of "River's New Friend" for yourself, there is an option on the Kickstarter page to purchase copies of the book when will then be donated to a preschool or childcare center. If you would like to contribute, look for reward tiers on the Kickstarter page that mention a "Donation Book" in the description."

Thursday, March 23, 2023

Mysteries of Thorn Manor, by Margaret Rogerson

Look what just came available on Libby! (I love putting things on hold and then forgetting that they're on hold, and having the notification suddenly pop up that a book I'd forgotten I wanted to read is now ready for me, and realizing that it's exactly the book I want to read right now!) And, since it's a short novella, I'm already finished it. What a treat!

Mysteries of Thorn Manor is a sort of Gratuitous Epilogue (ever since Andrea Höst invented that title, I've been so happy when other authors write them!) to Sorcery of Thorns that Rogerson wrote because her fans begged her for more of Elizabeth and Nathaniel. Because: more Elizabeth and Nathaniel! They're one of my favourite literary pairings and I'm obviously not alone. I need to reread Sorcery of Thorns now. Also, I think I need to buy these two books to have those gorgeous covers on my shelf! 

There is so much of all the things I love packed into this short book: mysterious probably sentient house with disappearing rooms and magic wallpaper and an attic full of cursed things; Elizabeth and Nathaniel and Silas and lots of squee and awww moments among them; Elizabeth taking care of books, because that's what Elizabeth does (and the wonderful magic ways that magical grimoires need to be taken care of); Nathaniel being ridiculously magical in very sexy ways; a ball (the kind with gowns!). And the plot resolution was so funny and appropriate and all the things I want out of fantasy.

If you haven't read Sorcery of Thorns, you really should. Especially if you are a fan of Sophie and Wizard Howl, because there are a lot of similar vibes here. Rogerson is a delightful writer: gorgeous descriptions of magic, characters with unplumbable depths, and lots of kind-hearted humour. And great heroines!

Just finished reading Mysteries of Thorn Manor while eating an apple pistachio strudel with Haagen Daas Vanilla Bean ice cream (I had to go downtown for an errand so I rewarded myself by stopping at a fancy bakery), and that's a good food metaphor: sweet and interesting with layers and delicious complexity. 

Monday, August 23, 2021

The Iron Will of Genie Lo, by F. C. Yee

I was really excited about The Iron Will of Genie Lo, and I wasn't disappointed. It's every bit as good as The Epic Crush of Genie Lo, and my one disappointment is that it appears to conclude the series—I would have read a lot more adventures of Genie and Quentin! (Though Yee might have decided there was no way he could top the stakes of this one, and I respect walking away from the mike drop!)

The Monkey King is a great trickster character from Chinese mythology, and Yee has so much fun with him and his partner in mayhem, over-achieving California high-school student Genie Lo. I loved Genie's character: she's flawed, she recognizes her flaws, she's trying to do the right thing, and she gets so relateably exasperated with herself, and with everyone else who makes it so hard to figure out what the right thing is. There's enough character development that I would read a book just about Genie trying to figure out college choices and her relationship with her parents and how to communicate with her boyfriend. Throw in demons and a bunch of Chinese gods being petty and manipulative, and Genie doing her best to fulfil a divine mandate while still getting good grades and protecting her best friend Yunie from all the supernatural stuff going down—so much fun! And I cared so much about all of them.

Everyone from the Goddess of Mercy to the ant leader of the demon horde to Yunie's hilariously true-to-life cousin at college was an interesting character that I wanted to know more about. Yee has a way of summing up people and situations in unexpected but perfect metaphors:

How was I supposed to keep my life options open if I didn’t at least double major? The concept was rationally appealing but still unpalatable, like cilantro.

... a wizened, disproportionately deep voice. He could have narrated a nature documentary about himself.

The writing is just really, really funny—sometimes quite sly, always very perceptive. 

it looked like we were having a funny, lighthearted conversation, like women in stock photos. All we needed were some salads.

There are a lot of similarities between this book and Victories Greater Than Death, which I ended up getting bored with and not finishing: colorful, larger-than-life characters, lots of crazy action in imaginative settings, juxtaposition of normal teen-age angst with save-the-universe stakes. So why did Iron Will work for me where Victories fell flat? I think it's in how much Yee respects both his material and his audience. I didn't get the sense that Anders believed in her aliens; they felt more like props to make the story more exciting, and the story was there so that her teen characters could Learn Something. Yee's gods and monsters were every bit as over-the-top weird, but they felt real to me. And Genie wasn't there to learn a lesson: she was there to kick butt and yell at people to stop being stupid. That she figures out how to be true to herself and still live up to everyone's expectations (including her own) is an inevitable result of her character intersecting the story.

