New story for sale!

I have a new story up on Amazon Shorts, a near-future tale that is sort of about body modification and sort of about fame and a bit about L.A. It's called "Chasing the Spotlight" and I encourage you to go check it out and let me know what you think!

Links will be put up on the sidebar momentarily.

Women in Historical Fiction

Lance Mannion, to whom I've referred before, has been pretty vocal lately on the topic of feminism. With the release of Pirates of the Caribbean 3, he thinks it's a shame that Keira Knightley has, for all intents and purposes, been turned into a boy. His point, shorter: in an attempt to prove that women are the equals of men, writers are losing sight of the feminine aspects of their characters.

This is something that's bothered me about a lot of period pieces lately. It seems necessary to show that women in the olden days were Just As Tough as men, even though in those actual times, they were discouraged from showing it. Lance's point, an excellent one, is that women can be men's equals--and have been, throughout history--without being equal at physical skills (specifically, fighting).

From a writer's standpoint, I think these are important things to remember. In your novel, especially if it's historical/high fantasy, feminine characters (in general) survive by their wits; masculine characters survive by their muscles. Note that feminine characters are not always women; masculine characters are not always men. However, the exceptions should be notable. And you should have some balance.

In Common and Precious, there is a definite (and intentional) contrast between the two main characters, the one masculine, the one feminine (and they happen to be a man and woman, respectively, or at least a male and female tiger). Thinking back on it, I don't think it ever even occurred to Melinda (more appropriately, to me writing her) to fight her way out of her predicament. It just wouldn't be in her character. Does that make her any less strong or powerful? Well, I hope not.

Any other good examples of strong female characters who aren't just "boys with breasts" (Lance's words)?

Blogging about writing

And now, writing (in a blog) about blogging about writing. Lance Mannion, whose blog a friend turned me on to, is quite entertaining. Today he takes issue with a novelist (Richard Ford) who says that "a literary blogger is just "some guy sitting in his basement in Terre Haute."" (forgive the double quotation). Mannion's reply, in part (the whole is very long, but worth it):

...what does Ford think that guy is doing in his basement in Terre Haute?

My guess is he's writing a novel.

And this is something Ford's got to know. Most great novelists started out as some guy or gal sitting in a basement, or an attic or a cheap rented room, in some place as obscure and far away from literary glamor and greatness as Terre Haute---some of those obscure and far away places were in Paris and New York, the distance and obscurity is spiritual and metaphorical but very real to that guy or gal.

A few years from now Richard Ford will be blurbing that guy from Terre Haute's new novel.

There is a growing reaction from many sides of the mainstream media toward these darn bloggers, with the freedom to say what they want without having to have, y'know, earned the right to speak in public. I'm seeing it from the political reporting side particularly, but also here and in a few other places (like the SFWA's recent dustup about authors who post their work online, which spawned a whole movement in backlash). What Ford is saying, essentially, is, "I don't want my work reviewed and dissected by some schmoe."

There are plenty of smart people out there who for one reason or another haven't succeeded at making a vocation out of their avocation, but remain passionate about it nonetheless. In the sports world, Henry Abbott was recently hired to blog professionally by ESPN. Has his content changed now that he's "certified"? Glenn Greenwald blogs for Salon, professionally, and he's one of the smartest political reporters I've ever read. All Ford has done in making this remark is underscore that credentials are not a predictor of being in touch with people, or even of doing a good job.

Review: Harry Potter

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Secret Prisoner's Goblet of Phoenix Half-Blood, by J.K. Rowling
**/10, a fabulous adventure of a boy who discovers not only that he's a wizard, but a famous one with an equally famous nemesis

I finished listening to "Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince" two days ago and am ready for book seven. So where is it? Oh, right. I'm two months early. Anyway, I thought I would scribble down some thoughts on the Story So Far, as it were.

