Sunday, January 28, 2018

Two Classic Science Fiction Novels come to TV, Bookstore Cats, The Great American Read, The Lost Plot by Genevieve Cogman, These Vicious Masks by Tarun Shanker and Kelly Zekas, Miss Kopp's Midnight Confessions by Amy Stewart, and Romancing the Inventor by Gail Carriger


I am really looking forward to these series!

TV: Fahrenheit 451, Catch-22
HBO has released the first teaser for its adaptation of Ray Bradbury's
Fahrenheit 451
which will air this spring. The Verge reported that the video
"highlights the most vivid part of the novel, showing a burning copy of
Crime and Punishment that's dropped onto a pile of other controversial
books, which is set on fire by a firefighter wielding a flamethrower."

Michael B. Jordan (Creed) and Michael Shannon (Man of Steel) star as
Montag and his superior Captain Beatty, respectively. Director Ramin
Bahrani (Man Push Cart, Chop Shop) told critics during the Television
Critics Association winter press tour that Bradbury's novel is
pressingly relevant this year, but the movie isn't designed as an
anti-Trump film. "I don't want to focus so much on [Trump] because I
don't want to excuse the 30, 40 years prior to that. He's just an
exaggeration of it now."

Catch-22
a "high-profile limited series" based on the Joseph Heller novel, has
landed at Hulu, Deadline reported, adding that the streaming service
closed a deal for a six-episode straight-to-series order. George Clooney
stars and co-directs (with Grant Heslov) the project, which is written
by Luke Davies and David Michôd. Clooney and Heslov executive
produce via Smokehouse Pictures alongside Davies and Michôd, as
well as Anonymous Content's Richard Brown and Steve Golin. Filming is
slated to begin early this year.


Who doesn't love bookstore kitty cats? And I think it's a great idea for PBS to have a group reading program. I look forward to participating in it.

Bookstore Cats 'Worth Road Tripping For'

Showcasing "17 bookstore cats worth road
tripping for," Fodor's wrote: "There are plenty of reasons to plan road
trips, but there aren't any cuter itineraries than one full of America's
bookstore cats. Independent bookshops across the nation employ kitties
as greeters, lap-warmers, creative directors, and social media mavens,
combining two of the world's favorite joys: books and cats!"

PBS Unveils Details for 'The Great American Read 2018'
Margaret Atwood, Junot Diaz, Lauren Graham, John Irving, Bill T.
Jones, Devon Kennard, Gayle King, Diane Lane, George R.R. Martin and
Lesley Stahl are among the impressive list of authors, celebrities and
notable figures who will participate in PBS's The Great American Read
an eight-part TV series and nationwide campaign exploring "the power of
books and the joy of reading through the lens of America's 100
best-loved novels, as voted on by the public." PBS will also partner
with literary organizations and its nearly 350 member stations
nationwide to extend the series' reach.

The ambitious initiative launches with a two-hour special event May 22,
at 8 p.m. on PBS stations (check local listings). Over the course of 15
weeks this summer, viewers can read and vote on favorite works of
fiction. The series then returns in the fall with additional episodes
exploring the nominated books through themes like "Heroes," "Villains &
Monsters," "Who Am I?," "What We Do for Love," "Other Worlds," and will
conclude with a finale and countdown to "America's Best-Loved Book." The
list of 100 titles, chosen from a demographically representative
national survey conducted by YouGov, will be made available to the
public prior to the launch episode in May.

Here are the latest books I've read, though I admit that I had some difficulty reading as much as I usually do because of a spate of Crohn's flares in the past two weeks, which have kept me too ill to read on some days. Still, I persisted! 

The Lost Plot by Genevieve Cogman is the 4th book in her Invisible Library series.
I've read all of them, and found them enjoyable, for the most part, and well written. Cogman's charming idea of having libraries in different parallel worlds (each with various time periods, from the Victorian age to the roaring 20s to the computer dominated future) where librarians with magical powers can travel and rescue books to bring back to the library for safekeeping is fascinating, and keeps the adventurous plot moving at breakneck speed. Her protagonist Irene is something of an outlier, having been born of two librarians and raised in the library itself, and she's been saddled with Kai, a dragon in human guise, as her apprentice, when dragons and the fae aren't supposed to become librarians because they're not human, and they are at war, in the sense of a cold war stand off. But Kai has fallen in love with Irene, which is also not allowed, and the two have traversed worlds and protected one another from a variety of villains. Here's the blurb:
After being commissioned to find a rare book, Librarian Irene and her assistant, Kai, head to Prohibition-era New York and are thrust into the middle of a political fight with dragons, mobsters, and Fae.
In a 1920s-esque New York, Prohibition is in force; fedoras, flapper dresses, and tommy guns are in fashion: and intrigue is afoot. Intrepid Librarians Irene and Kai find themselves caught in the middle of a dragon political contest. It seems a young Librarian has become tangled in this conflict, and if they can’t extricate him, there could be serious repercussions for the mysterious Library. And, as the balance of power across mighty factions hangs in the balance, this could even trigger war.
Irene and Kai are locked in a race against time (and dragons) to procure a rare book. They’ll face gangsters, blackmail, and the Library’s own Internal Affairs department. And if it doesn’t end well, it could have dire consequences on Irene’s job. And, incidentally, on her life...Publisher's Weekly: Time-traveling librarian Irene and her apprentice, the dragon prince Kai, become embroiled in the machinations of draconic nobility in this enjoyable fourth Invisible Library fantasy adventure (after The Burning Page). Minister Zhao of the court of the dragon queen of the Southern Lands has been assassinated. In order to fill his post, the queen sets a series of challenges for the two candidates, Qing Song and Jin Zhi. Irene confers with Kai after Jin Zhi approaches her for help and decides that she must proceed with the utmost caution. When it becomes apparent that another agent of the interdimensional library is already involved, Library Security has no choice but to assign Irene to investigate in order to maintain the library’s strict neutrality. Irene travels to a version of 1920s New York where mobsters and police have their own dangerous agendas, as do the two powerful dragons in human form competing for the ministerial post. Irene has the difficult task of deducing what is truly happening while evading capture by the various factions. Cogman nicely balances the political intrigue and action with the complex relationship between Irene and Kai.
This is a spoiler, so if you don't want to know, don't read any further, but I have never been a fan of Kai the dragon prince, because he seems to be only playing at being a librarian, just to be near Irene. He has been nothing but a pain and hinderance for Irene, because she's had to rescue him regularly and talk her way out of trouble with his relatives constantly, though that isn't her job at all. He's controlling, arrogant and possessive of Irene, and she somehow doesn't see these as the fatal flaws that they are, and falls for him as well, which makes no sense, as he's not even human. The fact that he "retires" from his apprenticeship at the end of this dragon debacle is noble of him, but then Irene flinging herself into his arms and setting off on an affair with him is completely out of character, and could put her job, which means everything to her, in jeopardy. I suppose the romantic "shippers" will be thrilled by this turn of events, but I don't read these books for the romance in them, and I was not at all thrilled. I wanted to grab Irene by the shoulders and shake her, and tell her to move ON, for heaven's sake, because this liaison can only end in tears. Anyway, I'd give this book a B+, and recommend it to anyone who has read the other three books in the series.