The ending felt a bit rushed to me: this could totally have been a trilogy, and I have to respect that Yee didn't drag the story out on purpose to make it three books, but I would have happily read a third one! (Have I hinted strongly enough that I want another book? What about a novella? I'd be happy with a short story: pretty please with a cherry on top?)

Steamed BBQ pork buns, the kind you get at dim sum. Actually, this book is dim sum: so many different delicious things coming around on carts! You might not recognize many of them if this isn't your cultural background, but you'll want to try them all. And it's really sad that there's no way you have room to eat one of everything!

Sunday, June 20, 2021

The Legendary Inge, by Kate Stradling


This book was an unexpected gem! I bought the e-book because a gender-reversed, reluctant Beowulf is a premise good enough for 5 of my hard-earned dollars. I would have been happy if The Legendary Inge had followed through in any way on that premise, but what I got was so much more.

Inge herself is a delight. Dragged to the palace as a hero after sort of accidentally killing a terrible monster, she can't believe it when the king mistakes her for a boy and adopts her as his son. "Just roll with it," says her guard, "you can't go against the king, I'm sure everything will be resolved soon." Inge is a practical, common-sense peasant and her horrified bemusement is pretty enjoyable. Then she decides she'd better start asserting herself and we find out there's more to her than everyone thought.

Her guard, Raske, the Demon Scourge of the army, is also a delight. He's unflappable and smart and carries a sword named Mercy (which he is not embarrassed about, thank you very much). We get the measure of his character when he is sent to make sure Inge's younger siblings are going to be okay without her, and I won't spoil the scene that ensues. His reaction to all the siblings is priceless, and I was on Team Raske from that point on. 

Inge's six siblings are my favourite part of the book: each is an individual with a fully-developed personality, and I loved their interactions as a family.

I don't think there is a single character in the novel who is what he or she appears to be at first, and watching people reveal hidden depths is always satisfying. The plot is also surprisingly twisty (I could see most of the twists coming, but they were still fun). It was a fast, enjoyable read—reminded me a bit of T. Kingfisher's A Wizard's Guide to Defensive Baking. (Less finesse in the way everything came together, and Kingfisher is better with magic and overall weirdness (nothing can top sentient sourdough starter), but similar themes of ordinary people stepping up and turning out to be not-so-ordinary.)

A must read if you've ever read Beowulf* and want to poke a little fun at its heroic tropes. Or if you like heroines who care about who is going to keep the children clothed and fed (and stop the twins from pushing over the outhouse again). 

Warm biscuits with butter and honey. And maybe raspberries, because my garden is overflowing with them. Oh, heck, make it a berry shortcake (and now I want to make biscuits to go with my strawberries and raspberries, but I already bought strawberry and ginger yogurt gelato. The biscuits can be for breakfast!)



*I've actually read it in the original Old English, but that was more years ago than I care to reveal, and I don't remember a word of it. Except the opening: "Hwaet!" (And then, I think, "We in yeardagum," but that's as far as I go.)

Monday, June 14, 2021

MMGM: The Monster Who Wasn't, by T. C. Shelley


What an odd, sweet, surprisingly deep story! I picked up The Monster Who Wasn't on a random library browse, because that's a great title, with an appealing cover. The cover is not only a lovely piece of art, but it really captures the feel of the book: the boy-shaped imp with his gargoyle friends, perched on a church spire gazing down at the human world he wishes he could belong to. Wistful, whimsical and weird.

Shelley populates her world with a kaleidoscope of monsters and fairies (and an angel): everything in Irish mythology, plus some extra ogres and trolls, plus a few, like the gargoyles, she just made up. Her description of the monsters' underground world is vivid and disgusting: the monsters are definitely the bad guys in this one! The gargoyles rescue the unnamed imp who doesn't look like any other type of monster—because they feel sorry for him, and because his human shape means he can steal chocolate for them! 

The imp—who eventually gets named Sam, so I'll call him that—is delightful as he gains vocabulary and learns about the world. Then his questions start to get more existential: why do I exist? what am I supposed to be? where do I belong? The answers to those questions turn out to be complicated. Shelley has taken elements of the changeling story but given them her own unique spin, and Sam's encounter with the human family who were partially responsible for his creation (this isn't a spoiler: we know that at the beginning) gives the plot some intriguing and poignant twists.

