Published reviews this month:

Abyss & Apex, issue 26
Diet Soap, issue 2
Light Reading by Aliya Whiteley

Water for Elephants by Sara Gruen (2006)

When his parents are killed in an accident, Jacob Jankowksi is forced to abandon his studies in veterinary science. He jumps aboard a passing train at random one night, and finds himself in a travelling circus. He becomes the company's vet, falls for a married woman, and discovers how harsh circus life can be. (The cover blurb ends, 'Where falling in love is the most dangerous act of all...' -- which got some gentle mocking from the members of my reading group.) Seventy years later, in the present day, an old Jacob reflects on those days to escape the drudgery of life in the nursing home -- and another circus comes to town.

Well, I quite enjoyed this: it goes through a range of tones -- it's a romp in some places, very serious in others -- yet is always engaging. I lost track of some of the (numerous) minor characters, but that was by no means a problem; and the ending, which made me chuckle, was just right.

Here's a strange thing, though: the Author's Note at the end reveals that many of the incidents in the novel are based on real events -- and I found them more interesting when Gruen wrote about them as anecdotes in her afterword than when I encountered the same incidents in the story. Why this should be, I'm not sure; perhaps I'll put it down to one of my quirks as a reader...

Gods Behaving Badly by Marie Phillips (2007)

Jolly little piece of fluff that ends up as something quite different from what it begins as. The Greek gods are living in present-day London, but have dwindled in power and have to make ends meet: so, Artemis walks dogs for a living, Apollo is a TV psychic, Aphrodite has a premium-rate chat line, and so on. Thanks to one of Eros's arrows, Apollo falls in love/lust with frumpy cleaner Alice. She, however, is in love with Neil (the feeling is mutual, unbeknownst to either to them), and rejects the god's advances -- but Apollo is affronted, and seeks revenge as only a son of Zeus can...

At first, it seems as though Gods Behaving Badly is just going to be a romp; then, halfway through, something happens that gives the book a whole new dimension. It loses a certain amount (though by no means all) of its humour (the very beginning of the novel had me laughing out loud, but the rest wasn't as amusing), though the plot gets more interesting. I can't honestly say that the book does much more than pass the time -- but it's a good book for passing the time.

I've asked this on a few book communities, and thought I would also ask it here, as I'm curious:

Have you ever taken a book on vacation, only to find it was completely unsuitable? I once packed up Stranger Things Happen by Kelly Link, having heard acclaim for her work but not actually knowing much about it... and found that she writes the kind of stories you really need to concentrate on to get the most out of them. Good stuff, but not ideal holiday reading!

Anyone have any similar experiences?

Thought you might like to read this.

(Link found on stephanieburgis' LJ.)

Life Expectancy by Dean Koontz (2005)

My first Koontz novel, and I am not quite sure what to make of it. As he lies dying, Josef Tock's daughter-in-law is about to give birth. The old man predicts that terrible things will happen on five particular days in the child's life, and then dies -- at the very same moment that Jimmy Tock comes into the world. Since Josef correctly predicted other details, such as Jimmy's birth weight, the family takes seriously his prophecy of the five days -- and they are right to do so. As Jimmy's life progresses, misfortune does indeed befall him on those days, though not necessarily in ways that he expects; in particular, the murderous clown Konrad Beezo, who went on a killing spree in the hospital on the night of Jimmy's birth, casts an increasingly long shadow over his life.

The problem with Life Expectancy is that all the principal characters come across as whimsical, larger-than-life creations, rather than anything resembling real people. The main antagonists, Konrad Beezo and his son Punchinello, are unhinged individuals with concerns that would seem almost comedic (such as a grudge against aerialists), had the two of them not had a propensity for killing anyone without a second thought, seemingly for no particular reason. These characters would work fine -- the horror and thriller genres are, of course, full of such extraordinary and outlandish enemies -- if they were pitted against ordinary, down-to-earth folks. But they're not: Jimmy Tock is an awkward, shambling 'lummox', who's also erudite; indeed, his family of bakers and pastry chefs are all wordy, and they're all the kind of people who can eat anything without putting on weight. Oh, and Jimmy likes festooning his house with Christmas decorations in the six weeks after Thanksgiving... sometimes it feels as though Koontz is loading Jimmy with traits and characteristics whenever it suits his story. Lorrie, the girl who wanders into Jimmy's life at random, is also extraordinary: witty and beautiful, she is no less than Jimmy's ideal woman.

