Saturday, December 31, 2022

December Site Update and 2022 Reading Year in Review

December's reviews have been archived and cross-linked at the main Brightdreamer Books site.

And, once again, another year ends, which means it's once again time for a Reading Year in Review post.

January started on a decent note, as I wrapped up reading Seanan McGuire's excellent Ghost Roads trilogy with Angel of the Overpass. Other highlights of the month were Nicole Glover's postbellum historical fiction/fantasy/murder mystery The Conductors, John David Anderson's imaginative take on wishes and the fairies who grant them in Granted, and Joe Hill's short story collection Full Throttle. The top book of the month turned out to be Leigh Bardugo's dark fantasy heist novel Six of Crows, a marked improvement over her Shadow and Bone (and incentive to some day go back and finish off the first Grishaverse trilogy; to be honest, I mostly gave Crows a try because Kaz's crew was retconned into the Netflix show and they were my favorite parts). It was also a month with some disappointments; Penric's Demon is the second swing-and-miss for the much-vaunted author Lois McMaster Bujold, enough for me to decide I just plain do not get her appeal and never will (though I've read worse), and Matt Wallace's Envy of Angels, a culinary romp through forbidden foods at a catering company with decidedly unusual clientele, left me with no appetite for further courses.

I kicked off February with Terry Pratchett's standalone tale Nation, a solid enough start in a month that would include several highlights: Christopher Buehlman's darkly humorous fantasy The Blacktongue Thief, Nghi Vo's The Empress of Salt and Fortune in the Singing Hills Cycle, and the conclusion to Leigh Bardugo's excellent Six of Crows duology, Crooked Kingdom. Seanan McGuire continued her impressive Wayward Children series with Where the Drowned Girls Go, and Catherynne M. Valente presented a dystopian nightmare twist on a familiar creation tale in Comfort Me With Apples. Another surprise delight was the audiobook presentation of Brent "Lt. Commander Data" Spiner's Fan Fiction: A Mem-Noir ("inspired by true events"), a tale elevated by his narration and cameos from fellow Star Trek: The Next Generation cast members. I also greatly enjoyed Gary Paulsen's autobiographical Gone to the Woods, read after the iconic author's passing. There were a few lowlights, of course, but more in the "meh" category than actively aggravating.

March brought some memorable titles, including Brian McClellan's French Revolution-inspired flintlock fantasy Promise of Blood, the Expanse novella collection (and final print entry in the franchise) Memory's Legion by James S. A. Corey, and the surprisingly enjoyable fairy tale/space opera mashup How Rory Thorne Destroyed the Multiverse by K. Eason. Adrian Tchaikovsky impressed with his flintlock fantasy examination of war in Guns of the Dawn, while Marie Brennan wrapped her five-book series of the lady dragon scientist Lady Trent in Within the Sanctuary of Wings. I also was unexpectedly impressed by the middle-grade ghost tale The In-Between and enjoyed the thrillers Alone (Megan E. Freeman) and The Girl in the Well is Me (Karen Rivers). I even found time for a fun little picture book at work, Tara Lazar's 7 Ate 9, and finally got around to Stephen King's classic The Shining. As a counterpoint to that title, the month's clear low point was another hotel-based tale of suspense, Shari Lapena's An Unwanted Guest, a story so generic and bland that I found myself forgetting it even before I'd finished.

I got quite a lot of reading (and listening, though audiobooks count as reading) done in April, starting with the graphic novel/picture book Captain Raptor and the Space Pirates by Kevin O'Malley and Patrick O'Brian and ending with the dark near-future vampire tale Certain Dark Things by Silvia Moreno-Garcia. Highlights in between included Darcie Little Badger's indigenous-inspired tale Elatsoe, Adrian Tchaikovsky's space opera Shards of Earth, and Rebecca Coffindaffer's lively space adventure, the Crownchasers duology. I was disappointed by Charles Martin's tale of wilderness survival and broken hearts, The Mountain Between Us, though, and thought a few - such as Margarita Montimore's time travel tale Oona Out of Order and Karen Mascarenhas's The Psychology of Time Travel - could've done more with their promising setups.