I mentioned that the monsters are the bad guys, and there is some real peril with quite scary creatures. Sam's courage and loyalty are tested, and I was on the edge of my seat rooting for him all the way!

I loved the gargoyles, I loved the Kavanagh family; there's a lot of really great humour to balance out the scary bits. This book warmed the cockles of my heart! (I think that's an Irish saying, isn't it?)

Once again I'm joining the group at Always in the Middle to highlight Marvelous Middle-Grade books on Monday. Lots more great recommendations at Greg's blog.

Wednesday, June 9, 2021

Catfishing on CatNet, by Naomi Kritzer

I don't have to write a review to get you to read this; you just have to go read the short story that it's based on, "Cat Pictures Please," which is delightful, and if you like that you'll want to read the novel.  

It's a little bit Murderbot Lite. (I might have a thing for benevolent AIs!) CheshireCat doesn't have a robot body with weapons in its arms, but it can hack dangerous things so it could still murder people if it wanted to. But, like Murderbot, it would really rather just be entertained (by cat pictures, in this case), and it would also really like it if humans would stop inflicting harm on themselves and others.

I probably shouldn't compare it to Murderbot, though, because Catfishing on CatNet is a lot lighter. It's very YA—which is perfect, because CheshireCat is trying to negotiate its personhood and its relationship with the world in the same way that teens are, so its interactions with Steph and the other members of the CatNet chat group feel very real. The sentient AI trope is fun to play with because of all the opportunity to comment on what makes someone a person, what constrains our actions, where does our sense of morality, responsibility, goodness come from, and Kritzer does this really well for an audience which is also exploring these choices for the first time.

I loved Steph: her resigned adaptability to her difficult circumstances hurt my heart, so I was primed to root for her. I loved the "clowder," her chat group on CatNet: it's a found family that gets awesome opportunities to step up and be there for Steph and CheshireCat. And Steph's hesitantly developed relationship with Rachel was lovely and felt entirely real.

Steph and her mother are on the run from an abusive father, so there's a lot of nerve-wracking suspense to keep the pages turning. The story doesn't shy away from the darkness, but it focuses on friends helping each other out, and it helps that Steph has a benevolent AI on her side! There's also a lot of humour, so it's a fast, fun, upbeat read. It concludes satisfactorily, but there's a sequel which I'll be reading soon.

I haven't been doing food analogies lately, but this one is spicy hot chicken wings. You'll devour it and lick your fingers after!

Saturday, May 1, 2021

Dogman, Murderbot and other things that made me happy this week


New Murderbot novella!!!! Fugitive Telemetry came out on Tuesday, and I couldn't quite drop everything to read it right away, but finished it yesterday. A little murder mystery set on Preservation Station, before the start of Network Effect. Our favourite sarcastic SecUnit has a dead human and some new annoying live humans to deal with, and it is as funny and heartrending as ever. "Fortunately, I had a lot of experience being screamed at and stared at by terrified humans." 

A Goodreads reviewer mentioned Murderbot's deep integrity, and now I want to reread the novella with that in mind, because I think it's a theme Martha Wells rather brilliantly weaves through it. Along with the usual friendship, selfhood, decency, and other things a rogue killing machine has to figure out for itself while trying to avoid more humans getting dead. Also my favourite cover of all of them so far.

And then I went to my local bookstore to pick up 13 Ways to Eat a Fly, a cleverly grotesque counting book by Sue Heavenrich (often seen on Marvelous Middle-Grade Monday). I now know far more than I ever wanted to about the disgusting eating habits of insectivores! I think this will be hugely popular among my nephews (and at least one of my nieces). Kudos to Sue and her illustrator David Clark for presenting so much detailed science in such an engaging way. 

While at the bookstore I noticed the two latest Dav Pilkey graphic novels: Dogman: Grime and Punishment and Dogman: Mothering Heights. I happen to think Dav Pilkey is one of the best comic writers out there, and The Adventures of Super Diaper Baby is a masterpiece of literature, but I have not been keeping up with his Dog Man series. The idea of Wuthering Heights and Crime and Punishment given the Dav Pilkey treatment* was too good to pass up, so I had to bring them home.

So I had another afternoon of laughing out loud, pounding the couch cushions, tears running down my face. And then Pilkey sucker-punched me with the sweet, wise denoument of this story arc about the redemptive power of love.

Trigger warning: Many people seem to object to the diarrhea-themed song parodies in Dog Man, so if that's an issue for you, you've been warned! I found them hilarious, but I have a particularly nuanced sense of humour.