Overall, Rowling's series stands up well to a fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh reading. The characters remain as distinct and likable (or not) as ever, and Jim Dale's voice only accentuates that (when listening in sequence, one thing you notice is that Madame Hooch, for instance, has a different voice in book one than when she reappears in book three, but these are minor quibbles with Dale's outstanding work). One of the things Rowling does as well as anyone in the YA fantasy genre is build a world as whimsical as it is believable, where spells like the Bat-Bogie Hex exist alongside the sinister ultimate curse, the Avada Kedavra (the resemblance of the last word to 'cadaver' is surely intentional). Even the plots hold up, because Rowling is a master at foreshadowing, and, even better, she gets better as the series goes on, planting misleading foreshadowing and building on expectations set in previous books so that she always stays one step ahead of most readers. The biggest gripe I can muster against the books is to echo a comment Stephen King made about them being slightly overwritten, with an excess of adverbs and explanations for feelings (and an overuse of the 'toadlike' comparisons for Dolores Umbridge in book five). However, as a friend of mine pointed out, the book is aimed at young adults, and so this is not only forgivable, but necessary.

I resisted picking up the books at first, reluctant to join in on what was becoming a national phenomenon, until a friend of mine sent me the first three volumes. Well, I've never been one to turn down free books. I read them and instantly became a convert. If you are one of the people who has been resisting Harry Potter because he is so popular, please stop doing yourself this disservice. Buy them in secret, don't admit to reading them, but do read them. They are not the best books of our times, but they are immensely enjoyable. Each book has its pluses and minuses; some are outstanding while others are merely enjoyable, but the series as a whole offers a rare chance to follow characters through a long, coherent story at a formative time in their lives--compare the wide-eyed eleven-year-old Harry with the determined sixteen-year-old, and you will understand what I mean because you will have grown with him, experiencing what he did and feeling his wonder, frustration, and hope every step of the way.

Also, you should stop reading now, because I'm going to start talking about the plots.

SPOILERS below.

The arc of how Harry learns more and more about his past and his future destiny is really one of the best things about this series. It's the central mystery that keeps us engaged, even through all the other lovely little plots Rowling creates to keep us entertained. I'm sure it's not over yet, that there is still more to be discovered, and that's why I can't wait for book seven.

I'm so glad that book six was as enjoyable as it was. Of all the books, I think "Chamber of Secrets" is the weakest, but "Order of the Phoenix" is the hardest to re-read. It's just so frustrating to feel Harry's over-reactions to everything, to beg him silently to control his temper and watch as Hogwarts goes from a place of delightful magical discovery to a place almost without joy. Only the last third is fun, as Harry becomes distracted with the mystery of the Department of Mysteries and Voldemort's target therein and the book becomes more of an adventure.

"Half-Blood Prince," by contrast, is a great read from cover to cover. We get caught up in adventure almost immediately, there is an appropriately awkward romantic subplot, and it ends by unraveling the mystery it began and setting us up for a climactic adventure in book seven.

There is plenty to discuss about the books, but too much to fit in a single blog entry. I could create an entire blog about it (and people have), but I'd rather just encourage my friends to read it (most of them have, at this point), and wait impatiently for July 21st.

** It is pointless to assign a rating here, I think. If pressed, I would give the series overall a 9/10, but that's unlikely to sway anyone who hasn't yet read the books into reading them.

Review: Tithe

Tithe, by Holly Black
7.5/10, a beautiful and dark story of a girl discovering her identity in the faerie world

I used to be quite devoted to the world of Young Adult fantasy, back when I was a Young Adult--Madeleine L'Engle and Susan Cooper remain favorites--but since I picked them up, the landscape has changed. Faeries, vampires, and werewolves are the big things, driven in part, I'm sure, by the success of "Buffy" and related shows. Holly Black is one of the names I've become aware of very recently in this newly vibrant field, and "Tithe" is the first volume in her YA series.

Sixteen-year-old Kaye travels with her rock-star-wannabe mother up and down the East Coast, landing most recently in her grandmother's house in the Philadelphia area. She's been familiar with faeries from an early age, small companions with cute names like Spike, Lutie-loo and the Thistlewitch, but she hasn't seen them in quite a while. They reappear in her new home with some startling news: one of their number has been killed--by a mysterious knight whose life Kaye has just saved.

