The Knight and the Moth (Rachel Gillig)

The Knight and the Moth

The Stonewater Kingdom series, Book 1
Rachel Gillig
Orbit
Fiction, YA Fantasy/Romance
*** (Okay)

DESCRIPTION:

The young woman known as Six remembers nothing before she first drowned in the sacred spring of Aisling cathedral as a sickly foundling child. Now, as one of the sacred diviners, she and her five holy sisters dream prophetic visions of the Omens and their sacred stone objects for the paying faithful of Stonewater Kingdom, a small realm of five hamlets surrounded by hostile inhuman sprites. Only the Omens hold the monsters at bay and give the people hope, and only the diviners, drowning in the spring, can glimpse their will.
Or so Six always believed.
As they near their tenth year of service, the girls look forward to the freedom to come; each diviner only serves a decade before being released. They have only had passing glimpsese of the greater kingdom, but dream of great adventures and grand lives... until, one by one, they begin to disappear in the night. At last, only Six remains - and she cannot believe the abbess when the woman insists that the others just "ran away" without telling her. She flees, finding her way to the only ally she might have: Roderick "Rory" Myndacious, one of the young new king's most trusted guardsmen, who made quite an impression when he visited the cathedral with King Benjamin as part of the coronation rituals. Rory is brash, rude, and blasphemous - the perfect companion, in other words, when her enemies are the gods themselves.

REVIEW:

I've heard nothing but praise for Gillig and her books, and heard some intriguing things about this one, so I figured I'd give it a try. The opening pulled me in almost immediately, as a talking gargoyle lectures a bug caught in a spider web about morality in lieu of helping it free, and the whole concept of repeatedly drowning in a sacred spring to receive prophetic visions. This was a world I wanted to know more about, and the characters promised to be ones I'd enjoy exploring that world with. (The edition I got was also admittedly quite petty, a paperback with decorative page edges.) Unfortunately, as the tale unraveled, that promise frayed to bare threads, until the only reason I was turning pages was to get the thing over with.
The early parts at Aisling, the cathedral built upon the sacred spring where once the Omens came to unite the infighting humans against the many strange and deadly sprite creatures stalking the land that would become Stonewater Kingdom, were rather interesting. Six and her companions are, naturally, sheltered, convinced that their sacrifices are worthwhile and that they will be rewarded for their service, but they are not so strictly naïve (in some ways, at least) as to be insufferable; a few have been known to sneak out to the local fair now and again, and they aren't forbidden to "lie in the grass" with visitors so long as they're discreet. Six herself strives to be the perfect dreamer, the teacher's pet of the bunch, yet still feels very close to her sister diviners, as they spend their evenings concocting grandiose dreams of their adventures once they're free of the robes and the eye-covering shrouds they must wear day and night as part of their service. The meeting with Rory and young King Benjamin foreshadows troubling times ahead, and Six begins to consider questions and ideas she'd previously dismissed. There's a nice sense of growing horror as, one by one, her fellow diviners begin to disappear... and those remaining see a darker, colder side to their mother figure priestess, as she dismisses Six's concerns and withdraws even the minimal affection and love she ever showed them, until there's no choice but to flee - taking along the one talking gargoyle, which has several eccentricities but is unflinchingly loyal.
At this point, I was quite enjoying the ride, even if the writing itself felt weirdly dissonant. Descriptive passages could be quite poetic and distinct, while the dialogue was often casual and very modern sounding, even allowing for "translation convention" (the unspoken understanding that fantasy worlds are being "translated" by the author from whatever the native tongue is into an Earth language). And if the greater world and mythology beyond Aisling felt weirdly flat and thin, and if the gargoyle felt a little more like the sort of quirky "animal" companion that would mostly exist to sell merchandising if this were a movie than a character with anything like a pivotal role in the plot, well, it was early yet. Surely such things would be fleshed out along the way.
As one might surmise from the rating, such things were not satisfactorily fleshed out.
After a relatively strong start and her gutsy, heart-rending decision to flee the only home and "mother" she's ever known, Six too often reverts to being a passive follower in the wake of Rory, Benji, and Benji's chief knight Maude in their greater mission, which involves challenging the Omens themselves; Benji insists that he has proof that they're not the gods they claim to be, merely usurpers to power who have manipulated the whole of the kingdom, and his first act as king will be to end them and take the powerful stone artifacts they carry. Despite her dreams and service, Six is soon convinced that the Omens are much less holy and benevolent than she was raised to believe, but still, she feels weirdly passive much of the time, almost childlike (she has a weird quirk where she refuses to wear shoes, and I don't consider it a spoiler to say that, no, all the page count spent on her rejecting footwear never does lead to any greater plot point; she's just acting like one of those willful toddlers who just won't keep their shoes on, even in locations where shoes would be advisable). She's supposed to be rather strong, having worked with stone on the crumbling cathedral (all the girls were encouraged to have skills or hobbies), but acts quite weak many times. Rory's attraction does not quite feel organic. And, despite some nice descriptions, I never really got a sense of a full world or kingdom; the hamlets are full of flattened caricatures of extras (and the fact that they're hamlets at all, not even towns, makes the whole of Stonewater feel weirdly small - with no mention that I recall of a greater world beyond its boundaries), the sprites are just sort of there without rhyme or reason (save serving as an occasional threat; there's lip service given to how they're actually victims in a way, starving to death and becoming more aggressive, but they're only rarely shown to be a tangible threat, attacking at plot-convenient times and in plot-convenient ways). The gargoyle remains weirdly extraneous, comic relief that does something useful once in a blue moon, and only at the very end is any greater purpose given to it... too little, too late for me to really connect with it. By the end, I just wasn't buying the story or the twists like I should have were I properly invested in the tale, and the climax was just a massive brick dropped on everything, landing with a dull thud that obliterated anything like interest in continuing as it set up a very contrived complication.
In any event, I suppose I can place part of the blame for my disappointment on myself, for taking to heart all the hype I've heard. I suppose it just is not the right story for me, but it's nice that some people are evidently enjoying it. I shall be passing my copy on, in the hopes that it finds a more appreciative reader.