These Vicious Masks by Tarun Shanker and Kelly Zekas is one of those rare beasts, a semi-self published book that is actually a good read. Color me shocked, and frankly, delighted. This delicious magical steampunk fantasy is published by a Macmillan YA imprint, "Swoon Reads" and the prose is witty, warm and engaging, as is the dancing plot. Here's the blurb: Jane Austen meets X-Men in this thrilling Victorian adventure full of magic and mysticism, perfect for anyone who loves a confident, rebellious heroine, snappy dialogue, and a hint of romance.
England, 1882. Evelyn is bored with society and its expectations. So when her beloved sister, Rose, mysteriously vanishes, she ignores her parents and travels to London to find her, accompanied by the dashing Mr. Kent. But they're not the only ones looking for Rose. The reclusive, young gentleman Sebastian Braddock is also searching for her, claiming that both sisters have special healing powers. Evelyn is convinced that Sebastian must be mad, until she discovers that his strange tales of extraordinary people are true—and that her sister is in graver danger than she feared."Striking a strong balance between romance and mystery, this novel captures society’s rules just as well as it does the unbelievable powers of the main characters. Readers will easily be swept up in its fast pace and sympathetic narrator, who is filled with both self-doubt and resolve to do anything to protect those she loves. This is a perfect pick for someone who wants a little magic in their Victorian novels, and its combination of historical fiction and mysticism will remind readers of Libba Bray’s Gemma Doyle trilogy." —Booklist
Despite the comedic wit of the dialog, the protagonist is a strong and intelligent woman who fights the restrictions of society of that era to lead a meaningful life outside of marriage and family. Evelyn is protective of her sister Rose, and she is determined to rescue her, no matter the odds, and no matter how many men try to fling themselves in front of her to act heroic and gain her regard. I loved her toughness and her brilliant mind, and I gorged on the excellent storytelling and characters. I wasn't able to put the book down once I picked it up, and I read it in one day. I can only hope and pray for a sequel. Well done, authors! I'd give it an A, and recommend this fantastic novel to anyone who enjoys British fantasy or Steampunk fiction.

Miss Kopp's Midnight Confessions by Amy Stewart is the third book in the Kopp Sisters series. I've read the previous two books, and the first in the series was a book that we read in my library book group. Because the first book of this series was so well written, I assumed that the others would be equally well done. Unfortunately, they've continued to be less enthralling with each new volume. Here's the blurb: The best-selling author of Girl Waits with Gun and Lady Cop Makes Trouble continues her extraordinary journey into the real lives of the forgotten but fabulous Kopp sisters.
Deputy sheriff Constance Kopp is outraged to see young women brought into the Hackensack jail over dubious charges of waywardness, incorrigibility, and moral depravity. The strong-willed, patriotic Edna Heustis, who left home to work in a munitions factory, certainly doesn’t belong behind bars. And sixteen-year-old runaway Minnie Davis, with few prospects and fewer friends, shouldn’t be publicly shamed and packed off to a state-run reformatory. But such were the laws—and morals—of 1916.
Constance uses her authority as deputy sheriff, and occasionally exceeds it, to investigate and defend these women when no one else will. But it's her sister Fleurette who puts Constance's beliefs to the test and forces her to reckon with her own ideas of how a young woman should and shouldn't behave.
Against the backdrop of World War I, and drawn once again from the true story of the Kopp sisters, Miss Kopp’s Midnight Confessions is a spirited, page-turning story that will delight fans of historical fiction and lighthearted detective fiction alike.
I have to admit that I have never liked Norma, the grubby and rude Kopp sister who manages their hardscrabble farm and keeps carrier pigeons for scientific research. In this edition of the story, I truly loathed her, because she's gone from grungy nuisance to mean and controlling and horrible person who has to have her own way, and who cares nothing for the feelings or ambitions of her sisters. Her heartless actions nearly get her youngest sister Fleurette jailed (or put away in a reformatory for decades) for immorality, and put her elder sister Constance in the terrible position of having to choose between family and her work as a deputy. Constance's job is the only thing keeping the sisters from bankruptcy, yet Norma doesn't seem to understand that, and just barrels in and makes trouble, even after it is patently clear that Fleurette left home of her own accord because she wants a glamorous life on the stage as a chorus girl. Fleurette herself is a selfish, spoiled and stupid girl who completely takes for granted all the kind and loving things her sisters do for her to keep her in dance lessons and music and all the fabric and notions necessary for Fleur to make her own lavish wardrobe. She steals from Constance (who indulges her because she's actually Fleur's mother, not her sister, but Fleur doesn't know this) without a qualm,and she doesn't help with all the backbreaking farm work that Norma does every day. Fortunately, Fleur gets her comeuppance when, after paying way too much money for an audition (its actually a scam), she discovers that she's not as talented and ready for the vaudeville stage as she thought she was, so she begs to go along with the troupe as a seamstress, because she assumes that she can persuade the lead actress/dancer to eventually put her on stage when she needs a substitute. What she doesn't realize is that she's too short to be a chorus girl, who all have to be of a uniform height and weight, and her country bumpkin upbringing and lack of musical talent are the real impediments to her ambitions. So she ends up never seeing the glamorous side of the stage, as she's stuck  slaving away indoors fixing all of their tattered costumes for free. She lies on postcards to her sisters, saying she's killing it on stage when nothing of the kind is actually happening. So she returns home at the end, tail between her legs, but still arrogant enough to tell her sisters she's just back temporarily. Constance manages to fix everything, but as she's the only character worth a crap in the entire novel, I was not surprised. I'd give this book a B, and only recommend it to those who loved the first two books enough to tolerate the secondary Kopp sisters.

