R. A. Salvatore

After all this time I honestly began losing hope that my method of randomly choosing books from library shelves would ever net me my next favorite series, one where I simply crave the next book and devour one after another. Then I found R. A. Salvatore's Drizzt Do'Urden saga.
I had never heard of Forgotten Realms before, had no idea that it was a Dungeons & Dragons universe or whatever, that it was popular high fantasy. The universe was first created by Ed Greenwood. I have read one of his books now, Swords of Eveningstar, which was a big clusterfuck of new characters getting introduced in every other scene and too many settings that I didn't understand. I've decided to really try and locate the first ever book he set in the Forgotten Realms, in hopes that it will make a bit more sense.
By chance, the very first Forgotten Realms book I picked was Homeland, the very first book chronologically that follows the life of the apparently famous dark elf, Drizzt. It was tough going, because some of it takes place even before Drizzt is born, and everyone is just a big evil meaniepants. There was no one I actually wanted to read about, which was frustrating, no characters I actually liked at all. Sure, sometimes reading about the characters you hate is fun, but I didn't actually hate any of the characters either. It was not engaging.
The hook for me was Guenhwyvar. From the first mention of a huge, majestic, magical black panther, I was absolutely enthralled. I think having a black panther familiar would pretty much be the most awesome badass thing ever, and that is basically what happens to Drizzt.
Cats, my one weakness.
And so I continued reading. I have now read 15 Drizzt books, and my next one is The Two Swords, which I would be getting tonight if the damn libraries didn't close for federal holidays. Will have to wait until tomorrow. :(
I've also read the Cleric Quintet, a companion series for the Drizzt books that follow the adventuresome times in the life of Cadderly, a cleric (hence, you know, the Cleric Quintet). The paths of Cadderly and Drizzt cross a few times, apparently, and they become friends.
Overall I really like Salvatore's mostly-realistic conversations between characters. Sure, as in a lot of fantasy, everyone's sort of melodramatic, but past that you could see yourself asking the same questions if you were in the same situation, if you get my drift. The characters develop beautifully.
What I don't like is the unending series of impossible-to-win fights that, of course, the protagonists pretty much always win. I don't mind fight scenes, in fact I enjoy them, but when the odds are literally impossible, and the main characters keep winning, it gets old and I get less and less impressed.
But like I said... I'm pretty much addicted to this series. I have read several of these book in one sitting each. Just give me five hours, a mug of cocoa, a blanket, and a cat on my stomach, and boom, there goes a book. I read three of these books in rapid succession on the plane to Hawaii. I wonder if I should reread them, since I probably skimmed through a lot of details. It's a lot of book to reread..

I think I have also read a few random books in the past couple months, but the only one I can recall is Medalon by Jennifer Fallon. Good story. First of three novels, I think, and I also think I wanted to read the rest of them before I got sidetracked by Salvatore. Can't remember much about it. Magic, destiny, and so forth... I liked the political intrigue, it'd been a while since I'd read anything like it. I'll probably revisit it when I'm done with my current series.


EDIT 11/19: Well, I have read through the Transitions trilogy, which is a conclusion to the Drizzt books in a lot of ways, but is also not... Certainly a whole chapter of Drizzt's life closes, and Cadderly's, but it's a horrible way to leave things, with so much death and turbulence and the remaining characters trying to pick up the pieces. Honestly I think the end of this book really, really bothered me.
Was I supposed to feel good for the characters that ended up in eternal paradise? Because that eternal paradise plane really seemed like a farce to me. A lie, a parody of the actual lives they had led. I think it was supposed to be rewarding, though. And so I am confused and I don't think I can just leave things here, and I'll have to read the Neverwinter series to at least see what comes next in the plane of the living.
The night after I finished this book I woke up from a disturbing dream about someone that had died that was not particularly close to me, but that was apparently close with the people around me. So I watched those people suffer and go through all those various reactions to death depending on their relationship, and I watched things 'cool down' so that it became more of the elephant in the room than anything, and it was weird and annoying and sent me back to my own experiences with people dying (which have been mercifully few but still painful) and the aftermath and watching people try to come back together and cope when being torn apart inside.
I think the paradise bothered me because I didn't like the idea of after-living in a lie. It's almost like they're brainwashed to be happy regardless of the circumstances. In comparison with one's life, anyway, which I realize could very well be that we have all been brainwashed into what we are here, and perhaps all this isn't real and so on and blah blah blah who the hell really knows.
Congratulations, Mr. R.A. Your books got under my skin.