This conflict is not as simple as it first seems, and Kaye's role in it only grows more involved as she finds out more about the faerie world. The Unseelie Court, from whence comes the mysterious knight, is an ethereal, sinister place, with horrors and unearthly beauties aglow from Black's lovely descriptions. Faeries, you see, can be as dark as they are beautiful, and the darker ones gather in the Unseelie Court to torment other unfortunate faeries (though it must be said that the denizens of the Seelie Court do not seem as much gentler as simply more adept at concealing their dark side).

Kaye stumbles through this new world very believably, with all the charm and wonder of any of my favorite YA heroes or heroines. Black's characters are vivid and enjoyable, especially the faerie, and some of the encounters between Kaye and her mysterious knight are truly a delight to read. The world of faerie, too, is wonderfully imagined, with many nods to all of the discourse of that world: faeries are famously bound by spoken promises, ancient rules, and customs, and Black makes sure that Kaye snags herself more than once on the jagged edges of that rough world.

The story itself seems slightly rough in parts, specifically the pacing. Events come to climax too quickly, or arise before the reader has a chance to process what was happening. There are almost two books here: one that happens before Kaye discovers the Unseelie Court, and one after. Following the story is not a problem, but I didn't feel as much tension as I thought it deserved, because it kept getting sidetracked. Nonetheless, this is a world I would be happy to revisit, and fortunately, Black has written two more books: "Valiant," and the recently-released "Ironside," which continues Kaye's story.

I had the good pleasure of attending a book signing in which Holly Black and her friend and fellow author Cassandra Clare signed books and gave a very enjoyable presentation. Black's dissection of urban fantasy and the relationship back to old fairy tales was particularly interesting. Clearly, she not only knows what she's doing, but she has a sense of history and literature. She also signs with a great quotation, which I have yet to figure out how to do consistently. Even if you can't get it signed, I still recommend picking up her book. It's a fun, quick read, and if you haven't read YA fantasy since "A Swiftly Tilting Planet," it's unlike anything you've read before.

Elation and Frustration

I just finished "Tithe" by Holly Black (review forthcoming) and was struck by a linking theme between that and the Harry Potter books, which I'm listening to on audio (just started book 6, so I'm ahead of schedule). Both of them deal with magical worlds that exist side by side with our own, below the surface, as it were. Now, I have no desire to write a story about a wizarding world (Rowling pretty much owns that space), nor about faerie (not without becoming a lot more conversant in the extensive discourse going on with those worlds--I am familiar with some of it, like Greg Bear's excellent "Songs of Earth and Power," but I never read, for instance, any of the <color> Fairy books, and I am largely unaware of the current flood of YA urban fantasy out there, though taking steps to remedy that). However, that line of thought did give me an idea, which turned into a story, and in the space of a day, I have another idea for a book to write.

This is cool. This is spectacularly fun. Unfortunately, it doesn't get any of the current projects I'm working on finished any faster, nor does it give me any more time in the day to take care of this idea. The good news is that this story is probably a shorter novel than I'm accustomed to writing, and the idea is one of those burning ones (in Greg Bear's parlance, a vibrant new world) that supplies a lot of its own energy.

Now I just need a month off to write it. So what do you do when you get an idea like that? Put it on the shelf and finish your current projects, or dive right into it and figure the others will take care of themselves eventually?

Book Signing!

It's not much of a book tour--under a mile from my house--but it's my first non-convention book signing! On June 5th, at 7:30, I'll be signing "Common and Precious" at Books Inc. in Mountain View. I'm pretty excited about it! In the meantime, if you don't want to wait for the signing to read the book, Books Inc. is stocking them. I dropped some off yesterday, so they should have them in stock pretty soon.
This is exciting! My book in a real bookstore. If you can make it to Mountain View on Tuesday night, June 5th, I'd love to see you there!