May started with an audiobook version of the classic Beowulf, translated by Stephen Mitchell, and also Italo Calvino's parody of medieval chivalry (and numerous other topics) The Nonexistent Knight. Katherine Applegate impressed me yet again with her story of ecological imbalance and a young outcast finding her voice in Willodeen, and Martha Wells's memorable SecUnit Murderbot returned in Network Effect. Unfortunately, despite the potential in the premise, Rachel Bach failed to impress me with her space adventure Fortune's Pawn, and after initial interest the final parts of Natalie Zina Walschots's deconstruction of superheroes and villains, Hench, left me cold and more than a little repelled.

June was my most prolific month, with fifteen reviews posted. From classics including Richard Matheson's I Am Legend and Other Stories, John W. Campbell Jr.'s horror classic Who Goes There?, and E. M. Forster's The Machine Stops to near-new titles like A. Deborah Baker's Along the Saltwise Sea (second in the delightful Up-and-Under series) and the children's urban fantasy tale Dragons in a Bag by Zetta Elliott, I managed a range of tales and ratings. Top titles included Zeno Alexander's middle-grade tale of a fantastical library under attack from all too real threats in the Library of Ever duology, Jessie Mihalik's somewhat predictable but still enjoyable space adventure/romance Hunt the Stars, and the finale of Jeff Lemire's Descender/Ascender graphic novel series in Ascender Volume 4: Star Seed. Despite enjoying the first installment of Sarah Beth Durst's Queens of Renthia series in Queen of Blood, I was disappointed in the sequel, The Reluctant Queen, enough that I don't see myself continuing. I also mostly enjoyed Rainbow Rowell's first entry in her fantasy/queer romance Simon Snow series, Carry On, a deconstruction of Harry Potter-style hidden world fantasies, yet find myself on the fence as to whether I'm interested enough in the world or characters to read on; it felt more like a self-aware deconstruction than a world and characters in which to become invested for their own sakes, if that makes any sense.

Though July was one of my less impressive months in terms of numbers, there were no outright clunkers among them. I was very pleasantly surprised, impressed, and absorbed by Robert Jackson Bennett's City of Stairs, I book I never would've picked up on my own had it not been part of a "mystery box" online offer. Stephen King also kept me interested in the non-genre Billy Summers, and I enjoyed Mishell Baker's Borderline, an urban fantasy romance steeped in Los Angeles film culture, more than I expected. I even wrapped up K. Eason's excellent Thorne Chronicles duology with How the Multiverse Got Its Revenge. (I also discovered the first of a follow-up duology or series at a bookstore, Nightwatch on the Hinterlands, but unfortunately haven't gotten to it in the To Be Read pile yet...)

August wasn't too bad, but it had a nadir in S. Kaeth's dragon story Windward; despite some very interesting ideas about dragon culture and the role humans might play in their world, I just could not connect at all with the characters or their motivations, which kept me from enjoying it. Top reads of the month were Elizabeth Bonesteel's space story The Cold Between and Angeline Boulley's contemporary thriller Firekeeper's Daughter. I checked another classic off with John Milton's poetic take on the Biblical fall of Satan and man in Paradise Lost, and got to a more recent classic in The Talisman by Stephen King and Peter Straub, as well as Robert Silverberg's retelling of perhaps the oldest known epic in Gilgamesh the King. C. L. Polk impressed me with Witchmark, but I felt let down by Stephen Brust's Good Guys, especially given how I've enjoyed other titles of his.

September kicked off with an imaginative young adult tale of flying ships and dragon hunters in Black Leviathan by Bernd Perplies, and ended with the excellent, if intense, fantasy slant on Chinese history in Shelley Parker-Chan's She Who Became the Sun. Between were a few older titles, such as Ursula K. Le Guin's first entry in her lauded Hainish Cycle, Rocannon's World, Theodore Taylor's tale of island survival and overcoming prejudice in The Cay, and the classic short stories collected by BBC Audio's Great Classic Science Fiction, some of which aged better than others. I wrapped up (at least for the time being) two series with Peter Brown's The Wild Robot Escapes and Nicholas Eames's Bloody Rose. Elizabeth Acevedo's free verse prose in Clap When You Land translated decently to audiobook, though I found myself let down after high hopes in Vivian Shaw's tale of contemporary monster medicine in London, Strange Practice.