The Dragon Book, Nine Princes in Amber, the Esther Diamond series, & Discworld

I don't like reading short stories. They can be so insubstantial, here and gone in the space of a moment without leaving any sort of impression. You have to get sucked in to an entire world, but only for a little while. So that makes things difficult on the writer; fine. I appreciate this.
The Dragon Book is a collection of short stories about saltwater fly-fishing. Just kidding, it's about dragons. Is there even a such thing as saltwater fly-fishing? *Googles* Yeah, I guess there is.
So. Dragons. They're found in myths from all across the world, and that's where the assorted stories are set- everywhere you could imagine, from nameless ice worlds, water worlds, beaches, canyons, cliffs, cities, and even the mystical land of Russia. The stories are also located in various points in time- from modern to undetermined medieval-ish times.
It's an interesting experiment, to get stories from various people and see what they come up with. Their stories contain so many different elements and travel in so many different directions, and with a buzzword like 'Dragon' you're going to get excited writers. I recognized a few names: Tamora Pierce, Tad Williams, Garth Nix, Gregory Maguire, but mostly I was looking to see if any of these authors would be worth following up on, if I'd want to read more of their work. Overall, though, I found myself a bit underwhelmed.
The best story? Tad Williams' "A Stark and Wormy Knight." This is why people should write: to take words and simply have their way with them. To verbify nouns and to marry homonymical antonyms. To create a story using unusual building blocks. I suggest reading the story to see what I mean; it is quite glorious.

After the book about dragons I finally read a novel I've had on my list for a while: Nine Princes in Amber by Roger Zelazny. The first page alone kicks some pretty major ass.
How many stories are there, do you think, that begin with someone waking up in a hospital without knowing how they got there or even who they are? It'd be interesting to read a bunch of those beginnings and compare them. It could be so simple to describe: "I opened my eyes in an unfamiliar room. I looked around. I didn't see anything I recognized. I didn't remember getting here. Then I realized I didn't know my own name." Snore.
Not Zelazny. The opening is all personality. No vanilla phrases for such a common scene.
Love, love, love the way Corwin deals with situations while concealing his amnesia, unable to tell friend from foe. The beginning is so frustratingly riveting, dripping with juicy details that have no bigger picture to be placed in.
Everything is written is such great detail that I grew bored every once in a while, though. Sorry, couldn't help it.
I also read the second Amber book, and am looking for the third!

After reading a classic, I decided I could step into the world of modern fantasy once more and try something perhaps a bit less validated. I randomly chose Laura Resnick's Disappearing Nightly, which was pretty much the same exact flavor as the October Daye books except that the heroine is more or less useless, and merely lucky and plucky.
I still like this series, though. Oh, witty urban fantasy, the fried cheesecake of sci-fi.

The last book I read was Truth by Terry Pratchett. Lord love this man and his wild stories. I can never tell when I look at his books on the shelf of the library which belong to the Discworld series, but I don't think it particularly matters. Nor does it seem to matter if you read them 'out of order.' I can't tell if there even is an order.
Anyway, whichever book you pick up will be full of perfect illogic, such as the city never having formed fire brigades, reasoning that the fire brigade would naturally want to start some fires in order to put them out. Naturally.
Sometimes my head simply wanted to burst, and I knew it was time to put the book down and try again later. Perhaps less fried cheesecake would help?...
Anyway, there are too many things I could say about this one book, Truth, but the main one is, why the hell hasn't anyone made this into a movie yet?? Sure the beginning was confusing with way too many tangents to follow without knowing which ones actually mattered, but past that- pure genius. And maybe that part was pure genius too, and I'm just to immature to recognize it.

Kathleen Bryan and Anne McCaffrey/Elizabeth Ann Scarborough

I just finished another one of those horrid books where the plot is just a cover for the romance underneath. Although it's not written that way, exactly; the romance part takes up less space than other things. The impending doom of dreadful evil magic stealing over the kingdoms and the more general coming of age is more discussed than the actual Relationship in The Serpent and the Rose by Kathleen Bryan. However the romance is the only thing I ended up caring about, and even that with only a tiny amount of 'care.' So then I'm stuck reading about the death of the duke blah blah blah the main girl is using magic blah blah blah i don't care.
You know how it goes; forbidden love, being bound by duty and tradition, etc etc. I'll let you guess- She's the daughter of a duke, ready to assume the seat of power due to the duke's failing health (which of course means attaining a husband as well) So he's a.... wait for it... yes! You got it! A peasant! It will never be. Sad day.
Not only is he a peasant, but he also becomes a knight-in-training due to his brimming, wild, uncontrollable magic that makes him special. Knights aren't exactly bound to chastity but they're very, very busy people with lots of things to do, so they generally don't go for marriage/women that often, apparently. Sad day and a half.
However, they find themselves connected, able to use their magic in ways that no one has ever heard of, as long as they are together.
You know the point where the couple just needs to get it on and be done with it? Yeah, that point comes pretty early, and passes with no satisfaction (for any party). So it goes on and on, with both parties allowing themselves infinitesimal moments of desire that end abruptly in rigid self-contol, reminding themselves that they simply cannot, and no such thing is allowed. It's frustrating. This is the intent, I guess, but everything just gets so saturated with hopeless longing that nothing else matters, even the 'main' plot of the evil king and the ancient serpent that's trying to break free of its prison. This may be ideal reading for some, but not I.