Now, if only someone could do one for "principle"...

I love this.

Worldbuilding revisited

This post on worldbuilding by M. John Harrison begins with a very quotable line: "Every moment of a science fiction story must represent the triumph of writing over worldbuilding." I've written on this topic before and drawn a similar conclusion, but I think that especially in the field of science fiction, there is some leeway to be found. There is definitely a segment of readers who want to read detailed descriptions of a world. Often these readers are the kind of people who like to imagine their own stories within someone else's world and want as much detail as possible. At an extreme example, look at Tolkien's "Silmarillion," which is little more than a worldbuilding exercise, or any of the subsequent books which do not so much tell further stories of Middle Earth as flesh out the background and texture of it. Even in the "Lord of the Rings" series, huge passages are devoted to loving descriptions of the world and its history. Stephen Donaldson's "Chronicles of Thomas Covenant," similarly, break to give the reader lengthy passages of description and, on occasion, history.

If you limit the writing you do about your world to the immediate world your characters are experiencing, you will end up with a well-textured background to a good, snappy story. But people love unfinished business and possibilities, and a few extra paragraphs about history, a description of something not entirely relevant, a strange custom or behavior can all spark in the reader a curiosity that lingers after the story is over, that draws them back to your world wanting more of the tantalizing details you've dangled in front of them. Moreover, it can do the same for you, as you sit thinking, "okay...how DID the elves/aliens/Sharath tribe get there in the first place, and why do they venerate that artifact?" A whole other novel can come out of that. And yes, that worldbuilding doesn't have to go into your story, but if it did, then you have a built-in hook to that second story for your readers, who may have been wondering the same thing.

The value of education

Via Copyblogger, this little snippet:

Another quote from Franklin illustrates the importance of constant learning: “If a man empties his purse into his head, no one can take it from him.”

I think what he was really saying was: you don't have to pay back your student loans. Man, that Franklin really was ahead of his time. Glad I went to his school.

The first draft

I'm taking another screenwriting course in the evenings, and this is a good one. One of the things the professor said is, "Your goal should be a shitty first draft."

Now, I've always resisted the prevalent wisdom surrounding first drafts--namely, that you should just let the words pour out without editing them and worry about the editing in your second draft. Perhaps because I also edit for Sofawolf, I cannot completely shut off my internal editor, and so my first drafts end up being revised while I'm in the process of writing them. Occasionally, something will be in my head so fully formed that I can churn out a few pages, but by and large my first drafts run slow. It's worth noting that in my Beginning Fiction workshop, the book we used by Koch said that there are other writers who work using that method.

The problem lately has been that I'm not sure where the story is going, and so I foodle endlessly with one paragraph or another, or I take a five minute break to play Scrabble, or I cook dinner. But recently, hearing our professor say that reminded me that that is a valid philosophy, and so I've tried to make a conscious effort to just let go. Even if I'm typing something and I think, 'This is stupid,' where previously I would have stopped, now I'm trying to say, 'Okay, maybe it is, but let's see where it's going.' I know some of it will get cut, but maybe by laying down more foundation for the story, I will have a better one left over when I'm done the editing.

If nothing else, it's helped me get some writing under my belt, which has given me renewed confidence, which has been good all around. So the lesson here is that sometimes it helps to try out a different style, and see what results. You don't have to go all the way, but mix it up a bit.

Review: Stumbling on Happiness

Stumbling on Happiness, by Daniel Gilbert
9/10, an entertaining look at the psychology of decision making

If you want to predict how happy you will be after a meal at a restaurant you've never been to before, would you rather look at the restaurant's menu, or at a review by an anonymous person on the internet? If you're like most people--me included--you would choose the restaurant menu, on the theory that Anonymous Joe might be some weirdo who likes raw squid, mouth-searing hot sauce, and/or SPAM. Gilbert demonstrates, methodically and fairly convincingly, that even though that might be the case, Anonymous Joe's happiness during the actual experience of his meal is a better predictor of your happiness than your own imagination given the restaurant's menu.