Romancing the Inventor by Gail Carriger is a novella that is a spinoff of her Parasol Protectorate series. I've read most of Carriger's books, from her Parasol Protectorate to her Custard Protocol and Finishing School series, and I've enjoyed a majority of them for their witty prose and fascinating characters. Carriger is an excellent storyteller, and these steampunk books are rife with magical creatures, diabolical inventions and amazing adventures. Here's the blurb:
A steampunk lesbian romance featuring a maid bent on seducing a brilliant scientist who’s too brokenhearted to notice. Or is she?
Imogene Hale is a lowly parlor maid with a soul-crushing secret. Seeking solace, she takes work at a local hive, only to fall desperately in love with the amazing lady inventor the vampires are keeping in the potting shed. Genevieve Lefoux is heartsick, lonely, and French. With culture, class, and the lady herself set against the match, can Imogene and her duster overcome all odds and win Genevieve’s heart, or will the vampires suck both of them dry?
This is a stand-alone LBGTQ sweet romance set in Gail Carriger’s Parasolverse, full of class prejudice, elusive equations, and paranormal creatures taking tea. Look for surprise appearances from popular Parasolverse characters and the occasional strategic application of cognac. Supernatural Society novellas can be read in any order.
Delicate Sensibilities? This story contains women pleasing women and ladies who know what they want and pursue it, sometimes in exquisite detail.
Readers can always count on Carriger's deliciously witty prose to keep you laughing and sighing, and thirsting for a good strong cuppa tea. This novella is no exception, but though I know some readers find novellas too short, I found it to be a precious jewel of a story that was just beautiful enough to last for a brief period of wonderment, like a soap bubble on a sunny day.  The protagonists are fascinating, and I was heartened to see the cross dressing Madam Lefoux in all her resplendence here, creating steampunk machines and being French, while Imogene struggled to get Lefoux to succumb to her feelings of love for the genius parlor maid. It was difficult for me to read about Imogene's abuse at the hands of a horrible footman and the Vampire Countess, but everything was set to rights in the end, thankfully, and there were appearances by Lord Maccon and Alexia, so that brought additional savor to the book. I'd give this novella an A, and recommend it to anyone who wants a bit of romantic LBGTQ steampunk in their lives, or who needs inspiration in their love life, no matter what the configuration. 

Wednesday, January 24, 2018

RIP Ursula LeGuin and Peter Mayle, Well Read, Then Dead by Terrie Farley Moran, Death is Like a Box of Chocolates by Kathy Aarons and Love and Other Consolation Prizes by Jamie Ford


I've been reading Ursula LeGuin's ground breaking science fiction since 1969/70. I was heartbroken to learn of her death on Monday. I'd met and spoken to her at book events in Seattle three times, and each time she was so feisty and brilliant, she inspired every female wordsmith in the crowd. The first time I met her was at the Seattle Book Festival in 1993 or 94, where Studs Terkel was the guest of honor that everyone was fawning over. LeGuin gave a blistering speech after a Q&A with Terkel about women writers getting ignored for book awards and reviews, while mediocre male writers could get plenty of ink, based on gender alone. I remember her saying that over 80 percent of the awards for fiction went to male writers, and nearly all of the reviews in major publications, like the New York Times Book Review, were for male authors, as if women writers were all hobbyists and 'chick lit' or genre writers not to be taken seriously. She noted how bizarre this was because there were more female than male writers at the time, and female writers sold more books than male writers. Her like will not be seen again, but we are fortunate to have the legacy of her amazing science fiction and fantasy. RIP.

 Acclaimed Fantasy Writer Ursula K. Le Guin Has Died at 88

Ursula K. Le Guin
"the immensely popular author who brought literary depth and a
tough-minded feminist sensibility to science fiction and fantasy," as
the New York Times put it, died at her home in Portland, Ore., on
Monday. She was 88 and had been in poor health for several months.