I opened October with an audiobook version of Neil Gaiman's short story (and poetry) collection, Fragile Things, which mostly impressed. (As a side note, while listening to this at work, at home I was wrapping up Netflix's silly little animated musical confection Centaurworld, where one character's theme song is also titled "Fragile Things". This made for some truly bizarre juxtapositions of moods and mental images and earworms, I can tell you that much... and, dang it, just writing this up brought back some earworms from that show...) Another classic got checked off with Bram Stoker's somewhat lackluster tale of Egyptian curses and English grave robbers, The Jewel of Seven Stars. Christopher Buehlman made two impressive appearances this month, with the post-World War I tale of a cursed Southern town in Those Across the River and a gruesome yet absorbing story of France's plague years as the backdrop for Lucifer's army rising up against Heaven and an indifferent or absent God in Between Two Fires. Adrian Tchaikovsky managed the difficult task of making me interested in spider protagonists in Children of Time (more interested than in the human characters, honestly), while Alix E. Harrow excellently deconstructed the Sleeping Beauty fairy tale in A Spindle Splintered. The recent Netflix adaptation prompted me to take another crack at Neil Gaiman's classic graphic novel series with The Sandman Volume 2, but alas I still just do not seem to click with these, for all that I mostly enjoyed the show and keep feeling that, given their themes and mythic roots and impressive artwork and such, I really should enjoy them. (I think I liked the show better because it reworked some of the things that kept me from being absorbed in the comics, such as the heavy tie-ins to the greater DC hero universe that act as gatekeeping against casual engagement and constantly remind me why I don't read more "big name" comics. One of the coldest shoulders I ever got was one time I went to a comic book store just to see if anything caught my eye, a dark-side-of-Pluto-level silence and stares from the small clump of customers and employees at the counter that as good as pushed me back out the door without a penny spent. Which is yet another reason why I only read comics via hoopla and my library's online offerings these days... but I digress.) The true lowlight of the month, though, was the thrill-less "thriller" The Stranger in the Mirror by Liv Constantine.

November started with another clunker, Emily Henry's When the Sky Fell on Splendor, which started out like a solid early-season X-Files episode in a small town and ended like... a late, post-shark-jump show that may or may not have ever been tangentially related to The X-Files (so, basically, a late-season episode of The X-Files). When Ruby Dixon's shamelessly smutty sci-fi romp Ice Planet Barbarians produced stronger characters and a better overall story, that says a lot... Yet another classic turned out to be not quite my cup of cocoa (not helped by aging around the edges and all-around preachiness), Madeline L'Engle's A Wrinkle in Time. The month's clear highlight was Catherynne M. Valente's middle-grade fantasy adventure, Osmo Unknown and the Eightpenny Woods. I also got a kick out of The Poodle of Doom, by Susan Tan, an impulse read at work.

December was an unproductive month, especially on the reading front, due to holidays and due to various weather-related work outages (since a good chunk of my reviews come from audiobooks listened to at work; it's much harder to get alone time at home to listen... or read, too much of the time). I had high hopes for the space elevator-themed sci-fi/action tale The Darwin Elevator by Jason M. Hough in December, but was left disappointed. I had a better experience with Charles Portis's classic story of revenge in the Old West, True Grit, though I remain among the few on the planet who still hasn't gotten around to watching any film adaptation. Ed Greenwood's old-school fantasy adventure The Kingless Land earned marks for wholeheartedly embracing what it was, though at some point I couldn't help expecting something more out of it (and that whole weird obsession with naked women and snakes...). Popular novelist Nevada Barr's Track of the Cat, first of the national parks and wilderness themed Anna Pigeon murder mystery series, was decently entertaining, though I'm not sure I'll seek out more titles any time soon. J. S. Dewes's The Last Watch kept me entertained with its action-filled story of a ragtag crew of misfit soldiers at the literal edge of the universe... a universe that is suddenly contracting at an alarming rate, just as ancient enemies of humanity have re-emerged to throw civilization into disarray. I finished off the month, and the year, with the highly enjoyable and thought-provoking How to Be Perfect by Michael Schur, creator of the TV series The Good Place (a favorite of mine), which explores ethics and morality and why we should really be thinking more about both.