The last thing that made me happy this week was the discovery that Becky Chambers has another book out in her Wayfarer's series: The Galaxy and the Ground Within. Will be reading that one soon. And if that weren't wonderful enough, she's starting a new series called Monk and Robot, the first novella of which, A Psalm for the Wild-Built, is coming out in July. The premise sounds amazing (and reminds me a little of the wonderful middle-grade novel The Wild Robot, also the Ghibli film Castle in the Sky) and I am so there for a robot who abandoned human civilization having conversations with a non-binary monk!


*For fans of Brontë and Dostoevsky: it's not a particularly close retelling of the classic novels. In case you were wondering! But Mothering Heights does contain "The Most Romantic Chapter Ever Written," complete with Romantic Advisory: Mushy Content, and Smooch-o-Rama, The World's Most Amorous Animation Technology. And there are various crimes and various punishments (and people getting dirty) in Grime and Punishment, though a grand total of zero dead humans.

Friday, April 23, 2021

Digger, by Ursula Vernon


I just finished making my way through all twelve volumes of Ursula Vernon's webcomic Digger, and what a glorious, mind-bending, hilarious ride that was! It's all available now for free online, so you can go become obsessed too!

You know already I'm a rabid Ursula Vernon/T.Kingfisher fan. Well, now I'm rabider. (The vampire squashes may have had something to do with it: you have to keep your eye on those.) I also have an addition to my list of favourite heroines*: she's a practical-as-nails engineer who doesn't truck with magic or gods or prophecies, she's a mean hand with a pickaxe, and she's a wombat.

Yup. A wombat. Do you even know what a wombat is? I had to look them up. They're adorable. Digger-of-Unnecessarily-Convoluted-Tunnels, however, would give you a Look if you called her adorable. (And possibly favour you with a pithy wombat curse: her curses are the best!)

The thing about this comic is that it apparently started on a whim, and Ursula thought it would last for a few panels and be done. She threw together a bunch of random stuff like wombats, the elephant-god Ganesh (or a statue of him, anyway), an exiled hyena, a baby shadow-thing that doesn't know what it is, other awesome creatures I don't want to spoil for you—and if it were only the random juxtaposition of weird things with clever dialog and delightful art, it would be wonderful. But she kept going, and somehow she gathered up all her threads of weird randomness and wove them into a narrative of heartbreaking, breathtaking wisdom about how to be a decent, compassionate being in a world that doesn't make sense.

And because it's Ursula Vernon, the humour is laugh out loud, snort your tea all over the screen funny, and the philosophy can sometimes explode your brain.

Also, this web-archive includes comments from fans that greatly enhance the reading experience, as they reference everything from Star Trek to Terry Pratchett to Lord of the Rings, and debate archeology and geology and mythology and everything else.

Definitely worth a week or two of your life (there are around 800 pages!). It won a Hugo, after all.

Ursula Vernon writes for children, but I would say Digger is more appropriate for her T. Kingfisher readers (that's her pseudonym when she writes for adults). Not because of anything particularly graphic**, but, well, here are a few pages and you can judge for yourself:



And if those few pages don't make you want to read Digger immediately, then it probably isn't for you, and I despair of you, my child, I really do!


*which is going to get a blog post, really, I promise!

** I mean, other than the fact that it's a graphic novel. Get it? Graphic ... never mind.

Wednesday, March 10, 2021

#MarchMagics: The Shepherd's Crown, by Terry Pratchett

Every March, Kristen at We Be Reading hosts a celebration of the works of beloved fantasy authors Diana Wynne Jones and Terry Pratchett.

I didn't have a particular plan for what to read or re-read this month, but when I went to my library I saw The Shepherd's Crown, and discovered that it is both a fifth and final Tiffany Aching book, and Terry Pratchett's last novel. So it was with both delight and sadness that I began to read it, and both delight and sadness that I finished it.

I adore Tiffany Aching. She's one of my all-time favourite heroines, up there with Sophie Hatter, Jane Eyre, Elisabeth Bennett, Irene from the Invisible Library, Cassandra from Stray, Tess (of the Road), Slate from Clockwork Boys ...* The Shepherd's Crown stays true to her stubborn strength and exasperated compassion. She gets some career advancement, as it were, —which, for a witch, just means more things that have to be done—and rises to the challenge with typical blunt style. "I want to do it my way. Not how the other witches think it should be done." She finds help in surprising places, and there are always the Nac Mac Feegle ready to take on all comers.