She wrote more than 20 novels, a dozen books of poetry, more than 100
short stories, seven collections of essays and 13 children's books. She
also translated five books and wrote a guide for writers. Among her
best-known works were The Left Hand of Darkness (1969) and the Earthsea
series.

"Le Guin embraced the standard themes of her chosen genres: sorcery and
dragons, spaceships and planetary conflict," the Times wrote. "But even
when her protagonists are male, they avoid the macho posturing of so
many science fiction and fantasy heroes. The conflicts they face are
typically rooted in a clash of cultures and resolved more by
conciliation and self-sacrifice than by swordplay or space battles....

"Le Guin's fictions range from young-adult adventures to wry
philosophical fables. They combine compelling stories, rigorous
narrative logic and a lean but lyrical style to draw readers into what
she called the 'inner lands' of the imagination. Such writing, she
believed, could be a moral force."

Le Guin was wonderfully direct and outspoken in her commentary on
society and modern life--and the book world. In 2014, when she won the
National Book Foundation's Medal for Distinguished Contribution to
American Letters, Le Guin said she was sharing the award
the writers excluded from literature for so long--my fellow authors of
fantasy and science fiction, writers of the imagination, who for the
last 50 years watched the beautiful awards go to the so-called realists.
I think hard times are coming when we will be wanting the voices of
writers who can see alternatives to how we live now and can see through
our fear-stricken society and its obsessive technologies to other ways
of being and even imagine some real grounds for hope. We will need
writers who can remember freedom--poets, visionaries, the realists of a
larger reality."

She added: "Books are not just commodities. The profit motive is often
in conflict with the aims of art. We live in capitalism, its power seems
inescapable--so did the divine right of kings. Any human power can be
resisted and changed by human beings. Resistance and change often begin
in art and very often in our art, the art of words."

Last December, in a q&a
Shelf Awareness, for No Time to Spare: Thinking About What Matters, an
essay collection, she was asked, "What works of fantasy present a
realistically complex vision of a world in balance (or of female
solidarity)?"

She answered: "Trying to think about this, I realized that I was not
coming up with any fantasy that presents a realistically complex vision
of a world in balance, maybe because we are so unbalanced at this point
that imagining a real balance, even if fantasy, is not possible.

"As for a world of feminine solidarity, that is questionably desirable:
solidarity is something you call on in defense or when attacking. I
would like to imagine a world of genuine equality, without stupid gender
wars and battles of the sexes, where women did not have to consolidate
against men or vice versa. I tried to sketch such a world in The
Dispossessed. But I don't think I could write that book now."


Third Place Books, Seattle, assembled a display of Le Guin titles that
included this quote from a recent Shelf Awareness interview
There were many tributes from the book world.

Naomi Gibbs, Le Guin's editor at Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, which
published No Time to Spare, commented: "Working with Ursula was a
privilege, an honor, and a tremendous joy for me, and for many here at
HMH and elsewhere in the industry. She was an unparalleled writer who
lived an extraordinary life. She's leaving behind an incomparable body
of work, and her remarkable spirit."

Powell's Books, Portland, Ore., wrote: "Portland author and perennial
Powell's staff favorite Ursula K. Le Guin passed away on Monday at the
age of 88. Renowned for her gorgeous and deeply intelligent
contributions to the science fiction and fantasy genres, Le Guin was
also a pithy observer of American culture and a fierce advocate for
freedom of expression. Rest in peace, Ursula K. Le Guin. Powell's and
readers everywhere will miss you."

I also loved the work of Peter Mayle, whose French books were hilarious and heartwarming.

Obituary Note: Peter Mayle
Peter Mayle
"an Englishman who started a writing career in his 30s with
sex-education books for children before making a spectacularly
successful switch to the travel memoir genre with A Year in Provence,"
died January 18, the New York Times reported. He was 78. Knopf
Mayle's books since A Year in Provence was released in the U.S. in 1990.
His most recent book, The Diamond Caper, was released in 2015.

In 1987, Mayle and his wife, Jennie, moved to the village of
Mnerbes in Provence. Although he had planned to write a novel,
"with renovations to the 18th-century stone farmhouse they had bought in
full swing, he kept getting distracted. His agent finally told him to
shelve the novel and write about the distractions," the Times noted. The
book's British publisher, Hamish Hamilton, ordered only 3,000 copies,
but the book "just kept selling, reaching the million-copy mark in
England and 600,000 in the United States." It was adapted into a TV
miniseries starring John Thaw and Lindsay Duncan.

Mayle's books include a sequel, Toujours Provence, as well as Encore
Provence, A Good Year, A Dog's Life, Hotel Pastis, Acquired Tastes, The
Marseille Caper, and The Corsican Caper, along with the children's
titles Where Did I Come From? and What's Happening to Me?. In 2002, he
was honored as a Chevalier de la Legion d'Honneur for his contributions
to French culture.


Recently Facebook has had lists of "the best books of 2017" and "books to look forward to in 2018," followed by lists that break down "books you will love if you like..." lists. I am a huge sucker for book reviews and lists of genre fiction, so I indulged and then signed into my King County Library System account and put a ton of books on hold, since I am never really sure of the quality of fiction on these lists. Hence, when I read on a list of "books about bookstores with female protagonists" I jumped in and put 4 books on hold right away. The following are two of those, which are in mass market paperback form, and about as fluffy and easy to read as you'd imagine. I think they appeal to women on the go, who want to be able to read a chapter whenever they get a moment, like waiting in line or at the doctor's office. 