And there it is, a quick (and admittedly not exhaustive) rundown of my reading year. 2022 could've easily been worse, but I'd be lying if I said it was a great time in general. Hopefully, 2023 is a better year in more ways than just reading (though right now I'd settle for no more expensive surprises, especially car-related ones...).

Friday, December 30, 2022

How to Be Perfect (Michael Schur)

How to Be Perfect: The Correct Answer to Every Moral Question
Michael Schur
Simon and Schuster
Nonfiction, Humorous Nonfiction/Media Reference/Philosophy/Sociology
****+ (Good/Great)


DESCRIPTION: When the quirky comedy show The Good Place debuted on NBC in 2016, following the recently-deceased Eleanor Shellstrop after she finds herself misplaced in the "Good Place" after a morally questionable life, it brought matters of ethics and morality into millions of living rooms. The struggle to define morality, what it means to be a good person (and even why one should strive to be good), is one humans have wrestled with since prehistory. In that time, we've domesticated wolves, reshaped the climate, sent space probes beyond the edge of the solar system, and decoded DNA, so one would think someone would've come up with an answer to this whole "what is 'good'?" ethical question by now. Well, they have - numerous answers, often contradictory, each with their own strengths and weaknesses. Series creator Michael Schur relates the history of ethical theories and how they work (or sometimes fail to work) in practice, while also discussing his own struggles to define a personal moral code that's both fair and feasible.
The audiobook features cameos from several series stars and a few others.

REVIEW: The Good Place is one of the best shows, start to finish, I've seen. One of its many strengths was its ability to relate complex matters of ethics and morality in palatable ways, no doctorates required, showing how even the most flawed and seemingly irredeemable of people can learn and grow if given the tools and the chance. Somewhat remarkably in an America that has always skewed to an assumed Christian cultural root, the show explored ideas of right and wrong without resorting to religion as a backstop; though there is a metaphysical element in the whole series concept of souls and the Good and Bad places, the characters arrive at their conclusions without the carrot or stick of divine edict driving them. Much like the series, this book also avoids religion, which is - despite what many fundamentalists seem to insist - not a necessary component of morality. Delving into lessons from Aristotle, Kant, Sartre, and others, Schur gives a rough-sketch rundown of the basic ideas behind major schools of thought... all of which require some moderation for practice in a world that's a lot bigger, messier, and more complicated than any strict theory can accomodate. With those tools, he then shows how to approach various problems, from thought exercises like the trolley problem to practical applications such as returning shopping carts, as well as potential pitfalls, and (naturally) some callbacks to The Good Place. Throughout the book runs a strong vein of humor which, like in the show, helps keep the subject matter relatable. I found the whole thing both entertaining and thought-provoking, much like the series.
Examining one's own morality, developing and living by a code of ethics, is not something many of us have been encouraged to actively do. It's a process that is, by its very nature, never finished and requires constant fine-tuning through inevitable failures. There are no definitive and clear answers. There is no one-size-fits-all option. There is also a lot that is simply beyond our control, and it's all too tempting to just give up. In this book, Schur makes a strong argument for why we should make the effort anyway, whether or not there's a Good Place waiting for us at the end of it all.

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Thursday, December 29, 2022

The Last Watch (J. S. Dewes)

The Last Watch
The Divide series, Book 1
J. S. Dewes
Tor
Fiction, Sci-Fi
**** (Good)