"Stumbling on Happiness" is a fascinating, detailed look at the way our unique and important ability to imagine the future is far from perfect. We allow our present state to influence our future imagining (compare the difference between grocery shopping when hungry and grocery shopping just after a meal), selectively edit memories, and attribute our mistakes to other factors, leaving us open to making the same mistakes again.

Gilbert explores this territory with authority and humor, slipping in wry observations and amusing remarks between the engaging discussions of how we trick ourselves. He offers many concrete examples (the restaurant example above is only one) for each progressive step of his journey, so that by the end, you emerge convinced that you can be happier by following his advice. Despite this, he observes with some weary resignation, you will probably not do it. To quote the late, great Douglas Adams: "Human beings, who are almost unique in having the ability to learn from the experience of others, are also remarkable for their apparent disinclination to do so."

This is a quick read, and an entertaining one. It provides a few gems for writers, such as confirming that people's impressions of an experience are disproportionately colored by their impression of the ending (something I have been saying for years--I wrote an article about it for Sofawolf Press, which I may re-post here in the future). It's also a great window into decision-making and all the ways a character might go wrong with it. If you don't read it for yourself, read it for your characters.

Review: Time and Again

Time and Again, by Jack Finney
7.5/10, a slow-starting but ultimately engaging time travel tale

Despite logical and scientific testaments to the impossibility of time travel, we continue to be fascinated by the idea that we can see the future and change the past. Wells's original novel looked forward, not back, the product of a dawning age of science in which people were excited to see where the new technologies being developed would take us. Wells had a famously dystopian take on the new future, which is still tens of thousands of years away in the New York of 1970, where Finney's Simon "Si" Morley begins his story.

Finney, like most modern time travel stories, looks back rather than forward. In 1970, the Industrial Revolution and Atomic Age in our past and the Information Age just a glimmer in the eye of a young future Senator from Tennessee, the country was mostly obsessed with the recent war in Vietnam. Finney, to his credit, doesn't spend much time bemoaning the state of the world, but dives right into the introduction to the government project. The beginning is great cloak-and-dagger stuff, as Rube Prien comes to Si with a proposition: participate in a secret government project about which he can't reveal any details. It's a credit to Prien (and Finney) that he manages to believably convince Si to join the project.

The project is, of course, time travel. In keeping with the disillusionment with industry, time travel here is not accomplished by stepping into a machine, but is literally all in the time traveler's head. Of course, it helps to have surroundings that exactly mimic the time and place he's aiming for, so that he can get into the frame of mind that allows him to travel, but it is the traveler himself who makes the jump simply through hypnotic suggestion, believing he has traveled back to that time.

Si goes back to New York in 1882 with the aim of seeing a letter mailed, a letter which eventually led to the suicide of Andrew Carmody, a relative of his current girlfriend Kate. Witnessing the mailing leads to more questions, and Si soon finds himself enmeshed in an 1882-style web of blackmail, corrupt police, and murder.

Not soon enough, though. Finney pays great and meticulous detail to the features of 1882-era New York; indeed, this book would almost have read better as a historical account of that time and place. I suspect that residents of the Big Apple will be more interested in what's become of Madison Park, or the Ladies' Mile, than I was. There are a couple great moments where he emphasizes that the real essence of the time lies in its people, and several points where I was surprised at some of the things encountered in old New York.

The real beauty of this book, in fact, is its historical accuracy. I never doubted, in reading about the plots of farmland that Si sees on the island of Manhattan, that they were really there in our own past as well. Even so, there's only so long I can be enthralled by a walking tour of old New York. When Si goes back again and becomes enamored of a young lady named Julia Charbonneau, I wondered what would become of Kate, but in fact Si gives almost no thought to her until he returns to the present.