Well Read, Then Dead by Terrie Farley Moran is the story of two women, Sassy and Bridget, who own a cafe/bookstore in Florida called "Read Em and Eat." Because these are "cozy" mysteries, you can always count on several things, the first being that wherever they take place is going to be talked up as being a wonderful place to live and work, full of delightful characters and close friendships/relationships. There's always a body, of course, and the protagonists are always going rogue and "helping" the police solve the whodunnit because they're always convinced that they can do a better job than the police, and of course that they're smarter and in no danger from the murderer, though these last two items prove to be patently false. Here's the blurb: Nestled in the barrier islands of Florida’s Gulf Coast, Fort Myers Beach is home to Mary “Sassy” Cabot and Bridget Mayfield—owners of the bookstore café, Read ’Em and Eat. But when they’re not dishing about books or serving up scones, Sassy and Bridgy are keeping tabs on hard-boiled murder.
Read ’Em and Eat is known for its delicious breakfast and lunch treats, along with quite a colorful clientele. If it’s not Rowena Gustavson loudly debating the merits of the current book club selection, it’s Miss Augusta Maddox lecturing tourists on rumors of sunken treasure among the islands. It’s no wonder Sassy’s favorite is Delia Batson, a regular at the Emily Dickinson table. Augusta’s cousin and best friend Delia is painfully shy—which makes the news of her murder all the more shocking.
No one is more distraught than Augusta, and Sassy wants to help any way she can. But Augusta doesn’t have time for sympathy. She wants Delia’s killer found—and she’s not taking no for an answer. Now Sassy is on the case, and she’d better act fast before there’s any more trouble in paradise.Includes a buttermilk pie recipe! 
There are, literally, dozens of these play on words, or pun-titled mysteries being published in MM paperbacks every 6 months to a year, and they always involve food in some way and always include a recipe at the end, which has become really annoying to readers like myself who don't give a fig for some recipe we will never make. They're so formulaic that they're nearly interchangeable, so its never hard to figure out who committed the crime, well before the end. So it was with this book, which made Fort Myers sound like a great town, when I know, from having lived in Florida, that it's a nondescript place that is as boring and grubby as most of the towns in Florida. These two women never discuss the difficulty of keeping books from warping in the humid heat, or keeping the myriad of bugs out of the store because bugs in Florida are voracious and will eat anything, including paper books and the glue that binds them (I never bought a book in Florida without first shaking it, hard, to get the roaches, or silverfish, or other bugs out of it before I took it home.) Still, the part about crabby, grumpy old retirees being a pain rang true, and Sassy isn't quite as stupid and reckless as the heroine from the next book, "Death is Like a Box of Chocolates." The prose is simple and the plot breezy, but this kind of reading is as satisfying as fluffy cotton candy. Sassy is not too bright, and kind of wimpy, but she eventually gets the job done. I'd give it a C+, and recommend it to anyone who wants something to read on a long airplane flight or boat trip.

Death Is Like a Box of Chocolates by Kathy Aarons is another formulaic cozy mystery, this time set in West Riverdale, Maryland (the towns are always fake, but the states are real). The protagonists are, again, two women, Erica and Michelle, who own a bookstore and chocolate shop called Chocolates and Chapters. Michelle, like Sassy from the previous mystery, isn't too bright, but her bookstore owner best friend is (but she's often made fun of in the novel for using "snob" words, that is words with more that one syllable, and Michelle is supposed to be seen as more charming and accessible because she's a child-hating ninny who snivels and whines and quakes in her boots with cowardice on a regular basis), so she has someone to organize a list of potential suspects when her neighboring business owner is killed. Here's the blurb:
Whether it’s to satisfy a craving for chocolate or pick up the hottest new bestseller, the locals in charming West Riverdale, Maryland, are heading to Chocolates and Chapters, where everything sold is to die for…
Best friends Michelle Serrano and Erica Russell are celebrating the sweet rewards of their combined bookstore and chocolate shop by hosting the Great Fudge Cook-off during the town’s Memorial Day weekend Arts Festival. But success turns bittersweet when Main Street’s portrait photographer is found dead in their store, poisoned by Michelle’s signature truffles.
As suspicion mounts against Michelle, her sales begin to crumble and her career seems whipped. With Erica by her side, Michelle must pick through an assortment of suspects before the future of their dream store melts away…

The dead person in this book is Denise, whereas in the previous one it's Delia, so it would appear these authors are charged with making alliterative dead people whenever possible.  I have the feeling that there are actually only two or three authors writing these little paperback mysteries, and they just change their pen names to suit the next little fake town's atmosphere and characters and "crime fighting female duo." The Hallmark Channel is making bank off of bringing some of these cozy mysteries to life, but even those short movies are formulaic and get pretty boring after you've watched a couple of episodes on the "Hallmark Movies and Mysteries" channel. There is always a female sleuth who has a "real" job that somehow intersects with a love of mysteries and crime solving, and she always has a second banana/sidekick who helps her, reluctantly, while also doing all the things that the protagonist seems incapable of doing, like looking after children or minding the store (or bookkeeping, or working on the computer, or making sensible choices about staying out of harms way). There is also always a handsome guy or two around to "court" the female protagonist, so that we know she's not some dried up old maid, heaven forfend, but she's "just like us" regular women and can't live her life without male attention (insert eye rolling here).   The same goes for these two books, and in this one, a handsome author sets his sights on the "pixie" like Michelle, even nicknaming her "Berry" because she has strawberry blonde hair and freckles (gag). Of course any woman with power and agency is evil, and dim-witted Michelle ends up catching the murderers and putting them behind bars, but not before she puts herself in the line of fire. I'd give this one a C, because it seemed to revel in Michelle's weakness, immaturity and stupidity. I would only recommend it to someone who can't live without chocolate, and wants to read about how chocolate candy is made between murders.