DESCRIPTION: Ever since the last of the xenocidal alien Viators were killed, humans - the last sentient species to survive their relentless onslaught - have been looking over their shoulders, just in case a handful survived in the vast emptiness of space. To that end, they set up the Sentinels, a series of stations and ships along the very edge of the universe, the Divide between existence and nonexistence. It is from here that many believe the aliens originally came, and here they might (theoretically) return.
It is also here, at the literal edge of nowhere, that the System Collective Legion dumps its misfits, malcontents, and other embarrassments, on centuries-old ships with barely enough supplies to survive, let alone endure an attack that is probably never going to come.
Cavalon Mercer, heir to the royal family's ruthless eugenics-based title and industries, never much cared for his grandfather's extreme plans for humanity's future, and let his discontent be known in a manner so outrageous extreme that he's been disowned and banished to a Sentinel ship, the Argus, to die and be forgotten, not necessarily in that order. His cocky attitude and inability to keep his mouth shut when it keeps digging him in deeper holes isn't going to do him many favors here, but it's not like he has anything to look forward to anyway. Then he meets the Argus's captain, Adequin Rake, a former war hero still clinging to the notion that the legion to which she dedicated her life - and which has rewarded her with this humiliation of a posting - is still worth her loyalty.
What was supposed to be a mind-numbing exile suddenly becomes all too eventful, as shortly after Cavalon's arrival, the crew of the Argus find themselves facing internal frictions, the return of old enemies, the fallout of ages of political corruption, and the literal impending collapse of the universe itself. If they survive, they'll find everything they thought they knew turned upside down.

REVIEW: I've been hearing plenty of good things about this space adventure story, so when it became available via Libby I figured I'd give it a try. It happily lives up to its expectations, delivering an adrenaline-filled space opera. The ragtag crew of misfits facing corrupt or nonexistent leadership, forced to bond as they face a common enemy and become what may be humanity's last hope of survival... yes, plenty of familiar tropes are at play, here, but Dewes uses them well, and there's a reason one sees them so often: because they tend to work. The world and history are sketched out in just enough detail to support the story and create the cast of characters with their many flaws and scars, centered largely around the devastating, millennia-old threat of the Viators who nearly wiped out humanity yet whose technology still forms the backbone of civilization, for all that there's much about it and them that people have never truly understood. There's also the all-too-human threats of politics undermining not only the Sentinels but possibly the future of the System Collective... and, of course, that little bit about the potential end of literally everything - and end which, being right at the edge of literally everything, Sentinel ships will be the first to face. But is anyone even listening to them anymore when they call for help, or are they, as more than one person tries to tell Rake, more politically convenient dead than alive? Not that Rake is a rigidly by-the-books sort of leader herself; her loyalty to the Legion may be personal, but she'll defy any order if it means saving her crew, and for them she breaks every rule in the book (and even bends a few rules of physics, which happens with surprising frequency when one's at the dividing line between the universe and whatever lies beyond it). Cavalon, meanwhile, finally discovers a kernel of self-worth under layers of self-loathing and -destruction, and a reason to shape himself up... just as the proverbial waste product strikes the equally proverbial rotary device, and he's forced to step up in ways he never imagined when he first set in motion the little act of rebellion that landed him in the Sentinels to begin with. Things start moving, if not quite from the first page, then not too long afterwards, and keep moving right up to the end, which resolves one immediate crisis and marks a major turning point for Rake, Cavalon, and the other Argus survivors. I'm looking forward to finding out what happens in the next installment; hopefully Libby and the local library system come through sooner rather than later.

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Friday, December 16, 2022

Track of the Cat (Nevada Barr)

Track of the Cat
The Anna Pigeon Mysteries series, Book 1
Nevada Barr
Berkley
Fiction, Mystery/Thriller
**** (Good)


DESCRIPTION: Anna Pigeon had many reasons for the career and scenery change that took her from life in New York City to the back country of West Texas as a park ranger, but just being away from people ranks among the top five. In the Guadalupe Mountains, in deserts that can get so hot in the summer it's physically impossible for a human to carry enough water to ensure survival, she can find the peace that has always eluded her, and feel a connection to the grandeur and beauty of the world in a way she never found in any of the religious dabblings of her youth.
She never wanted to find a body, particularly not one belonging to a fellow park ranger - and especially not one bearing all the marks of a cougar kill.
The big cats are rare enough, and the nearby ranchers, who always resented the national parks service and its emphasis on conservation, are certainly going to use it as an excuse to declare open season on the few that remain. But the more Anna thinks it over, the more it doesn't track. How could a cougar have carried the body to the middle of the sawgrass patch where she found it without getting a single cut on the carcass? And don't they usually break prey's necks, not just bite and scratch? Everyone tells her to let it go, but the more she digs, the more she finds that raises her suspicions... and the danger, as it seems someone is very keen on getting her to stop her investigations, someone who has already killed once.