All well and good, but the effect is to push the characters out of reality (the background has similar problems, as Jimmy and Lorrie gain support from their community to a degree that frankly stretches credibility to its limits) -- which numbs the impact (on the reader) of the harsh events they live through. And Jimmy's observations on life often come across as cloying sentimentality, because it doesn't feel like a real person saying those things. Some of Koontz's writing is very good, good enough to make me think I should take a chance on another of his books; but it would have to be more grounded, because I struggled at times to take this one seriously.

The Fade by Chris Wooding (2007)

In the midst of battle, Orna, a member of the elite Cadre, is ambushed, and her husband killed, by the enemy Gurta. Put to work in the fortress of Farkaza, what keeps her going is the thought of escaping and finding her son Jai, who's fighting in the war (though Orna believes he never really wanted to). Falling in with a disparate group of prisoners, Orna hatches a daring plan to escape -- which succeeds. Her journey home takes her to the surface (most of this moon's inhabitants living underground) and the brink of death; before she must get to the bottom of a conspiracy -- because somebody betrayed the location of her party to the Gurta, and Orna is out for revenge...

This is the first book I've read by Chris Wooding, and I liked it -- but I didn't love it. Wooding is good with action and description, and his choice of street-smart first-person narration is interesting when contrasted with the outlandish nature of his setting. He creates a complex character in Orna, and poses thoughtful questions about right and wrong. But the author is less skilled at generating interest in his characters' political machinations, which is problematic because the plot hinges on them; his final showdown verges on the melodramatic; and The Fade just lacks the extra zing that would really make it stand out. It's a solid effort -- certainly better than a good many fantasies out there -- but it's not essential reading.

Abyss & Apex, Issue 26: 2nd Quarter 2008

Since I'm now allowing electronic publications in my count, I'll include this science fiction and fantasy webzine. Five stories, the pick of which are 'Disarm', Vylar Kaftan's examination of fighting back against a 'benevolent dictatorship' of aliens; and Larry Hodges' 'Ghosts of Cretaceous Park', the comic tale of a nasty real estate developer getting his comeuppance thanks to a dinosaur's ghost. One is thoughtful, the other more light-hearted, but both reach their intended targets.

Also in this issue, but not quite as good (though still worth a look): 'One Wicker Day', Andew S. Fuller's story of a mysterious new funeral service (which is more distant from the reader than it really ought to be); 'Wolfling', Laura Anne Gilman's exploration of what it is to be born 'normal' in a world of people with special powers (whose main problem is that its theme is overfamiliar); and "Xenosomnambulism", Lawrence M. Schoen's tale of a student who holds the key to linking Earth with an alien world (a romp that's jolly enough but lacks that extra something to really make it shine).

EDIT: Full review now available here.

Three this month:

A double review of Conrad Williams' The Unblemished and Ramsey Campbell's The Grin of the Dark.

And two magazine reviews from The Fix:
Something Wicked, Issue 6
Postscripts, Issue 14

They're all positive write-ups, so do check everything out.

1. Which children's author worked on a valve for treating hydrocephalus (water on the brain)?

2. Which science fiction author developed the machine that makes Pringles?

WARNING: Comments contain the answers.

Just wanted to draw your attention to an interesting article about fantasy that comes from a rather unusual quarter. I tend to find that games and prose fiction are two things that work differently, and when one tries to behave like the other, the result is often a poor game or a poor story. So I wouldn't generally turn to an article on games for ideas about what works in fiction (or vice versa).

Yet today, I read an article on a site about trading card game that I found to be quite a thoughtful analysis of the issue of speech in a fantasy world. It's actually about the appropriateness (or otherwise) of swearing in fantasy, but I think its ideas have more general relevance. And, though it naturally has technical game-related parts, I think it deserves a wider readership. So, here is Doug Beyer's article "Frakkin' Zounds". If you're interested in fantasy, have a read and see what you think.

There's a daily twelve-question quiz called Bamboozle! on Channel 4 Teletext; every day, there is a different scale of scoring. Yesterday's read:

Today your effort was worthy of:

12: Leo Tolstoy
10-11: Charles Dickens
8-9: Thomas Hardy
6-7: Arthur Conan Doyle
3-5: Ray Bradbury
0-2: Jeffrey Archer

Surely Bradbury deserves better than that..?

Summer Knight by Jim Butcher (2002)

So I was on the train, with a book I wasn't sure I'd like. I duly gave it a hundred pages, then decided life was too short (and no, this wasn't a dream), and turned instead to the other book I'd taken with me as a back-up -- Summer Knight.

The Dresden Files are my current favourite 'palate cleansers' -- that is, books I can rely on to be enjoyable and (relatively) quick reads, in between the other stuff. It's strange: although that other book wasn't the worst-written I have ever read, I've never been so glad to start reading something by a writer who knew how to achieve the effect he wanted. And so I was back in the world of wizard-for-hire Harry Dresden.