Love and Other Consolation Prizes by Jamie Ford, a local author who has become famous for writing about the Asian immigrant experience in historic Seattle, is the third book of his I've read, after his famous "Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet" (which was mounted as a play by Book it Rep Theater) and Songs of Willow Frost. Because I loved Hotel at the Corner..., I feel compelled to read every book Ford puts out, and because I also find Asian history fascinating (and now that I live in this area, there is a rich vein of immigrant history to mine) I am a sucker for buying his novels soon after they debut in expensive hardback form. In this novel, Ford takes on dual time frames with the same character who was brought to America via boat in 1902, sold into servitude in 1909 (at the Yukon Pacific Worlds Fair) and when we catch up with him in 1962, he's driving people to the Seattle World's Fair and watching the Space Needle go up, putting Seattle on the map as a going concern in the future. Here's the blurb:
From the bestselling author of Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet comes a powerful novel, inspired by a true story, about a boy whose life is transformed at Seattle’s epic 1909 World’s Fair.
For twelve-year-old Ernest Young, a charity student at a boarding school, the chance to go to the World’s Fair feels like a gift. But only once he’s there, amid the exotic exhibits, fireworks, and Ferris wheels, does he discover that he is the one who is actually the prize. The half-Chinese orphan is astounded to learn he will be raffled off—a healthy boy “to a good home.”
The winning ticket belongs to the flamboyant madam of a high-class brothel, famous for educating her girls. There, Ernest becomes the new houseboy and befriends Maisie, the madam’s precocious daughter, and a bold scullery maid named Fahn. Their friendship and affection form the first real family Ernest has ever known—and against all odds, this new sporting life gives him the sense of home he’s always desired.
But as the grande dame succumbs to an occupational hazard and their world of finery begins to crumble, all three must grapple with hope, ambition, and first love.
Fifty years later, in the shadow of Seattle’s second World’s Fair, Ernest struggles to help his ailing wife reconcile who she once was with who she wanted to be, while trying to keep family secrets hidden from their grown-up daughters.
Against a rich backdrop of post-Victorian vice, suffrage, and celebration, Love and Other Consolations is an enchanting tale about innocence and devotion—in a world where everything, and everyone, is for sale.
Ford's prose is golden, light and elegant without getting bogged down in too much historic detail. His plots are metered and never lag. Yet the heavy and uncomfortable subject matter of child slavery and prostitution (and the subsequent horrors of untreated venereal disease) distract from his usual jovial tone because you can't really make such horrors seem charming, though not for want of trying on Ford's part. So while I loved Yun/Ernest's quest for a better life free from slavery, prejudice and want, I found his love of both the Madam's daughter Maisie and Fahn/Gracie the prideful Japanese prostitute, grotesque and bizarre, almost obsessively frightening. The fact that he makes a choice between them out of necessity, and that he still regrets that choice decades later because his wife is riddled with syphilis (though the explanation of how she didn't pass it on to him or their daughters is more than a bit too convenient) is less romantic than gut wrenching. The fact that old white men got away with marrying their teenage "wards" well before the age of consent only added to my horror at the way young girls were treated as possessions to be bought and used and sold. The religious women who fight for prohibition and want to shut down the Tenderloin/Red Light District are portrayed as hypocritical, nasty and ugly creatures who are putting women and men out of work with their tissue thin morality. Though religious people did terrible things to the Native American children and the Asian and half Asian children in their care, I honestly didn't feel that the girl children were any better off selling their bodies and being turned into drug addicts so that they'd be compliant while they were gang raped by sailors. At least as servants to whites in big houses or at schools/universities, the young women wouldn't be subjected to the array of untreatable STDs, and driven to madness and death as a result. Honestly, though this was a good book about the time period of both worlds fairs, I can't say that I loved reading it, or enjoyed the storyline and the marginal HEA at the end. For that reason, I'm giving it a B-, and I would only recommend it to those with a desire to learn more about the seedy history of Seattle's brothels and their connection to Asian immigrants.


Tuesday, January 16, 2018

Vellichor, Thunderhead by Neal Shusterman, The Tiger's Daughter by K. Arsenault Rivera, The Nest by Cynthia D'Aprix Sweeney and Mrs Sinclair's Suitcase by Louise Walters


I wouldn't want to live in a world without vellichor. Robert Gray: An Intoxicating Sense of Vellichor

John Koenig, curator of The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows
words, defines vellichor
this way: "n. the strange wistfulness of used bookstores, which are
somehow infused with the passage of time--filled with thousands of old
books you'll never have time to read, each of which is itself locked in
its own era, bound and dated and papered over like an old room the
author abandoned years ago, a hidden annex littered with thoughts left
just as they were on the day they were captured." (Here's another


I've got four books to review this time, so lets get right to it.