The afterword explains that "The Shepherd's Crown has a beginning, a middle and an end, and all the bits in between. Terry wrote all of those. But even so, it was, still, not quite as finished as he would have liked when he died. If Terry had lived longer, he would almost certainly have written more of this book." I read this first, and so was prepared to be disappointed in the book. But it turns out that a not-quite-finished Terry Pratchett book is still far better than the best of most other authors. It's true that this novel felt a little thin, compared to his other books. Less layered. But it is a complete and satisfying story, and it has all of Pratchett's wit and wisdom and gentle understanding of human foibles.

It also has a number of cameos from many of the Discworld novels. I haven't read all of them, so I didn't recognize them all, but it was lovely to see familiar characters show up. It felt very much as though Pratchett was saying goodbye to Discworld. There were some scenes that brought me to tears, because they were well-written and touching but also because I could hear the farewell in them. 

I can confidently recommend this book to anyone who loves Pratchett, but you were going to read it anyway, weren't you?! It's also an excellent conclusion to the Tiffany Aching series, and just another excellent book about human nature and goodness and the true source of magic. I am happy to think of the conversations Pratchett and Death are having now, over a game of chess, perhaps, and a glass of something mellow. May we all be able to say, as I'm sure Death said to Terry Pratchett: "YOU HAVE LEFT THE WORLD MUCH BETTER THAN YOU FOUND IT."

*This is turning into an interesting list, possibly worth writing a post about!

Saturday, May 9, 2020

Murderbot!!!! And my birthday present finally arrived! A good week!

Martha Wells' Murderbot novel, Network Effect, came out on Tuesday, and yay for the pandemic because I hardly had anything I needed to drop so I I could spend all day reading it! Also a good thing I was all by myself, because I was laughing out loud and crying (sometimes with laughter, sometimes not) and yelling at the characters, and having the most fun I've had all pandemic.

I may have mentioned one or two times how much I love Murderbot. The novel is everything I wanted it to be and more. We get Dr. Mensah's brother-in-law, who doesn't trust Murderbot and definitely doesn't like it, and Dr. Mensah's teen-aged daughter, who is miffed at Murderbot but also trusts it implicitly,  and ART, who—gah—can't say anything about ART! And new scary villains and weird scenarios that only Martha Wells could think up that require Murderbot to care about things. A lot. Also, some of the really terrible bad things that have happened to Murderbot may have caused some lingering trauma that might possibly be affecting its performance reliability.

I liked this quotation and Rachel Neumeier's comments about it: kind of sums it up, really! But amidst all the violence and mayhem there are the awesome character moments that punch you in the gut, and always Murderbot's sarcastic, defensive, sulky, exasperated, painfully human, wise voice.
You know that thing humans do where they think they're being completely logical and they absolutely are not being logical at all, and on some level they know that, but can't stop? Apparently it can happen to SecUnits, too.
I've told you this before: go read the Murderbot Diaries. Start with the novellas so that you'll be able to fully appreciate the novel. Trust me, you need this in your life right now!

(According to Goodreads there is a short story told from Dr. Mensah's point of view, but I can't find it anywhere! Anyone know where I can get my hands on it??)

Then on Friday, the book I had ordered for my birthday back in March finally arrived. It's the new Folio Society illustrated Howl's Moving Castle. Look how beautiful it is!







Tuesday, April 7, 2020

Sal and Gabi Break the Universe, by Carlos Hernandez

Based on the cover and title, I came into Sal and Gabi Break the Universe expecting a fun middle-grade romp with a science-fictiony feel. What I got exceeded my expectations by quantum orders of magnitude. (Actually, I don't know enough about the definition of quantum to know if it's actually expressing my meaning in that sentence, but it sounds good, doesn't it?)

There isn't any way to describe the book without spoiling a lot of the fun surprises, but I'll try to tell you what I loved while still being mysterious.

I loved Sal. I loved his voice, his self-depreciating wit (that's the best kind, in my opinion), his bold approach to life and problem-solving, his hilarious sense of humour. I loved that he's a magician (the sleight-of-hand kind). I loved that his dad is a calamity physicist. (A quick google search indicates that there's actually no such thing as calamity physics (google would know about it if there were, right??), but it's such a cool idea: it ought to exist!)

I loved Gabi even more, if that's possible. She's a force of nature, a warrior, the leader everyone didn't know they needed. I loved her quick, incisive mind,  her witty come-backs, her insistence on respect. She and Sal make a brilliant, hugely entertaining pair and I wish they had been my best friends in middle-school. (But I would never have dared!)

I loved their school! I know there are arts-focused schools out there that are probably pretty amazing, but wow, what a wondrously ideal education to imagine! I loved all the teachers and the principal, loved the projects we found out about, loved detention!