In this, the fourth entry in the series, Dresden is 'hired' (or , more accurately, bound) by the Queen of the Winter Court of the faeries to investigate a death which proves to have implications for relations between the two Sidhe courts, which may in turn threaten the entire world -- and, wouldn't you know it, someone's after Harry again?

One thing that concerns me about these long series that build up an elaborate background is that they'll get too big for their own good. For example, thus far in The Dresden Files, there's been mention and/or appearances  of Red, White and Black Courts of vampires; Summer and Winter Courts of faeries; the White Council of wizards; and that's just what I can remember off the top of my head. The plot of Summer Knight draws quite heavily on this background, and at times I did wish for a good ol' supernatural mystery without all the embellishments. Yet I also couldn't help being charmed by some of Butcher's twists on the material (the queen-in-waiting of the Winter Court is a girl with dreadlocks and a T-shirt that reads 'OFF WITH HIS HEAD'); and the story itself was as entertaining as ever -- just as I'd expected when I took it with me on the train journey.

I was all set to blog about the book I'd just finished reading, when I woke up to find the whole experience had been a dream, and the book didn't even exist. Which is probably just as well, because it wasn't a particularly good book anyway.

Small Voices, Big Confessions edited by Chris Lee Ramsden (2006)

Frustratingly patchy anthology from the EditRed online writing community. It's frustrating because these stories genuinely have their moments -- I was struck particularly by how good some of the writers were at creating distinctive narrative voices -- yet I still felt there was something missing, without quite being sure what. Then I read what looks to be the only review of the book currently online, and I think I've worked out what was bugging me: that review mentions the subtext of one of the stories, but I think some would benefit from a bit more subtext; the tales didn't always seem to have as much to them as I'd have hoped for.

Which ones did I like? To pick out four: Eoin Beckett's short, intense character study of two people at a party. Teri Davis Rouvelas's tale of the lady upstairs who keeps leaving sacks of soil outside her door. Aiofe Mannix's child's-eye view of a broken relationship. Aliya Whitely's story of a polar bear who has issues with the number four. In short, this is a diverse anthology, but one that I think you do need to cherry-pick from.

Another month with only one review published (there'll be more in May):

Tales from the Secret City by Cryptopolis.

Yesterday I went along to Alt.Fiction, Derby's festival of science fiction, fantasy and horror. Essentially it's a small genre convention, though unusual (as far as I'm aware) in lasting only a single day; and surely rare (perhaps unique) in being organised by a local council. This was the third year of the event, and my second time attending; it seemed smaller than last year (certainly there were fewer book vendors, if that's anything to go by), but I still had a good time (and managed to buy more books than I intended, as per usual).

Even though I'm not a writer myself, I do tend to find myself interested in panels on subjects like publishing, and yesterday was no exception. Plenty of wise words from people like jjarrold, emphasising particularly the importance of remembering that publishing is a business and writing is a career. The key message to would-be authors seems to be: don't have too romantic a view of the writer's life, but also stay true as far as you can to your vision of what you want to write, within the realities of the commercial marketplace. Sounds a complicated balancing act!

Most entertaining anecdote of the day was desperance's tale of the time he met Quentin Tarantino (last year's was Tony Ballantyne recounting a dream in which he was choosing between two packets of fish fingers, one costing 10p more than the other). Besides panels and anecdotes, another fun part of conventions is getting the chance to see authors in person; yesterday was the first time I'd seen Charles Stross speak, and he proved to be an entertaining and charismatic presence (as genre authors tend to be, in my experience). I really ought to get around to reading one of his books (and, since one was given away in the Alt.Fiction goodie bag, I have no excuse).

One of the issues that comes up around Alt.Fiction is whether the even should expand to cover more than one day. Funding (or lack of it) may make this a moot point; but I think it's good to have a single-day convention. I suppose the main downside is that panels will inevitably have to take a broad-brush approach, given the shortage of time and space; but I think it's more valuable to have an alternative for people who might have thought about going to a convention, but don't want (or can't afford) to stay overnight somewhere.

So, here's to many more successful years for Alt.Fiction! Next on my personal convention calendar is Fantasycon in September. One year, I keep promising myself, I will make the effort to go to Eastercon...

About the Size of It by Warwick Cairns (2007)

Subtitled 'The Common Sense Approach to Measuring Things', I found this book in the library and thought it sounded interesting. Cairns introduces himself as a man who spent ten years researching what people in Britain thought about changing to the metric system; in general, he found, they didn't like the idea. He then poses the question of why this should be, when we embrace changes in areas like technology and fashion quite readily. What follows is a tour of measurements, where they come from, and where they might be heading.