Thunderhead by Neal Shusterman is the sequel to the bestselling dystopian fantasy, Scythe, which I read last year and loved. The prose was sublime and the plot of Scythe was so full of twists and turns I found myself gasping out loud at some of the events that took place. Now in Thunderhead, there are twice as many pages of Shusterman's lush prose to enjoy, along with a plot that moves at breakneck speed to reach yet another gasp-worthy conclusion/cliffhanger. Here's the blurb:
Rowan and Citra take opposite stances on the morality of the Scythedom, putting them at odds, in the chilling sequel to the Printz Honor Book Scythe from New York Times bestseller Neal Shusterman, author of the Unwind dystology.
The Thunderhead cannot interfere in the affairs of the Scythedom. All it can do is observe—it does not like what it sees.
A year has passed since Rowan had gone off grid. Since then, he has become an urban legend, a vigilante snuffing out corrupt scythes in a trial by fire. His story is told in whispers across the continent.
As Scythe Anastasia, Citra gleans with compassion and openly challenges the ideals of the “new order.” But when her life is threatened and her methods questioned, it becomes clear that not everyone is open to the change.
Will the Thunderhead intervene?
Or will it simply watch as this perfect world begins to unravel?
Because the author has 500 pages to flesh out his characters, we get a more robust view of Citra and Rowan and their master scythes. We also get journal entries from the computer AI who runs the world, the Thunderhead (formerly the Cloud in our era) who becomes increasingly aware that humans are deceptive and unscrupulous beings, and that it cannot have control over their lives if there are groups that are out of its jurisdiction, such as Scythes and Unsavories. I was totally engrossed in this novel from the first page on, and I can honestly say that there are several surprises for the characters that I didn't see coming. But to write about any of them would be a massive spoiler, which I would rather not do to my fellow readers, so I think I will just give the book a well deserved A, and recommend that anyone who has read Scythe pick up Thunderhead immediately to see what happens next!

The Tiger's Daughter by K. Arsenault Rivera was a book recommended to me because I have enjoyed reading the folklore and myths of Asia for a long time (I studied them while looking into Asian history in college). This particular tale is set up in what I can only assume is the far future or distant past of a land that has a feudal society set up that is similar to ancient Japan or China. Shefali and Shizuka are born on the same day, and have twin pine needles stuck to their foreheads. Though each is born into different circumstances (some would say different classes) with Shefali being a child of the steppes, a culture of nomadic horse tribes, vs Shizuka being the niece of the Emperor and heir to the throne of the land, they are bonded in heart and mind nearly from the moment that they meet. Here's the blurb:
Even gods can be slain
The Hokkaran empire has conquered every land within their bold reach—but failed to notice a lurking darkness festering within the people. Now, their border walls begin to crumble, and villages fall to demons swarming out of the forests.
Away on the silver steppes, the remaining tribes of nomadic Qorin retreat and protect their own, having bartered a treaty with the empire, exchanging inheritance through the dynasties. It is up to two young warriors, raised together across borders since their prophesied birth, to save the world from the encroaching demons.
This is the story of an infamous Qorin warrior, Barsalayaa Shefali, a spoiled divine warrior empress, O Shizuka, and a power that can reach through time and space to save a land from a truly insidious evil. Publisher's Weekly: Rivera’s wonderfully intricate Asian-inspired epic fantasy debut introduces two young women bound by fate: Shizuka, whose uncle is the Emperor Yoshimoto, and Barsalyya Shefali Alshar, whose mother is Kharsa Burqila, the ruler of the Qorin. Omens are present at the birth of both children: a pair of pine needles visible between their eyes. Though they come from very different backgrounds— Shefali is a horsewoman of the Qorin steppes and Shizuka the pampered heir of the Hokkaran Empire—their mothers determine that the omen means the pair will be lifelong friends. This initial association propels the two young women into grand adventures that become the stuff of legend as they discover the extent of their superhuman powers. Rivera’s immense imagination and finely detailed world-building have produced a series introduction of mammoth scope.
Though I found the prose difficult to decipher at first (somewhat like reading Shakespeare, you just have to wrap your head around the language until it starts to make sense), once I delved deeper into the novel, the epistolary style began to grow on me and become more intimate, as if I were reading the diaries of two young lovers. It's inevitable that they defy authority to be together to fight the evil blackness that consumes many of their people, but it never becomes too cliched or comic-book superhero-like. Even though the things they do seem to be impossible, the way that Rivera writes the characters normalizes even the most dazzling displays of magic. Another A, with a recommendation for those who appreciate Asian legends modernized with LBGTQ characters.