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Dragonborn (Struan Murray)

Dragonborn

The Dragonborn series, Book 1
Struan Murray
Dutton
Fiction, MG Fantasy
**** (Good)

DESCRIPTION:

Alex's mother and father couldn't have been more different, but they loved each other - and Alex - very much. Dad was all laughter and stories and long nights watching the stars in "their" forest, a patch of woods near their home. Mom was all rules and structure and order, and when Alex's father died she only grew more restrictive. Lately, though, the girl has grown restless, like there's a burning scream deep inside that she can't seem to get out. Perhaps it's grief; it was only a few years ago Dad died, and all Alex has left of him is a small bag full of "treasures," little trinkets attached to various memories of her father. It's not until the strange, towering man appears in the woods and starts asking uncomfortable questions about that terrible night that Alex begins to wonder if there's something more to it... if perhaps the "scream" is something bigger, something fiercer, something out of one of Dad's magical stories: a dragon.
Unable to deny the truth anymore, Alex is whisked off to the hidden isle of Skralla, one of many "invisible" places where remnants of old magic and ancient beasts and beings persist in this age of humanity. Here, among other children (or "drakes") like herself, she must learn how to be a dragon, how to become the being of power and scale and flame and force that she truly is beneath her human form... but Alex has never been good with change. And her timing could not possibly be worse, as ancient forces are stirring that could rekindle the old war between dragons and humans. How can Alex find and make peace with her inner dragon when it seems the whole world is about to burn to ash?

REVIEW:

I freely admit the cover art by the talented Devin Elle Kurtz influenced my purchase, here. But... seriously, just go to a bookstore or do a quick search online and look at that gorgeous cover. And the endpapers in the hardback edition. Add in a blurb that promised plenty of dragon antics, and the money practically flew out of my pocket. So, did the story within hold up to that lofty promise? In general, yes, though there were some points that held it back a bit.
The setup here has many familiar parts: the twelve-year-old with the parent who died under mysterious circumstances and the other parent clearly keeping secrets, a birthday where the whole illusion comes crashing down, a hidden world of magic and monsters, the sanctuary/school and new host of friends and enemies, the discovery of a strange power and a terrible threat... they're tropes for a reason, and they tend to work more than they don't here. Alex is believably hesitant to embrace her dragonish self, and must find her own way to survive and succeed in an island filled with rowdy and truly dangerous companions; the ancient war left a deep resentment of all things human that lingers centuries later in the "Slumberers," the dragons who have been in human form so long that they've forgotten their true selves, even producing new generations ignorant of their true fire. The one human boy on the island, an orphan that the Skralla leaders didn't have the heart to turn away (they're hopeful that they can avoid another all-out war by learning to live with humans), is often bullied and in danger, and a dragon girl like Alex who can't or won't change is hardly a step above that on the rung of dignity. The teachers here do not coddle or intervene (save in cases of deadly harm), but they don't come from a place of aloofness or malice: life as a dragon is inherently dangerous, and a sheltered drake rarely survives to become a full-grown dragon, so the best way they can help the young ones is to make sure they learn how to defend themselves early on without expecting someone else to protect them. Though Alex has one friend, it doesn't help her find the confidence she truly needs, or the secret to becoming her true self - something nobody can really help her with, especially not when they apparently find it so easy.
Meanwhile, she learns some about the greater magical world and Skralla, and the nearby (by magical standards) hidden city of Undwin... places that are presented in what feels like a breathless rush, making them seem like blurs rather then solid, detailed settings. The whole story often has a breakneck feel to the pacing; I recall only a few times when the story slows down enough for the emotions and real sense of wonder to sink in. The dragons themselves are nicely described, in sensory details that make them feel very dragonish indeed; these aren't just "scaly puppies" but fiery, fearless, full of raw elemental power, the embodiments of forces beyond humanity's feeble reach. But other parts of Alex's expanded world sometimes feel just kinda thrown together with minimal follow through, such as the kaiju-like monsters that periodically attack Undwin and the menagerie of magical beasts kept on Skralla that feels more like a sideshow attraction and/or callback to other "hidden magical world" stories, a checkmark on the worldbuilding list - well, it's a hidden magical world, so there's gotta be a menagerie of dangerous magical beasties nearby - than a genuine and organic thing.
Other areas of the tale break away into more original territory, particularly as Alex must find her own way of surviving among dragons while stuck in human form and as she explores her "gwimmer," a rare gift that in her case lets her talk to the spirits of deceased dragons (not really a spoiler if it comes up early in the book). The latter is where Alex really shines. As the tale builds to the climax, some twists play out that I was expecting, but not quite in the way I thought they would, pleasantly surprising me. Alex also explores her own grief and must confront the issue of whether clinging to her memories and treasures is truly helping her cope, lending some weight to her journey. The ending offers some closure even as it sets up the next book in the series.
By the end, I'd enjoyed it much more than I didn't. I am very, very pleased with the dragons Murray created and featured. If the story had steered away from the more comfortable and familiar waters and trusted itself to chart its own course, and if it eased off on the throttle now and again to give itself a chance to breathe, it would've risen a bit in the ratings; I expect the target audience would likely rate it higher. I wouldn't rule out reading on... especially if I get sucked in by the cover art again.

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August Site Update

Yes, I actually managed to update at the end of the month this time - and with four reviews to show for it. They have been archived and cross-linked over on the main Brightdreamer Books site, for whatever that's worth.

Enjoy!

Scythe (Neal Shusterman)

Scythe

The Arc of a Scythe series, Book 1
Neal Shusterman
Simon and Schuster
Fiction, YA Sci-Fi
****+ (Good/Great)

DESCRIPTION:

The Age of Mortality ended with the rise of Thunderhead, the world-encompassing AI that supplanted fractious national governments, offers access to all human knowledge, and ushered in an era without disease, poverty, aging, or even death. Thanks to nanobots and advanced medical technology, almost everyone can be revived (though some who "splat" from a significant height may take longer)... but that created a new problem. How can the population be kept in check when lifespans are essentially limitless - and should an AI, even a benevolent overlord like Thunderhead, be in charge of such an essentially human experience? Thus was created the Scythedom, a society of humans a step apart from the rest of the population, even separate from the all-seeing, all-knowing Thunderhead. It is only they who can "glean" others, killing them permanently. As generations pass and memories of the mortal age fade, Scythes alone are the face of true death in this deathless world. How terrible it would be should that power lose its guardrails of purpose, duty, and morality...
The first time Citra met Scythe Faraday, he stopped into her family's apartment for dinner before he gleaned their next-door neighbor; by law, a Scythe can go where they wish and demand food, drink, or whatever they desire from anyone. Rowan met him when the scythe came to his school to glean a classmate and only Rowan stayed with the boy to the end. Without realizing it, both impressed Faraday to the point where he took them on as his apprentices, training them in killcraft and Scythedom code and custom. Neither loves killing or permanent death, and they both initially want nothing at all to do with scythes, but the more they see and learn, the more they realize just what purpose the Scythedom serves and how they might actually be good fits for the robes. But a rot has formed at the heart of the society, and Citra and Rowan are soon pulled into a tangle of politics and rivalries and the struggle over who will determine the future of the Scythedom - if the old codes and restraints crafted in the last days of mortality will stand, or if a newer, darker strain of gleaning will rise to threaten the whole populace.

REVIEW:

I've heard about this one for quite some time, almost all of the talk positive. Some consider it a modern classic. Reading it, I can see why. With echoes of dystopian classics like Aldous Huxley's Brave New World (yet presented in a way more relatable to modern readers; Huxley's work loses a little relevance if one isn't familiar with the then-current movement/threat of Fordism, for instance), Scythe creates an outwardly glorious future where humanity has finally conquered its oldest enemy, Death itself, but in doing so has - seemingly unwittingly - traded away most everything that made life worth living. Even old age is a minor inconvenience; anyone can "turn a corner" to reset themselves to their twenties, complete with refreshed minds and hormones, even raising new families and finding new lovers. So what is left to fuel passion, to drive people to greatness? With Thunderhead accumulating all knowledge, granting access to everyone at any time, why push oneself or push boundaries at all? Nanobots even regulate extreme emotions and blunt pain, so love itself isn't what it used to be anymore, either. (And if you're bored with people, well, there are robot facsimiles almost indistinguishable from humans to serve as partners.) Most of the great works of human history now languish in a population that cannot relate to all-consuming emotion or existential angst or isolation or other motivators to great thought or science or art. As one scythe openly wonders, are people even truly human anymore? Only the scythes offer anything like true danger, which makes people both uncomfortable with them and fascinated by them; a celebrity cult has sprung up around particularly noteworthy scythes. The scythes themselves, so intimately entwined with true mortal death, may be the last vestige of what it means to be truly, mortally human, but even their experiences are proscribed in certain ways; they have the same emotion-regulating and pain-suppressing nanobots as everyone else, they "turn the corner" at will like anyone else, and - until and unless they self-glean, as the only scythe who can end a scythe is themselves - they can potentially live forever like anyone else.
Citra and Rowan come from different places (though not vastly different worlds as one might find in the Age of Mortality; though Thunderhead allows some minor income inequality and there's still a little cultural variance, for the most part there aren't the vast divides of experience and opportunity that there once were). Citra is a much-loved member of her family, while Rowan's friend nicknamed him "lettuce" for how he's an unappreciated and overlooked filling in the "sandwich" of his large, sprawling, many-generational clan. Citra strives, while Rowan coasts. But both, when faced with Scythe Faraday, in their own way stood up and stood apart from the others around them as he did his deadly work - and both, in their own way, have qualities that would make them truly good at the job... especially because neither rushes to embrace the robes or the power that comes with even being a scythe's apprentice. Inevitably, there's even a spark of attraction between the two, despite the somber circumstances - and then the political games and growing schisms roiling within the Scythedom of MidMerica throw a spike in the works, determining that only one of them can ever take the ring and robe of a scythe, and the winner must glean the loser. The plot, which already wasn't slow, really takes off in some satisfying directions from here, as Citra and Rowan find themselves pursuing different paths and seeing different sides of death and themselves, both tested and tempted in ways they did not anticipate (and in which they sometimes fail). Around them is a web of fellow scythes and a few civilians, precious few of whom can be trusted as allies when needed. And always, front and center, is death, and what the world has become when final and ultimate death is in the hands of an elite few rather than the birthright of every human. If you think that this being a Young Adult title means that Shusterman fades to black or skirts around the gory, messy, dark subjects of "killcraft" and death, think again. It's there, always, and characters do not (or are not allowed to) shy away or blink. Even the characters may end up "deadish" more than once ("deadish" being what most people experience when they are not ultimately gleaned; an ending, followed by waking up, woozy and sore, in a revival facility).
This is not a book that drags its heels much, or overexplains too often. There are some aspects of the future that I felt could've used a touch more fleshing out and focus, as for the most part Shusterman keeps the lens on the scythes. Everything builds to a decently cathartic climax that sets up the next book, but feels satisfying enough that I don't need to rush right out and buy the sequel. The whole is an interesting, absorbing, and thought-provoking tale, one where there aren't always easy answers or clear divisions between right and wrong, good and evil.