The plot does get rolling eventually, and when it does, the book becomes much more engaging. The 1970 plot is looser than the 1882 plot, but even the wrenches thrown in at the end make sense, if only to drive the book to its inevitable conclusion. Ultimately, despite his misadventures in the past, Si comes to love 1882 much more than 1970, and that feeling is the heart of the book. Finney doesn't gloss over the hardships of the late 19th century, but he does gloss over the benefits of 1970 life, dwelling more (in the short period when he does) on world wars, nuclear weapons, and the horrors of Vietnam.

For the theory of time travel alone, this would be a worthwhile book. The story is also well done, even if you end it from our perspective wanting to yell at Si, "Just stick around another twenty years." Bear with it through the long description and you'll be rewarded, amply.

Keep Reaching for that Ring

David Louis Edelman, an author I was unfamiliar with until today, writes about Five Things That Don't Happen When You Become A Published Author. Good reading (and read his companion piece, Five Things That Do Happen).

Also, bonus link: the writing in this online comic Wondermark is brutally funny.

Multiplicity

I often have several projects going at once. That way, when I'm stalled on one, I can flip over to another and get something done without that feeling of frustration. The danger is that it may also be harder to make real progress on any of them, as I never accumulate that momentum that leads to seven or eight pages at a time just spilling out onto the page. But slow and steady wins the race, they say, and the key is to let one project take over when it wants to. Currently I'm working on a New Tibet story, as well as my next novel and a couple side projects, including a collaboration with a friend (the use of Google Docs is the subject of a whole other post).
I'm also cleaning up a couple stories for submission to small markets. One story went off this week to Omnidawn, the people who published the fabulist collection Paraspheres, which I discovered when it was reviewed next to Sofawolf Press's Volle. I met the editors at a book reading and they are very nice people. We promised to keep in touch and I promised to send them a story. Finally, six months later, I kept that promise.
The other story went off a couple weeks ago to Amazon Shorts, a market that's been very receptive to my stories. So hopefully those will amount to something.

Website recommendation: Wyrdsmiths. Some cool people there, and they talk about writing in much the same way that I'm trying to. Eleanor Arnason, of Ring of Swords, which I loved, is a contributor. I'll add them to the blogroll at some point.

A Good Sign

Early on in Jack Finney's novel "Time and Again":

Our hero has been approached by a stranger who knows some things about him, like his birthday:

"So you know that, do you? Well, goody goody gumshoes."
"It's in your army record, of course. But we know some things that aren't; we know you were divorced two years ago, and why."
"Would you mind telling me? I never did figure out why."
"You wouldn't understand. [...]"

Sometimes you just know a book is going to be good.

A Bi-Annual Tradition Coming To An End

This will be the last time I read the entire Harry Potter series with the wonderful anticipation of another installment coming at the end of it. Ever since "Goblet of Fire" came out in 2000, I've prepared for each new release in the series by reading all the preceding books, to be completely caught up.

It's not just completism, though. The journey of rediscovery is such a joy with these books that I actually look forward to reading them all again, and I'm certain that even after book 7 comes out, I will do so from time to time. The excitement I felt at embarking back on book 1, and rediscovering the world of wizardry along with Harry for the first time, really surprised me this time around. I popped in the first CD of book 1 yesterday and couldn't help but grin.

That's what we're all working towards, isn't it? That's what we're aspiring to: a story that people will think of fondly, will perhaps re-read to recapture the same excitement it gave them last time they read it, a story that will bring a smile to people's faces, or perhaps a tear to their eye, that will do it in such a genuine, heartfelt way that they will spend billions of dollars making you the richest woman in England. Whoops. Sorry, lost sight for a moment. But you get the idea: I want to write a book about which someone will write, ten years down the road, "I still pull it down and read it, and when I open the cover and turn to the first page, I'm already smiling."

If I do that, I will be happy with my work. Thanks, and congratulations, Ms. Rowling. I'm off to rediscover your world.