REVIEW: Another audiobook selection to kill time at work, Track of the Cat introduces the popular character Anna Pigeon in a thrilling mystery rooted in the desert back country and politics of parks and conservation. Like many fictional detectives, she comes to her first mystery with a troubled past and an ostensible desire to avoid connections and conflicts, but the moment she catches a whiff of something not right about the death of her colleague she can't let it go. She's also spurred by a love of the region and its wildlife, particularly the much-maligned cougars, which she has always wanted to see in the wild - but not as victims of what she's more and more certain is a witch hunt. Along the way, she's forced to reach out to people in a way she's been avoiding since taking her new job as park ranger, first her psychiatrist sister Molly back in New York City and then to a fellow park employee and single mother (Anna's ongoing side-fling with a local eco-warrior notwithstanding; it's clear from the start that she sees that relationship as just physical, while he sees something more). Attempts on her life and more victims raise the stakes as she tries to figure out the killer's motive and identity, with some false starts and dead ends, building to an intense showdown with the fate of the park's big cats on the line. At times, it felt like Anna was dithering to draw out the story, and a few elements of the solution felt a bit convenient, but Barr's ability to evoke the desert wilderness managed to keep the rating in the solid Good range.

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Thursday, December 15, 2022

Polaris (Michael Northrop)

Polaris
Michael Northrop
Scholastic
Fiction, MG Historical Fiction/Horror/Sci-Fi
*** (Okay)


DESCRIPTION: In the 1830's, the American sailing ship Polaris was sent on a mission of scientific discovery to the wild Amazon. With it sailed a complement of ship's boys, who were left behind with the vessel while the captain, the on-board botanist, and a contingent of sailors struck out up the river... only to return a week later, their numbers halved and the botanist dead. Only a few days into the return voyage, mutiny rocks the ship - only the mutineers inexplicably try to destroy the vessel and make off in the long boat.
The vessel, and the ship's boys, who were left behind.
As the only crew members left aboard, the kids realize it's up to them to take the abandoned Polaris back to New York City, or at least American waters... but they also learn all too soon why the mutineers wanted to sink the ship. Something lurks in the depths of the hold, something that followed them from the Amazon jungle.

REVIEW: This started out as a decently suspenseful tale of survival on the high seas, complicated by the unknown threat lurking under the deck, not to mention tensions over who should be the new captain and where they mean to go. The logical leader is Owen, cabin boy and nephew of the ship's captain (and possible heir to the vessel itself, should his naval career last so long), but brash Thacher also makes a play for leadership, and actually has some decent points when he argues for making landfall and escape as soon as possible rather than returning to American ports. Meanwhile, the "Spanish twins" Manny and Mario are hiding their own secrets, and botanist's apprentice Henry struggles with his lack of seamanship skills, even as he might be the only one who can figure out the horrifying truth about their passenger... and here is what ultimately cost the book in the ratings. You know how monster movies are often at their most effective when the monster isn't brought into the light until toward the end, because if the camera lingers too long on it it starts looking really implausible and perhaps a bit goofy? The monster here (no spoiler for saying that there really is something horrific in the hold) is something like that. It should be more terrifying, but the description just... does not work for me, making me think of cheap rubber suits and cut-rate puppetry, despite some sliver of real-world science behind its existence. Once I hit that hiccup to my suspension of disbelief, it was difficult getting back on keel, and the whole story started feeling more like a B-grade monster movie (down to a few too many false starts/jump-scares) than the tense, dramatic story of life and death on the high seas that it was supposed to be, with inexperienced children thrust into a situation far beyond their skill sets. When it worked, it worked well, but I fear it just stretched its premise a bit too far, and ultimately let its characters fall into too-familiar and -flattening tropes, for me to really enjoy it.

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