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Making Comic Zines (Eddy Atoms)

Making Comic Zines

Eddy Atoms
Silver Sprocket
Nonfiction, YA? Creativity/Graphic Novel/Humor
***+ (Okay/Good)

DESCRIPTION:

Have you ever had a little idea you wanted to share with the world - a poem, a comic strip, a story, a thought - but didn't know how? Does creating a full-blown novel or comic book seem too intimidating? Why not try making your own zine? These short, small-run, self-published magazines are a great way to begin creating. They can be anything from a folded page to a stapled or sewn-together booklet, and you don't need to be a full-fledged artist or writer to get started. All you need is a little time, a little motivation, and a little idea... and some of the basics outlined here.

REVIEW:

In the interest of full disclosure, I once was part of a fanzine; my father was part of a long-running amateur press association (APA), and for many years I had reviews and the odd thoughts as a "coattail zine" in his entries (admittedly to help boost his page count). I'm not even sure if that APA is still around; we lost touch when Dad's dementia worsened to the point where he could no longer continue to publish, and there seemed no real point in me continuing on my own in what was essentially his circle of friends and associates. So when I found this while randomly browsing my library's Hoopla offerings for something that wasn't ridiculously dark and/or part of a larger franchise or multiverse, it tickled a little wisp of nostalgia.
On the plus side, Making Comic Zines brims with can-do, go-for-it energy, emphasizing that one doesn't need to be a Picasso or a Stephen King to create or have something worth saying. If you wait to be someone else to begin, someone smarter or better or more experienced or what-have-you, you'll never do anything. Start where you are. The bar for entry to zines is very low, and Atoms offers tips on keeping things cheap (or free) and accessible, especially useful to those of limited means and/or minors. It's quite encouraging and empowering, and it openly admits that this is just a launchpad; at 40 pages, it doesn't even try to be in depth, but goes over the basics of coming up with an idea, figuring out layout, printing, and distribution.
On the minus side, though, there's a heck of a lot that's glossed over or ignored, making it a bit too simplistic. Yes, parodies and satires of popular franchises are generally considered safe under "fair use," but big companies can and will bankrupt you proving it if they decided to push their claim, and not even minors are safe from that. There's also no mention of where the line between plagiarism or theft and homage lies, which can also get one into trouble. Further, I'm a bit skeptical of advice to distribute home-printed zines to local libraries; ask first, as not all libraries can or will take such donations. (Guerilla distribution of zines might be a safer bet, to be honest, leaving copies where people you think might enjoy them will find them; just be careful what kind of personal information you include in anything you create... and the same warning goes for fandoms in general. Many people are trustworthy, but there are dark corners in even the most benign-seeming groups.) And, of course, there's the ravenous kaiju elephant beast of AI that's not even addressed, a threat that not even zines are safe from. (As a minor unrelated note, in the section on printing, Atoms skips over the fact that many printers these days can collate your copies for you, saving you a step. It's one of several points where a little more practical nuts-and-bolts information could save newcomers a lot of time, tears, and frustration.)
For all that, though, it's a fun little zine with lots of energy and optimism, and it brought back some nice memories.

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