Review: The Hunt Ball

The Hunt Ball, by Rita Mae Brown
4/10, a confusing soap opera of a mystery interrupted by social pontification

Any time you open a book with a seven-page cast of characters, all of whom are unfamiliar, it's a bad sign, or at least a sign that perhaps you shouldn't be starting with this book. The Hunt Ball is the fourth or perhaps the fifth in a series of "foxhunting mysteries" by Brown, clearly relying on the reader to remember characters from the previous books. The "Cast of Characters" is thrown in more as a warning than a guide. Still, I've managed to start other series midway through and even enjoy them (Bill Pronzini's Nameless Detective, for one), so I forged on ahead.

The problem with this book isn't necessarily with the cast of characters, or perhaps I should say the only problem isn't with the cast of characters. I got the characters as a list of names, only occasionally with personalities assigned to them. Here is how some of the characters are built up:

"Pamela Rene has been a pain in the ass since her sophomore year. [...] She's furious because she wasn't elected class president. You will recall she accused Valentina of voter fraud. A bad apple," Knute said.

Got that, everyone? Pamela = bad apple. A character said it, so it doesn't count as exposition, right? And with a cast of characters this big, you can't afford to show the important character traits, right? So it's okay.

"She has a mother who was once the highest-paid model in New York and still wants the limelight, and a father who has built one of the largest trucking companies in America. there's not much time for Pamela." Amy knew the Rene family well.

That sounds like the perfectly natural conversation of a couple people at a small school who have been teaching this girl for three years, doesn't it? Eesh.

The murder, when it happens, is effective enough, but we don't have a strong central character to follow through the unraveling of it. Sister Jane Arnold, ostensibly the heroine of the book, appears in less than half of it, much of which is taken up with explanations of the details of American foxhunting (they don't kill the fox, just chase it around, and it's okay because the foxes like it, as evidenced by the few otherwise pointless scenes in which the foxes talk to each other) or descriptions of people she once knew. The murder in a mystery should be the catalyst for action: every scene following it should yank the reader forward. What does this clue mean? Why did this person say/do what they did? And each revelation should bring more questions, until the denouement. Ideally, too, there should be some suspense. There's a killer on the loose! Who knows who might be next?! In The Hunt Ball, the murder makes people vaguely worried. There are no clues to follow up on, so life more or less just meanders on as it did before, until the second murder. Which is kept quiet so it won't affect the hunt ball.

The hunt ball, of course, is where everything unravels, but even there, Brown is unable to build any suspense or tension. An incident occurs that sets tensions boiling over into a fight, which would be great if we'd been allowed to follow a character long enough to feel that tension. The next incident, which leads to another killing and the resolution of the case, starts happening out of sight of the point of view characters and is only caught near the end. It has all the tension of one of the far too many foxhunts presented in the book, described apparently for the pleasure of describing them rather than to advance the story. And let's not forget the little commentaries Brown intersperses her story with:

Young women should not wear diamonds, rubies, or sapphires. They are not yet ready to carry such responsibility, for jewelry, in its way, determines a woman's place.

Lastly, she seems very confused about what the difference is between red, gray, and black foxes--unforgivable for someone writing about people who are supposedly experts. It'd be like writing a book about astronomers who think moons turn into stars.

I try to select good books, so the ratings I've given in my reviews to date generally fall above the 7-line. I seriously considered not finishing this book several times. Maybe it's just not for me, but heck, these are my ratings, and given the complete lack of character development, plot movement, narrative flow, or suspense--in a murder mystery!!--I think a 4 is generous. At least I didn't throw it across the room.

Review: The Shadow of the Wind

The Shadow of the Wind, by Carlos Ruiz Zafón
9/10, a gothic thriller set in post-Civil War Barcelona

I had no idea what to expect from this book, which was a Christmas present. The cover promises a "scary, erotic, touching, tragic and thrilling" tale, which I abbreviated above to "gothic," seeing as how I'm not being paid by the word. Descriptions aside, I was pleasantly surprised to find that "Shadow of the Wind" lived up to all of the above billing.