Catalyst: a Tale of the Barque Cats by Anne McCaffrey and Elizabeth Ann Scarborough, is the sort of thing I could see myself writing- a sci-fi fantasy story centering around cats. I've been going through my old stuff recently, including stories I wrote in elementary school which all invariably centered around cats; specifically, my own cat, who was apparently the most important person in my life at that time (poor Bill, she's been gone for five years now, I can hardly believe it!). I also came across a couple notebooks I had in scriptwriting class in college, in which we wrote little stories/scripts every day for exercises. A handful of the small scenes or monologues I created concerned a cat in some way. The parallel amused me.
Catalyst is not a challenging read, but a cute one. You should probably be well-disposed towards felines in order to enjoy it. It's the future, we have spaceships and live on multiple planets, and there are breeds of cat that are especially adept at stalking through spaceship halls, looking for gas leaks and other things that may go wrong.
Some of these cats and their kittens are worth lots and lots of money. Cue theft and intrigue.
Interestingly enough, some sections of the books are told from first-person POV from one of these barque kittens, a very special kitten with cognitive powers beyond many people, let alone other cats. His dry voice is some of the best reading in the novel.
There's more books that follow this one, but honestly even though it was a cute book I wasn't left feeling like I need to read the next one. And it's even about cats! I don't know what's come over me.

Piers Anthony, David Eddings

Piers Anthony's land of Xanth sounds like the best place ever if you're an adventure-seeker. Weird shit happens around every bend, and you get to pack light because things like tents and shoes and pies grow on trees. And what else could you possibly need?
I can get tired of all the puns pretty easily, though. I read The Source of Magic and Demons Don't Dream, which I think were written fairly far apart in time. In the former, the puns came and went in droves all at once, with strange, staggered pacing that would throw me off. In the latter, it seemed that there was a better rhythm, a more consistent atmosphere. The sheer wittiness is maddening in all of these books, though. But fun. Very fun.
It's the flippant overall style that makes the serious moments all the more poignant, and even touching. Sometimes it can be difficult to think of the characters as real people with real feelings (I mean, maybe that's because they're, well, not real... but that aside), so when it does hit you, it hits harder.


Okay, so I'm a longtime Eddings fan. The Belgariad and Mallorean series are two of my favorites ever. They're full of political intrigue, deep and complex characters, high adventure, and a bit of mystery and suspense. Reading Pawn of Prophecy after finishing the series is weird, because the beginning is obviously more poetic than everything after it, and sometimes I wish the whole series was that way. Because then the descriptions become a bit bland. Every character seems to have the same dry sense of humor (the author's sense of humor, I assume). I like dry humor, but for such a supposedly diverse group of characters it seemed unnatural for everyone to have the same anything.
I overlook these flaws because everything else is pretty awesome.
So I decided to try a newer series, written in this century (whoa!) by David & Leigh Eddings. It's called the Dreamers. It's not very good.
I mean, some things about it are 'good,' I guess. The authors really have talent for easing readers into a complex situation so that it still seems simple. But I can't get past how much I didn't care about anything. It was boring. The characters were so communicative as to repeat their situation about a dozen times to each other, and I got sick of hearing about things after the third time. Many plot points and character traits were simply stated, not shown. Also, everyone, again, had that same exact dry sense of humor I recognize so well.
I'm not reading the rest of the series.
I have moved on to greener shadows, and am now trying Zelazny. I read the first bit of one of the Amber books just this morning and can't currently remember any of it except I think the main character's name is Merlin and he has a magic choke-cord for a pet. So I'm coming to the conclusion that reading these from book 1 to book 10 may be a good idea.

The Hob's Bargain by Patricia Briggs

I feel safe filing this under 'fluff.' It's a cute story despite the horribly tragic opening, with little character or world development, but a very good balance between over-explaining and under-explaining things.
The world seemed so interesting yet was explored so little, but I'm not sure if that's because Briggs' other books take place in the same universe or not, and therefore gets explored more by the reader. The Hob's Bargain is a standalone novel, or at least that's what I gather from the author's book list in the beginning pages, but some of the other books might take place in the same world, I don't know.
I will probably pick up another Briggs book at some point and see if it's any better. She was recommended to readers who like Seanan McGuire, but I didn't really see any similarities in their work besides a 'strong female protagonist.' So we shall see.

Five Hundred Years After by Steven Brust

And finally, I have read every novel of Dragaera published to date.

Anyone like Alexandre Dumas? No? Yes? I recently saw a homeschool theatre production of The Count of Monte Cristo and was amazed at how much the dialog sounded like the characters in Brust's Khaavren romances. Then I read that these romances were like Brust's tribute to Dumas, and so everything made sense after that. Chicken, egg, etc.