I loved, loved, loved Sal and Gabi's families. I cannot say enough about how this book models diverse, loving family relationships—what it looks like when families are there to support one another—gah, I just, I have no words. Brandy pointed out in her review how refreshing it is to have a middle-grade book with present, functioning, loving parents, and I agree. Loved that.

Loved the Cuban food, the language, the culture that came through so strongly. This is a deep, rich book and the specifics of Sal and Gabi's Cuban community were a big part of the depth and texture.

I loved the writing. I had a little scrap of paper with quotations written on it, but I can't find it, alas. You'll just have to read it yourself, I guess! Assured, solid, textured, hilarious.

The themes! I don't even know where to begin. Family, friendship, grief, identity, self-esteem, how to be a decent human being. Dense and meaty stuff, all woven through with humour and insight. Hernandez reminds me very much of William Alexander, another favourite middle-grade writer who doesn't underestimate his audience's capacity for wisdom.

I laughed, I cried, I bought the sequel! I don't know what else to tell you: just read this book!

The book describes a Cuban roast pork dish (the name of which I wrote on that scrap of paper I can't find) that seems like the perfect analogy: flavourful, savoury, hearty, spicy.

And because you are an audience that might appreciate my accomplishment, here are a couple of solitaire Bananagrams I'm particularly proud of! (I find this a soothing, meditative kind of thing to do.)



Thursday, February 27, 2020

Sorcery of Thorns, by Margaret Rogerson

Sorcery of Thorns was my second favourite of the Cybils YA Spec Fic shortlist, and that's saying a lot. I gobbled this one up, didn't want to put it down, and am rushing to the library to get Rogerson's first book. (She writes stand-alones: how refreshingly wonderful!)

I'm pretty sure Rogerson sifted through my brain for all of my reading pleasure centres and concocted a novel using every last one of them. Magical library full of magical books: check. Orphan brought up in the library with a special relationship to the books: check. Sorcerer who seems arrogant because he's so competent (also he is actually pretty arrogant and needs a heroine who can take him down a peg or two): check. Sparks flying and witty banter as the two leads are forced to work together: check. Guy falls in love with girl's bravery and competence: check. Plot based on consistent magical rules with consistent consequences: check. Turns out the truth is more nuanced than the two opposing groups say it is: check.

I loved that the grimoires weren't inherently evil, no matter what knowledge they contained, but could be turned evil or used for evil. I loved that the librarians and the sorcerers had really good reasons to be suspicious of each other. I loved Rogerson's particular take on the sorceror-demon relationship. Loved Silas.

Sorcery of Thorns reminded me of so many of my favourite books: Howl's Moving Castle, Sabriel, Sorcerer to the Crown, The Invisible Library. Rogerson takes familiar, beloved elements from the fantasy canon and crafts her own version while paying loving homage. It helps that the writing is beautiful. Also very, very funny. (I love Nathaniel!) And she's one of those authors who can write wise things that are so supported by the story they don't sound trite.
For these were not ordinary books the libraries kept. They were knowledge, given life. Wisdom, given voice. They sang when starlight streamed through the library's windows. They felt pain and suffered heartbreak. Sometimes they were sinister, grotesque- but so was the world outside. And that made the world no less worth fighting for, because wherever there was darkness, there was also so much light.
 
“Why are you looking at me like that?" he inquired.
"You used a demonic incantation to pack my stockings!"
He raised an eyebrow. "You're right, that doesn't sound like something a proper evil sorcerer would do. Next time, I won't fold them.”
Lots of fun, characters I can get behind, intelligent romance, cool, believable magic ... I think I want to read it again!

Banana bundt cake: dark and dense and sweet and nourishing.

Wednesday, September 11, 2019

Everything Beautiful is not Ruined, by Danielle Younge-Ullman

Picked up Everything Beautiful is not Ruined because of the title: love the title! And the book lives up to it.

It's a contemporary story about a girl on a wilderness therapy trip. The blurb says Wild meets The Breakfast Club, and that pretty much nails it: group of teens with various issues have to survive a hiking trip with some manufactured challenges that make them bond and open up to each other. As someone who backpacks regularly, I thought the wilderness challenge was the weakest part of the book—I got very angry at the some of the things the leaders did ... but I will not rant about that here! (I do agree that nature and wilderness experiences are healing, and I did like the description.) In any case, that was just the setting for the personal journey.