It begins with a bookseller taking his son to pick a book from the Cemetery of Forgotten Books, and already I'm hooked. The son, Daniel, chooses a book called "The Shadow of the Wind," by an author named Julián Carax, and falls in love with it. Naturally, he tries to find other works by Carax, only to be told that they have been all but eradicated. A visit from a shadowy figure who calls himself by the name Lain Coubert tries to get the book from young Daniel, who recognizes the name as the character of the devil from "Shadow of the Wind," and refuses.

Zafón's "Shadow of the Wind" (as opposed to Carax's) is Daniel's coming of age story. He falls in love several times over the course of the book, and his story meshes with and parallels the story of young Carax, which we discover as well. Along the way, Daniel enlists several allies, including a charming rogue named Fermín with a chequered past of his own.

Mid-century Barcelona's streets, secret places, apartments, and rooftops are painted with loving detail, and highlighting that is the walking tour of modern-day Barcelona included at the end of the book. At one point, when one of Daniel's romantic entanglements tells him she's considering leaving Barcelona to marry a soldier, he promises to show her a part of Barcelona she's never seen, to convince her to stay. Only secondarily does he promise to show her something in himself that is better than her fiancé. Barcelona, the city, is essential to the soul of the characters, and Zafón parcels out her character as thoroughly as any of the people in the book.

The adventure slows down in parts, as it must with so many stories to tell, but Zafón never lets it drag for long. By the time the pace does slow, I was used to his style and invested enough in the characters to want to learn more about them. And the backstory is, at times, as compelling as the main story, with its own secrets to be revealed.

My main problem with the book was the translation. It's lauded elsewhere, but I found it a trifle awkward in parts, especially around the dialogue. It didn't seem to match with the style of the book, or the time period, one or the other. As they first meet Fermín, bringing him in off the street, Daniel says, "Come on, boss, put these clothes on, if you don't mind; your erudition is beyond any doubt." It feels like the words and cadences of a slightly different time, or a non-native English speaker, and it takes me out of the book. Just a bit, but enough to be jarring.

That aside, "Shadow of the Wind" is a terrific ride, filled with wonderful characters and tragic stories, a beautiful city and a bibliocentric plot that is well worth the time to lose yourself in.

Review: Get Shorty

Get Shorty, by Elmore Leonard
9/10, a fast-moving thriller with great characters and language

In one of my writing workshops last year, our teacher handed out a style guideline by Elmore Leonard called something like "Easy on the Hooptedoodle," which could be summed up as "don't overwrite." I'd seen "Get Shorty" and enjoyed it, but had never read anything of his, so I was looking forward to the book, and I wasn't disappointed.

Leonard's prose is clean and crisp, his characters drawn quickly and precisely, his plot fast and engaging. Chances are you know the story from the movie; Leonard said of this screenplay (by Scott Frank): "All the adaptations of my books all sucked. This one got it right for once." It's a testament to Leonard's skill that I was able to read most of the book without calling the image of John Travolta to mind.

The story involves a movie producer, an aging actress, a dishonest dry cleaner, a thug who runs a limo service, a stuntman, a mob boss, and a movie star. At the center of all this madness is Chili Palmer, who got his nickname initially because he was so hot-tempered, but has kept it because he's so cool under pressure. It's the perfect name for him, and he maintains his cool throughout the increasingly crazy events of his trip to L.A. He has a very clear idea of what image he projects, and he keeps himself together no matter what happens. In fact, most of this book is about image vs. substance: the movie star whose image is at odds with the reality; the stuntman who made a living pretending to endanger his life; the actress trying to escape the type-casting of her looks; the movie business that cherishes image over all else. Chili is good at the movie business precisely because he is so aware of the image he projects, what other people see and what he wants them to see.

In the end, of course, substance wins out. Leonard the writer could hardly craft any other ending. But he, like Chili, is very aware of the impact of his words and how we react upon reading them. If you want a primer for action scenes, character building in a few quick strokes, or realistic dialogue--good, clean writing, in other words--you could do worse than pick up this book.