Anyway, reading Brust's books are simply far more enjoyable to me, mostly because they're so funny. Funny is important. I can't deny skipping whole paragraphs of descriptive text, but I just assume that's my impatient brain being unable to process anything except the conversation I so look forward to. Also the political intrigue is more or less above me, so that doesn't help either.

I remember picking up The Paths of the Dead (which happens after Five Hundred Years After; yes, I read them out of order) and being thoroughly disgruntled that Vlad wasn't narrating. It was draggy and wordy and confusing. By the end of that book, though, I'd become so submerged that I was thinking in the dialog of the characters; phrases like "I should like nothing better!" popped into my head if someone asked me if I wanted to leave work early or go out to dinner that night.

What I'm trying to say is, if you pick up one of Brust's books that was 'written' by Paarfi of Roundwood, don't give up on it. And yes, you should go out and pick one of these books up. They're utterly charming.

Starfinder by John Marco

I'm not entirely sure why this was not placed in the junior or young adult fiction sections of the library; or rather, why John Marco wrote this book to be geared for adults when I think it would be much more successful among children (if in fact it wasn't misplaced; I forgot to check the genre code before I turned it back in).

A simple but compelling story, Starfinder tells of two young teenagers trying to find their place in the world. The common themes are personal sacrifice and loss of innocence, for both the adult characters as well as the younger ones. Moth and Fiona both lost their parents shortly before the story begins and become friends; yet they are perfect foils to each other even through similarities in their past. Fiona is slightly older and feels some responsibility for Moth, yet often he is the one who has to tell her to have faith and carry on. She is headstrong and reckless, yet insecure, while Moth is cautious and thoughtful, for the most part.

The children set off on a magical mystical adventure when Moth's friend and caregiver, Leroux, dies, leaving Moth with a mysterious gift: the Starfinder. Fiona's grandfather, the governor of Calios, the city in which they live, happens to be an old comrade of Leroux's, and thirsts after the Starfinder. So naturally, the two kids decide to remove it and themselves from the governor's grasp, and head into a forbidden area known only as The Reach.

There they find mermaids, dragon sages, angel-like creatures known as Skylords, centaurs, and other strange things. Antagonists shift; at first the kids run from Rendor, Fiona's grandfather, but Rendor comes to a personal epiphany and realizes he cares for Fiona herself, not the Starfinder. It turns out the King of the Skylords is the one we really should be all fighting against; he has outlawed flight to all except Skylords. So the dragons and humans who wish to be free, and claim their birthright to the sky, must band together to fight his tyranny.

So it's only a little confusing, emotionally anyway, but not impossible to shift loyalties to include Rendor among the protagonists after a time. There are battles and blood, though not too descriptive, death of friends, etc, but I still didn't think it was too mature a story for young teen readers. Overall I enjoyed the simple story, though it remains unfinished- the end was open for the next book to pick up.

The October Daye Novels by Seanan McGuire

I have a lot of problems with these books.
First and foremost, everything is a big fucking soap opera that revolves around our protagonist, a smart-aleck changeling (half-blood) who doesn't seem to be particularly likeable but for some reason everyone loves her and puts up with her anyway. I mean, her personality is hugely appealing to the reader, with snide comments and quick sharp wit, but I can't see for the life of me why the other characters like her so much. Any of them.
Or indeed why they all hate her so much. Every single person in the land of Faerie seems to fall into one of those two categories, and if they don't, they're not mentioned. She can't be so special.
I like her relationship with her squire, Quentin. They dick around amusingly whatever the situation. Everyone else, what the fuck? Really? None of the love interests make sense to me, especially the King of Cats, who should by all rights not be giving a flying fuck about October or what she does. He did have professional interest at first, I get that: October was turned into a fish for fourteen years, and upon her return he was suspicious of her and kept tabs on her to make sure she wasn't really an impostor or anything. Fine. Then he got suspicious about her bloodline, which is something most purebloods would concern themselves with. Fine. But the rest?? There's no good reason for him to care about her the way he does. It makes no sense and I don't like it.
There's also too many little tiny (or sometimes not so tiny) intimate moments for them to retain any sort of emotional power. Those kinds of moments should be used sparingly for that very reason. The eleventh time in the same chapter that someone is running for their life, touching someone tenderly on the cheek, or crying hysterically over a dead body, I stop caring altogether (yes, I'm hyperbolizing, but that's what it feels like).
Everything is also extremely personal. If someone is trying to take down the Duke and Duchess of Shadowed Hills, a big part of their motivation is that they hate October. If October is shot, stabbed, clawed, poisoned, or passed out, but does not end up dying, it's because her friends don't have anything better to do than save her ass because they love her so much. If October dies, her mother brings her back to life. If someone tries to start a war, they also kidnap October's daughter, because that just makes so much sense when you think practically, and not because they simply want to piss her off. Right?
There's also so much fangirl catering- there's formal Courts in faerie, and because October's so damn special she gets to go to them all the time, wearing lovely formal gowns even though of course she'd much, much rather be wearing jeans. Cry me a river already.
Also given everything that has happened to Toby in her lifetime, she should be emotionally, mentally, and physically broken. And she should have been those things a long time ago. No one goes through all that shit unscathed. Not that she's described as unscathed, sure, she has nightmares and whatnot, but what she really should be is locked up in a padded room because her mind's literally snapped. But no, we can just brush it off.