I loved the book because of Ingrid—her voice, and her fascinating past history, and the genuine journey she makes to reconcile with it. She narrates, and I found her snarky sense of humour with barely veiled hurt underneath utterly compelling. I felt so much for her! (And was very angry on her behalf with the irresponsible adults who ... not going to rant. Right.)

The narration is in two parts: letters to her mother describing the wilderness trip, full of sarcasm and anger and "why did you send me here?", and descriptions of her unusual childhood. Ingrid's mother was a famous opera singer, so Ingrid spend her early years traipsing around Europe, surrounded by music. It was an idyllic period in her memory, and then it suddenly ended when her mother lost her voice. Young Ingrid has to grow up quickly to deal with her mother's spiral into depression.

Younge-Ullman makes great use of her structure to create tension. It's obvious that something terrible happened to result in Ingrid's mother sending her on this camp, something Ingrid refuses to talk about even when all her co-campers are revealing their problems. As the stories of her childhood unfold we get closer and closer to understanding what might have happened; meanwhile Ingrid's letters to her mother are resolutely not saying anything even as she's being pushed to a breaking point by the physical and mental challenges of the camp.

I was blown away by the ending, when past and present come together and we find out how hurt Ingrid really is, just as she discovers her own strength and the support around her that she needs. There are some hard things, but the title is true: everything beautiful is not ruined.

I loved the use of music and the exploration of the life of a musician. I loved all the characters, (even the ones I was very angry at!). (And there was one character I loved beyond all measure, but I won't spoil who it is: you'll know who it is when you read it.) I appreciated the nuanced, realistic but hopeful approach to mental illness. This therapy trip doesn't magically fix everything for Ingrid, but the better place she gets to makes sense. There are bits to cry over, but lots of laugh-out-loud humour.

Since I'm still not quite ready to relinquish summer, I'll compare this book to an unusual gelato flavour: blueberry basil, maybe, or lemon lavender. Every bite has different layers of flavour and keeps surprising you with that unexpected hint of herb, which adds the right note of bitterness or spice to counteract the sweetness of the fruit. (Just made my own raspberry-mint sherbet with the last of the garden's raspberries: delicious!)


Monday, August 26, 2019

Novellas get me out of my reading funk! Also dragons.

It helps that the novellas were written by Lois McMaster Bujold, Becky Chambers, and T. Kingfisher.  And the dragons are from Marie Brennan's series that I finally got around to starting, and why did I wait so long (though it's nice that all the books (I think?) are written now) because she is an amazing writer!

There is nothing like putting yourself in a capable writer's hands. Suddenly, the world seems like a more hopeful place.

Becky Chambers is infinitely imaginative and also owns a deep well of hope. I haven't reviewed her Wayfarers series, I guess because it's adult and I'm mostly a YA/Kidslit blog, but I adored it. So, so interesting—her world, her characters, her narrative style. How does she manage to be both thought-provoking and feel-good? When I saw a novella with yet another amazing title (she is hands-down the best title-er out there, just saying), I bought it right away. To Be Taught, if Fortunate is another fascinating exploration of humanity's possible future, while also being a deep character study of science—yes, of scientists, but also of science itself: what it values, what it's good at, why it's a hallmark of our species and the ultimate reason to have hope for where we're headed. By the end of the novella I cared as much about the future of science as I did about the characters—who were all lovely and interesting and maybe they got along a little too well to be believable, but isn't it sometimes nice to read a book where the conflict isn't about people being mean to each other? Just saying.

I have written quite a bit about Lois McMaster Bujold, despite her never writing anything remotely YA—I just love her so much I can't help myself. She's been dropping novellas about Penric and his resident chaos demon, Desdemona, like little surprise fruits for the past several years, and I'm always thrilled to get another one. Penric is getting pretty powerful these days, as he and Desdemona figure out how to work together, and in Orphans of Raspay he gets very pissed off. You shouldn't piss off someone harbouring a chaos demon. Just saying. What I love about this series (and the World of the Five Gods series, same world, same religion) is the way she explores how gods could work in the world without infringing on human agency. I also love the humour. And Penric. I just love Penric. He has to be one of the best depictions of an ethical character—his conflicts are all about how to be ethical when you have the power to do whatever the hell you want, and there's room for a lot of humour there.