We have a complex relationship to weights and measures in this country. The metric system is what's taught in schools, and has been for... actually, I don't know how long. Yet, if you ask a Brit how tall he or she is, you will most likely get an answer in feet and inches; beer is sold in pubs by the pint; and road signs use miles. On a personal level, I'd use metric units to measure the length of something; but I could no more judge a metre 'by eye' than I could a foot. I think it's a fascinating subject for a book.

And I learnt a lot from About the Size of It: I didn't know how traditional measurements were arrived at; I never realised that litres and centimetres weren't 'official' (under the SI) metric units. Now I do. I also find that Cairns makes his central argument -- that metric units are good when you need to be precise (such as when measuring for scientific experiments), but traditional measurements are well suited to other occasions -- persuasively.

On the downside: although Cairns is a pretty good writer, his conversational style can grate over the course of a whole book; asides are fine, but sometimes it feels as though the author didn't check how the rhythms of it worked it writing. He also doesn't really get into looking at what makes measurements such a special (or, indeed, not-so-special) case when it comes to attitudes towards change. Overall, then, this is indeed an interesting book, but not as interesting as I'd hoped it would be.

Dispossession by Chaz Brenchley (1996)

One of the reasons I decided to include books by my LiveJournal friends in my reading for the 50 Book Challenge was that they coincided with some books I had meant to read for quite a while. I was thinking especially of this one by desperance, which I bought eight years ago and is actually my first Brenchley novel (though I have also thoroughly enjoyed his short fiction). Another reason for choosing to blog about books by my LJ friends is that I was pretty confident I'd enjoy them unreservedly; and now that decision may come back to bite me, because I like the beginning of Dispossession more than I like the ending.

And the beginning is very good indeed. Jonty Marks is a solicitor who wakes up in a hospital bed having been in a car crash, but with no memory of the event -- or of the previous three months. What's more, in that period, he apparently left his girlfriend and met and married another woman, who is now a complete stranger to him. And Jonty, who prides himself on his honesty, now seems to be working for a major local criminal.

I love this sort of mystery (yes, I'm the kind of person who enjoys all the plot twists in programmes like Lost), and the situation only gets stranger as Jonty looks further into it. Couple that with the enthusiasm for language evident in Brenchley's prose, and Dispossession was shaping up to be a treat. And then Brenchley drops in an angel, an angel named Luke: not a 'friend' of Jonty's -- Luke isn't that kind of being -- but someone he can go to for sanctuary. Brenchley treats Luke's existence in a very matter-of-fact way: Jonty's wife knows about him, and nothing feels contrived about the way he's introduced. I had to smile at such a delightfully casual use of the imagination.

As I said, a great start to the book as far as I'm concerned. But I don't think the rest quite matches it. Essentially, I found the solution to the mystery less interesting than the mystery itself (which may be why I've written so much much more here about the latter). But I'll still be investigating Chaz Brenchley's other novels.

Doctor Who: Forever Autumn by Mark Morris (2007)

I don't tend to read much in the way of novelisations these days, but I won this one in last year's FantasyCon raffle, and Mark Morris is a safe pair of hands, and the new series of Doctor Who was starting, so I thought I'd read this to get me in the mood.

Of course, it's not autumn, but I couldn't expect the timing to be absolutely perfect...

It may not be autumn where I am, but it's nearly time for the Hallowe'en Carnival in the small American town of Blackwood Falls. And the monsters are coming out to play: nine-foot-tall ones with pumpkin-like heads and seemingly magical powers of possession and control. Along come the Doctor and his companion, Martha Jones, and the truth is revealed: the creatures aren't supernatural but (of course) aliens called the Hervoken, who crash-landed there long ago and became the stuff of legend. Their science looks like magic to us, and they draw power from human terror. They're planning to go home, but need large amounts of power to do so -- which is bad news for the people of Blackwood Falls. Can the Doctor and Martha save the day? Silly question!

Any story based on a TV series has to get the programme's characters right, and I think Morris captures the manic energy of the Tenth Doctor perfectly; his depiction of Martha perhaps isn't quite so distinctive, but I still found it easy to imagine David Tennant and Freema Agyeman acting out their roles in this story. It's also good fun, Morris writes some vigorous action sequences... That's the good news.

The bad news is that there isn't as much dramatic tension as there ought to be. Morris relies too much on the (apparently) endless functionality of the Doctor's sonic screwdriver as a means to get out of almost any difficulty; and he doesn't place enough restrictions on the Hervoken's abilities, either. In effect, both sides can do whatever they want -- and the story is weakened as a result. So, Forever Autumn is a decent enough romp, but that's about it.