Also, I can't put them down.
I went through An Artificial Night, Late Eclipses, and One Salt Sea in the past five days. A Local Habitation remains my favorite, because everything wasn't so incredibly personal yet, the awful love interests hadn't quite developed, and overall it was just a great creepy little story. Recommend? Yes. There's just also things about them that bother me is all, and I really may just be nitpicking. I'm sure there's fangirls out there who would love to see Tybalt and Toby shag each other, and if so, please enlighten me as to why this would be a good direction for the plot to go in. I really just don't see it.

The Bastard King by Dan Chernenko

Even though the writing style seemed overly simplistic, The Bastard King was exactly what I haven't been getting enough of lately: good old unpretentious fantasy. The kind where things are not described in detail. Almost everything was left up to my imagination, from the way people looked to the way the castles and countryside looked. Important traits were mentioned but nothing was overdone.
In fact it seemed a little underdone in some places, and all I really mean by that is the sentence structure was a bit annoying- there were lots of very short, simple, dry sentences. Sometimes I cared, but a lot of times I didn't because I had become so submerged into the story.
It's not a very complicated plot either, and there's just enough intrigue to make it interesting. The way things were introduced slowly made it work for me. Lanius is our main protagonist, the son of the king by his seventh illegitimate wife (big scandal there, don't worry about it). He becomes king in time, but eventually is thrown to the side by our other main protagonist, Grus. The two of them rule pseudo-jointly.
This is book one, of how many, I'm not sure, but the series is called the Scepter of Mercy. Basically at some point down the road, Lanius and Grus are going to reclaim this Scepter of Mercy, which was stolen four hundred years ago, for their kingdom. That eventual event is only hinted at, so I'm not entirely sure where this whole saga is going.
I do know that I want book two.

Foundation by Isaac Asimov

Another classic! I really should read more of these, since it's probably good for my overall perspective.

Asimov is brilliant at challenging whole societies to solve complex external and internal problems with subtle solutions. However, since (at least in this book) there are sections that take place generations apart in time, the characters run together and all seem pretty much identical on a personal level. Okay, so it's the macro view and not the micro that matters. I can dig it.

I loved the beginning of this story. A young man recently graduated from college is invited to a world he's never before visited to be a part of a mysterious and progressive movement whose goal is preserving humanity's culture, essentially. He is immediately relatable: if you had never been in a new-fangled anti-gravity elevator before, you wouldn't know to hook your foot under the bar that keeps you from floating up to the ceiling either, right?

All those small details about future technology add to the charm of Asimov's writing. He can just mention that there is a personal message-capsule, and, helped by the characters' curt and casual dialog, you simply accept it, and just sink down into the alternate universe. Definitely classic.

The Golden Key by Jennifer Roberson, Melanie Rawn, and Kate Elliott

I don't want to spend a lot of time writing about this book since I spent so much reading it.

Well-written? Sure. It's divided up into 3 sections, one for each author, and wordy as hell. The first section was written in a way I found obnoxious and not at all charming. But it was different; this author had her own style. Should I hold it against her?

The symbolism runs rampant, the diction is pretty fabulous in that I think the authors must have deliberately chosen every single word and not left anything at 'good enough.'

But if I were to describe the entire plot out, you would probably wonder why in the hell it's over 800 pages for something so simple.

That first section is indeed a doozy. It must take great talent for writing about nothing to have however many pages it was for writing solely about the painting culture of Tira Virte. I mean, I wondered what these people ate, if they ever listened to music, if they had neighboring countries, etc. All I got was a bit about their religion and history as it applied to the main characters' family. And more painting.

We got into more of that in the next two parts, but not quite enough to justify the length, I felt.

Especially when the characters weren't very relatable or interesting. The main character, our anti-hero Sario, is pretty much a jerk, but the only constant person in the hundreds of years spanned, since he has found a way basically to make himself immortal. So you keep having to find new people to like, to latch on to. Not a huge problem, but like I said I didn't particularly like any of them.

This book is what I would call 'beautifully' written, but I still didn't exactly like it.

Maybe I should learn to be a better reviewer instead of blathering on about my preferences. Are there technical things I should be looking for? I think I'll try to find that out.

I, Robot by Isaac Asimov

What could I possibly say about this book? Asimov is considered one of the founders of science fiction as we know it, and I can see why.