Speaking of humour, I can always rely on T. Kingfisher. She understands that all plots are jokes (you have to set up your punchline), and her comedic timing is impeccable. Also she has a deep well of absurdity. Don't be misled by the young protagonist and his armadillo familiar: this is not a children's book. When Ursula Vernon is being T. Kingfisher, she can do pretty horrific violence and some genuinely scary bits. (Some reviewers have pointed out that kids do read scary and violent things. I would recommend reading it yourself before giving it to anyone under 13.) Minor Mage has everything I like about Vernon/Kingfisher: unflinching understanding of the worst of humanity combined with loving depictions of its best; not-particularly-special protagonists who muddle their way into heroism; folktale elements teased apart and turned into very weird, very brilliant world-building. And laugh-out-loud funny scenes juxtaposed with insight and wisdom, in the best Terry Pratchett style.

Speaking of science (we were a few paragraphs ago!), A Natural History of Dragons is another delightful exploration of the scientific method and the characters of people who are obsessed with Finding Things Out. (And if you think "delightful exploration of the scientific method" is an oxymoron, this might not be the book for you.) I loved Isabella, and I loved the narrative style, which pretends to be all distant and objective but actually reveals how deeply Isabella feels. (And is also quite slyly funny a lot of the time.) This first book of The Memoirs of Lady Trent describes a young Isabella desperate to study dragons but destined to lead the restricted life of a Victorian lady. The narrator is older, wildly successful dragonologist Isabella, so we know she succeeds, but the gap between where she begins and where she apparently ends up is a fascinating one to see slowly filled in. These books are gorgeous, with lovely illustrations, and I now have a terrible dilemma: do I buy the discounted e-book collection that has all five books, or do I fork out for the paper editions?

I'm feeling my way back into reading and writing, and authors who know what they're doing and who believe the world, and people, are full of potential and are worth saving are a lifeline to me. Have you read anything lately that has given you hope and confidence? Or just made you laugh?

Saturday, June 1, 2019

Top Ten books to take travelling right now

Whooosh! That's the sound of May rushing past before I had time to blink. My reading in May was almost exclusively comfort rereading. Things are going on IRL—some good, some not-so-good—and sometimes you just need to fill your head with beloved characters and a plot you know by heart.

Now it's almost June, and I'm leaving on a jet plane next week, which brings me to my annual (or so it seems to be becoming) What Books Am I Going to Put on My Phone For the Trip post. I'm perusing all your blogs for ideas and would love to get more suggestions in the comments.

Travel reading needs to be easy and light; after a few hours on a plane your brain turns to mush, so complex plots and dense prose just aren't going to go down. (Rereading is actually perfect for flights, but I've done enough of that.) You also need to bring a lot of different options, because sometimes travel brain wants one kind of thing and sometimes it just doesn't.

I usually try to find books set in the places I'm going, just to get me all inspired. This time it's Italy—Rome, Florence, Tuscany, Venice—so maybe I should revisit Mary Hoffman's Stravaganza series. Any other suggestions?

What I've got so far:


From the library:









Ghosts of Greenglass House, by Kate Milford: been on my TBR forever!

The Mortal Word, by Genevieve Cogman: newest Invisible Library book—so excited! Absolutely perfect airplane reading: fast-paced and funny.

Sourdough, by Robin Sloan: my engineering student son just learned how to make sourdough, so how can I not read a novel about a programmer taking care of a neighbour's sourdough mother. (Also you must listen to the funny Stuart McLean story about taking care of a neighbour's sourdough mother. (story starts at 19:20))










The Lost Girl, by Anne Ursu: I've been looking forward to getting my hands on this one.

The Chocolate Kiss, by Laura Florand: Paris, not Italy, but chocolate. Loved the first one.

Nights of the Round Table, by Tanya Huff: funny short stories are ideal plane fare.

Sorcerer to the Crown, by Zen Cho, audiobook: the new one is out, so I should reread this one, and all the better if I can do it with my eyes closed!

Decided to buy:









Toad Words and Other Stories, by T. Kingfisher: more short stories and I love every word this woman writes, so this was a no-brainer

The Starfighter Invitation, by Andrea K. Host. Always willing to try new Andrea Host.

Kat, Incorrigible, by Stephanie Burgis. Because I haven't actually read this series yet, and why haven't I?

A Sword Named Truth, by Sherwood Smith (preordered; it comes out on June 11): extremely excited about this one. If you've read Crown Duel and A Stranger to Command, you're probably excited, too.

Lent, by Jo Walton: I love her writing, and this is fantasy about Savonarola, a key figure in Florence history. How fortuitous!

By now you can tell there's nothing Top Ten about this list—clearly I can't count, and this is a pretty random collection based on what was available at the library, what I've read about on blogs recently, and fave authors I decided to look up on Amazon. But it would make a great Top Ten list idea, wouldn't it?? What would go on your list?