The Nest by Cynthia D'Aprix Sweeney is February's pick for my Tuesday Night Library book group. It has gotten rave reviews from all the right places, and it has been blurbed by the likes of SNL comedian Amy Poehler and self help guru Elizabeth Gilbert. Hence, I assumed it would be a book full of wit and ribald humor, with unforgettable characters and a slick plot. Unfortunately, like many books with a crap ton of hype and famous blurbers, it was a huge disappointment in the real world, where the rest of us lowly bookworms live and work. Here
is the blurb:
Every family has its problems. But even among the most troubled, the Plumb family stands out as spectacularly dysfunctional. Years of simmering tensions finally reach a breaking point on an unseasonably cold afternoon in New York City as Melody, Beatrice, and Jack Plumb gather to confront their charismatic and reckless older brother, Leo, freshly released from rehab. Months earlier, an inebriated Leo got behind the wheel of a car with a nineteen-year-old waitress as his passenger. The ensuing accident has endangered the Plumbs' joint trust fund, “The Nest,” which they are months away from finally receiving. Meant by their deceased father to be a modest mid-life supplement, the Plumb siblings have watched The Nest’s value soar along with the stock market and have been counting on the money to solve a number of self-inflicted problems. 
Melody, a wife and mother in an upscale suburb, has an unwieldy mortgage and looming college tuition for her twin teenage daughters. Jack, an antiques dealer, has secretly borrowed against the beach cottage he shares with his husband, Walker, to keep his store open. And Bea, a once-promising short-story writer, just can’t seem to finish her overdue novel. Can Leo rescue his siblings and, by extension, the people they love? Or will everyone need to reimagine the futures they’ve envisioned? Brought together as never before, Leo, Melody, Jack, and Beatrice must grapple with old resentments, present-day truths, and the significant emotional and financial toll of the accident, as well as finally acknowledge the choices they have made in their own lives.
This is a story about the power of family, the possibilities of friendship, the ways we depend upon one another and the ways we let one another down. In this tender, entertaining, and deftly written debut, Sweeney brings a remarkable cast of characters to life to illuminate what money does to relationships, what happens to our ambitions over the course of time, and the fraught yet unbreakable ties we share with those we love.
I didn't find this novel to be tender, entertaining, witty or remarkable. The Plumb siblings are all in dire need of therapy, probably due to the fact that their mother is a narcissistic nutball who had no idea how to parent her children. Now she's taken millions out of the Nest to pay off a waitress who lost a foot when she was giving Leo, the eldest sibling, a hand job in his car, because he lied to the waitress (who is Latina, what a surprise, not) and told her he could help her music career. Leo is a complete asshole who uses people, lies, cheats and steals all throughout the novel, and yet he somehow gets a pass from everyone because he's handsome and has a veneer of charm (hiding the heart of a monster who really cares nothing for anyone but himself). He actually has two million dollars secreted away in offshore accounts, so he could pay back the Nest and save his siblings from their bad choices, but he chooses instead to lie to them that he's got a project he's working on that will redeem him, but inevitably doesn't when his horrible behavior and bad deals finally catch up with him. Of course, instead of telling everyone what has happened, he flees the country, leaving behind a pregnant ex-girlfriend and angry siblings who are somehow surprised that he's still an asshole. Brother Jack, who has been called "Leo Lite" is similar enough to his sibling that when his partner finds out that he's lied and taken out loans on a cottage they both own, there is the inevitable break up, but Jack somehow ends up seeing this as "freeing," instead of owning up to his bad behavior. Melody, who is a control freak of a mother and creepily surveils her twin daughters, becomes an even worse mother when one of the twins turns out to be gay. When she asks her gay brother Jack for advice he says "You don't want advice, you just don't want her to be gay." Bea is the most pathetic of the characters, a writer who used Leo's wild life to write a book that was popular, but now can't seem to write anything else that isn't based on her brother, because she's a childish, wimpy, whiny idiot.  She does manage to write something in the end, but she of course has a boyfriend by that time, so she can continue to play the spineless innocent. Blech. The prose was flat and the plot dull, constructed without any surprises. I have to give this novel a C, and I'd only recommend it to those who like novels about reprehensible people living in New York. 

Mrs Sinclair's Suitcase by Louise Walters was recommended to me by a friend who noticed that I like books about people who work in libraries or bookstores. It has a historical mystery involved, which I usually enjoy in a novel, and it has a female protagonist. So I was all set to fall in love with the book when I started reading it, but grew slightly dismayed over the course of the first two chapters by how slowly the plot was moving. Here's the blurb: Roberta, a lonely thirty-four-year-old bibliophile, works at The Old and New Bookshop in England. When she finds a letter inside her centenarian grandmother’s battered old suitcase that hints at a dark secret, her understanding of her family’s history is completely upturned. Running alongside Roberta’s narrative is that of her grandmother, Dorothy, as a forty-year-old childless woman desperate for motherhood during the early years of World War II. After a chance encounter with a Polish war pilot, Dorothy believes she’s finally found happiness, but must instead make an unthinkable decision whose consequences forever change the framework of her family. Kirkus Reviews: Letters and postcards once used as bookmarks flutter out of used books, forgotten signs of liaisons. Roberta treasures books so much that she pines away in her beloved job at Old and New Bookshop, watching Philip, her boss and the man she can't yet admit to herself that she loves, take the beautiful Jenna as his lover. But secrets begin to spill out of the books—secrets that will change her understanding of the past and hopes for the future. One fateful day, Roberta's father, John, brings in an old suitcase labeled "Mrs. D. Sinclair," filled with her grandmother Dorothea Pietrykowski's old books. Between the pages, Roberta discovers a letter dated Feb. 8, 1941, signed by her grandfather Jan Pietrykowski, warning Dorothea that what she is about to do will dishonor her, imperil her very soul, and wrong some unnamed mother and child. If only Roberta could ask her grandmother or her father about the letter, but at 109, Dorothea has entered hospice care, and John's health is failing, as well. Meanwhile, Jenna confesses to a bewildered Roberta that she's pregnant with a child fathered by her ex-boyfriend. Walters' debut novel nimbly weaves together Roberta's and Dorothea's stories—the reader almost expects to pull a shadowy missive from its spine. Roberta's life is a mess; she stifles her feelings for Philip, twisting her desires into a sad affair with a married man. But Dorothea's story is the stuff of films: disowned, disappointed in marriage, crushed by multiple miscarriages—Dorothea rises above it all to manage her own farmhouse, to take into her home two young women, part of the Women's Land Army, and to find new love with Jan, the dashing Polish Squadron Leader. A breathtaking, beautifully crafted tale of loves that survive secrets.The parallel stories of Roberta and Dorothy unravel over the course of eighty years as they both make their own ways through secrets, lies, sacrifices, and love. Utterly absorbing, Mrs. Sinclair’s Suitcase is a spellbinding tale of two worlds, one shattered by secrets and the other by the truth.  
Fortunately, the plot begins to pick up speed by the third chapter, and soon the engrossing wartime story of Dorothy and her handsome Polish pilot is flying across the pages. I didn't find Roberta's story as compelling as Dorothy's, mainly because there wasn't as much at stake for Roberta as there was for Dorothy during WWII. The prose of this novel is smooth and clear, and the characters are well drawn.It's easy to get caught up in each protagonist's problems, from Roberta's timid yearnings for her boss to Dorothy's miscarriages and stillbirths that leave her longing for a living child to hold in her arms. I'd give this decent book a B, and recommend it to anyone who liked The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society.