This novel is very little like the action-packed movie that came out a few years ago, with its robots bent on domination of humans for their own good. It's a compilation of anecdotes told by an elderly Dr. Susan Calvin, a robopsychologist for U.S. Robots. The anecdotes explore some of the fascinating possible ramifications of a few very simple rules that are drilled into the programming of every robot ever manufactured, in order of importance: a robot cannot harm a human being or through inaction allow a human to come to harm, a robot must follow an order given it by a human, and a robot can act in self-defense to protect itself.

I know there are a few books that come after this one concerning a robot-hating detective from New York City and his robot sidekick, and that possibly the movie was based off the series as a whole. It still doesn't do Asimov's ideas justice. The complexities in I, Robot cannot simply be broken down for lowest-common-denominator cinema and still retain the same impact.

Starting the book was challenging, and I was slow to immerse myself in this futuristic world that takes place, like, now, almost. It was frustrating to accept Asimov's assumptions that robots function the way they do, knowing already what kind of computers and machines exist now. So I really had to work to take the hypothetical situations for granted, suspend the disbelief, and only then could I start enjoying the book.

I'd like to become more knowledgeable about fiction in general, so I think reading Asimov is probably a good move toward accomplishing that goal. I've also picked up Asimov's Foundation, which is either next or second on my list now.

Rosemary and Rue by Seanan McGuire

A slight deviation for me, the October Daye novels by Seanan McGuire are considered 'modern fantasy,' which is like here and now except with magic and fairies and other illogical things. The world of the Fae exists alongside of mortal Muggles- I mean, humans- and interacts with humans quite often, even while spells keep mortals oblivious to its existence. Humans aren't dumb, just blind, which can be just as bad, October reasons.

Rosemary and Rue and A Local Habitation are so much like some of my current favorite books, the Vlad Taltos novels, that I feel the similarities remarkable (thus, I will now remark on them). Both written in first person with a sardonic twist, you end up getting to know the main protagonist quite well.

October and Vlad are both fish out of water. October is what is known as a changeling- half Fae, half human, without a place in the world she can easily belong. In the world of the Fae, she is scorned as a half-breed, as are all changelings, while in the human world she must use her weak magic to maintain her human disguise all the time. Vlad is a human, or Easterner, in a city of elves, or Dragaerans, as they're called. Both October and Vlad run their own business- after a fashion- and end up having to solve very strange and sometimes complex cases or murder or intrigue. Both October and Vlad end up getting injured so often it's an absolute miracle they're alive at all, but I guess that's what makes them worth reading about. 

Here's some differences- too many guys keep throwing themselves, with serious intentions, at October. I'm sick of it. She can't be that special. Another thing- when reading about the political structure of Fae society and geneology and everything, I have yet to come across a moment where I did not understand the circumstances. The Taltos books are written such that you have to work to put the pieces together, and read each book several times in order to understand what is going on. Both worlds, Fae and Dragaera, and very complex, and yet in McGuire's books I have not felt confused yet. I don't necessarily think of this as a plus, either- I love a challenge, I love it when the author gives me a bit more than I can actually handle, so that I can choose to rise to the occasion. I was not so challenged reading about October Daye.

In fact, I was able to guess most of the endings and twists in the two books I read upsettingly early on. It's frustrating when you are sure you know the answer and it's right in front of the protagonist's face and yet they can't see it- it makes me lose faith in them. I am utterly convinced that Vlad Taltos is much smarter than me. October Daye, I'm still not sure about.

Apparently I have to get all the negative out of me first when I'm talking or writing about a book. I very much enjoyed A Local Habitation. It was sufficiently creepy and disturbing, with a very well thought-out overall plot, and characters whose motives made sense. I was more iffy on Rosemary and Rue (which is why I picked up the second book- to give the series another shot) where the plot twists were just a little too convenient and some things were annoyingly left unexplained (things that shouldn't have been, I mean; things that seemed pertinent to this particular story). And even though I didn't think much of Rosemary and Rue, you cannot skip it- too much backstory.

But what a fascinating, rich world McGuire has created. I'm looking forward to An Artificial Night.

The Sword by Bryan Liftin

Reading The Sword by Bryan Liftin is a similar experience to reading the Bible in a couple ways. They are both full of one-dimensional characters that don't seem real, whose actions feel preordained. Not that I've read a lot of the Bible.

Seriously though, as Liftin guided me through the kingdom of Chiveis, I didn't encounter a soul who had another layer of personality underneath the one they presented. Oh, things simply aren't what they seem, you say. Well then, read the book and decide for yourself.

Here is an example of 'perfect' protagonists. The heroine, Anastasia, is almost too good to be true. Honestly I don't believe she had a single flaw in her, especially compared to the other female roles. She's beautiful, smart, strong, agile, knowledgeable, curious, cautious, and faithful. She's the foil to every single other woman I met while reading this book. Lina was bubbly and giggly and a little airheaded. Habiloho was selfish, reckless, and blinded by desire for revenge. The High Priestess was a bitch for absolutely no good reason except it was her job. Succula was a lonely adulteress. Ana's mother may not have been necessarily flawed, but she was just kind of there, not one to take great progressive strides and break molds the way Ana did.

The hero, Teofil, is skilled in just about everything ever. He struggles with faith, and that's supposed to be a character flaw in this book. Therefore, I guess he's not perfect. Or something.

It's obvious that Ana and Teofil are meant for each other. I liked that they had fights and struggles (I hate it when everything just works out perfectly), and yet when it seemed natural for them to finally jump each other's bones, they didn't. I give a point to the author for doing the unexpected in this regard. But why? I have NO IDEA. It didn't seem to make sense. Maybe it had something to do with dedicating themselves to their newfound religion of Christianity.

Yes, it's a religion book. A few hundred years in the future we've all but destroyed ourselves as a race and are now building ourselves back up again. Christianity is lost, until it is found again by our heroes. They current dominant religion is something ridiculous that involves orgies in forests, blowing up innocent people, and making offerings of excrement. Obviously Christianity is the right way to go, when compared to that, right? So why is everyone in the book so damn stupid about it?

Ana is stupid (this is from my perspective) because she dives headfirst into Christianity and suddenly believes it and thinks it's okay to preach in very hostile streets about it. Teo is stupid because he has second thoughts about Christianity and then dives headfirst into it. He didn't actually reason out his second thoughts, it was just more of a feeling he had. Valent (I think that's his name, I don't really remember) is stupid because he cares more about being the leader of the group than the actual message. The High Priestess is stupid because she's blinded by evil. Habiloho is stupid because she's blinded by desire for revenge.

Maybe I just think religion is stupid.

Religion is definitely dangerous. I find it fascinating to study, which is why I picked up The Sword in the first place. Habiloho says it herself; you can scare people with religion, and she wants that power for herself.

There wasn't really any of the discussion that I was looking forward to though, aside from that. I wanted explanations about why people have religion, not why people need Christianity. I should probably be reading a different book for that. I'm not looking for a preachy message here. 

This is all personal preference. Obviously I think you'd like The Sword if you're a devout Christian already; I'm just not the target audience. 

Here's another thing I disliked- the pages in the beginning that accounted for why we have regressed. I don't need to know that there was a virus and then nuclear winter. Why in the hell does that matter, even a little, to have me know that before I start reading this book? Do I even need to know about it being in the future? Wouldn't it have been more excitingly dramatic to reveal these things through the course of the story instead of handing them out like Halloween candy at the beginning? Maybe that's not what is important. The author's message may be more preachy than excitingly dramatic.

I feel bad writing bad things. Liftin is a PhD and a professor of theology; he's most definitely smarter than I am, and probably put a ton of thought and planning into his story. I have no credentials, but I do have a brain, and I do have preferences; take that as you will.

I did read the whole novel in one day. What does that mean? Either the story was gripping, or easy to read, or I have too much time on my hands. But most importantly: did I come away caring what happens next?... No, not really.

Wizard's First Rule by Terry Goodkind

The book I picked up before this may have been in the Sci-Fi/Fantasy section, but it belonged on the Romance shelves. The Sharing Knife sounds reasonably like a title for a story of action and violence, right? That was my thought, but it turned out I was wrong. So, I got to read about how Fawn and Dag met and fell in love even though they were 30 or 40 years apart in age (and we’re not talking like, vampires or elves where they live forever and therefore 30 or 40 years is nbd, I mean they were humans, and he was 55 and she was 18) and came from completely different societies and their families and friends were simply shocked and appalled that this had ever come about but they loved each other anyway and wanted to get married after knowing each other for a week and live happily ever after together despite it being a terrible awful idea.

 

It was a learning experience, though. My original idea was to not read the back covers of the books in advance, at least not too thoroughly, because sometimes that spoils some surprises. However it was pointed out to me that the romance novels all have the same exact story synopses right there on the back:

The Girl, who comes from blah blah blah, is beautiful or special or maybe not but is our Heroine anyway.
The Guy, who is a dark and mysterious or maybe a nice and thoughtful guy, is from some other place and blah blah blah.
Together, they will blah blah blah. And maybe fall in love? Who knows…

So, I now know to stay away from those books. No, I didn’t know that before, I’d never picked up a romance novel in my life and I hope to never do so again.

The story was a little interesting, at least at first, but then it became apparent that the story and drama I wanted didn’t really matter. The important, driving part was how The Relationship flew in the face of tradition in every way. Which was not nearly as interesting to me. The author, it said in her bio, was one of the best writers in the genre, which blew my mind. But then they always say stuff like that in bios and whatnot, right? The point is, ‘romance’ is not for me. If this is one of the best writers in that genre, yet I had to convince myself to finish the book purely out of principle, then it’s just not for me. It may not be bad, exactly, just not what I enjoy reading personally. At all.

So when I picked up Wizard’s First Rule, I was slightly apprehensive. The synopsis wasn’t quite like the formula I wrote out above, but it still made sure to mention Richard and Kahlan in a way that left no doubt their destinies were intertwined, most likely as lovers. Still, it was a nice thick book which would certainly take me a while to read, and therefore keep me busy during rush hour for a good few days.

The romance was certainly a driving factor, but it was still not a ‘romance’ novel, thankfully. The first few chapters latched onto me and sucked me right in, and I didn’t look back. Everything was introduced slowly, as opposed to when an author drops a ton of bricks on you all at once and you’re supposed to remember not only the size and color of each brick, but where it hit you and how hard and how much time was in between each blow. This latter method also is indicative of my biggest pet peeve when reading: that the author feels the need to spell everything out for you.

I supposed there’s two reasons why an author may feel the need to lay everything out there for you instead of letting you figure it out. One is that they think you are stupid and need it all spoon-fed to you. The other is that they have an IMAGE in their head of what their world is like that they want you to see, with absolutely no room for interpretation. They don’t want you to make discoveries on your own, they want to lead you around and point out everything you need to know directly. This bothers me very much, because not only do I enjoy reading about 'your' world and making it my own, it tamps down on people’s imaginative abilities, forcing them back into a passive mode of reading.

Terry Goodkind introduced me to his world without making me feel stupid. He let me follow Richard around the woods and make discoveries with him. I liked Richard from the outset as well; he was a strong, capable character with good moral sense. How can you not like that? Richard’s flaws were also introduced, which made me happy, because seriously who can stand it when the hero is the absolute embodiment of perfection?

The wizard, Zed, was also a likeable guy, reminding me of Belgarath from David Eddings’ universe (except that Belgarath is a much more complex and fleshed-out character in all; in fact, the characters are all well fleshed-out and multi-dimensional in the Eddings novels, which is the best part about those books). Kahlan also proved to be agreeable for more reasons than she was just ‘supposed’ to be (which happens more often than not when dealing with heroines, I think), showing steely resolve and intellect.

The story took a sudden dark and sinister turn at some point, though, that completely threw me. It just felt kind of... wrong. The plot started going strange places, with some very convenient circumventing of the rules of magic, or at least it felt that way, and yet the ending was still predictable.

I picked up the third book in this series, Blood of the Fold, and read that too (yeah, I had to skip the second one, that’s what I get for not actually making reservations at the library and just taking my chances that they’ll have what I want). It also traveled down a dark vein, but had some very uplifting moments. Maybe it had to do with missing out on book two, but I didn’t feel as connected to the characters anymore.

Nevertheless, I LIKED these books, very much, and sometime I will get around to finishing up the series (or what has been published so far). I’d recommend them to people who like that nice dark overtone in their fantasy.

Begin: Why this blog exists

I live in The Suburbs and work in The City. If you do too, then you, like me, have time to kill every day. A few months ago I started working full-time in the city, and began slugging- excuse me, carpooling. So what do you do while you sit in someone else's car for 45 minutes (on a good day, I mean, it can take twice that time if there's any amount of traffic, and don't even get me started on when it rains or snows)? Listen to music, sure, that's definitely an option. Talk to the other passengers? Absolutely not. Watch I-395 go by? That gets old quick.

As a kid I read constantly. I loved fantastical stories. My dad would come into my room at the end of his workday and attempt to engage me in conversation, and if I was reading, he learned to leave in a hurry.

Through college, I hadn't read fiction hardly at all, what with one thing or another (working, getting my degree, you know, the little things). A year or so ago my friend gave me a book called Jhereg by Steven Brust, who is now my current favorite author. Getting into a new series caused me to reflect on my past reading habits. I liked to style myself as an 'avid reader' and lover of the fantasy genre, but really I had found maybe four series and stuck with them for years. In elementary school, it was Redwall by Brian Jacques and the Animorphs books by K.A. Applegate. In high school it was the Belgariad books by David Eddings and the Lord of the Rings books. Harry Potter was a constant. I read a few other books here and there, of course, but these were my main loves, and I kept coming back to them time and time again.

I have since decided to branch out. My project is to take a random book or three at a time from the library shelves, probably from the Fantasy/Sci-fi section for the most part, and read them. I am on a quest for good stories, for good fantasy. I've read a handful of these random books already and so far have been mostly disappointed, but I am liking the newness of every novel I pick up. It's refreshing.

I want to chronicle and review these books, mostly for my own reference. I hope to become a better reader and maybe a better writer, and more knowledgeable about fiction in general. I'd love recommendations, too, but part of the fun is just going to the shelves, finding a cover I like, making sure it's Book One if it's part of a series, and just going with it. I have about two free hours built in to my day now, why not use them for something I've been meaning to do for a long time?