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Yzabel / October 7, 2014

Review: The Infographic Resume

The Infographic Resume: How to Create a Visual Portfolio That Showcases Your Skills and Lands the Job by Hannah Morgan

My rating: [rating=5]

Summary:

The STANDOUT guide to creating a stunning resume Applying for a job used to require two pieces of paper: a resume and an application. Times have changed.

Infographic resumes are in, and they’re not just for designers. Free online tools are popping up every day to help anyone create a dynamic, visual resume-adding panache without sacrificing substance for style.

“The Infographic Resume” provides essential tips and ideas for how to create visual resumes and portfolios that will make you stand out from the crowd. Richly illustrated in full color and including lots of inspiring examples, the book will teach you how to: Create a powerful digital presence and develop the right digital content for your goals Build your self-brand and manage your online reputation Showcase your best work online Grab a hiring manager’s attention in seconds

Packed with dynamic infographics, visual resumes, and other creative digital portfolios, “The Infographic Resume” reveals the most effective tools, eye-catching strategies, and best practices to position yourself for any job in any kind of business.

Review:

(I received a free copy courtesy of NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

To be honest, reviewing and rating non-fiction books is always difficult for me—akin to walking into uncharted territory. I can’t judge them according to my usual standards (plot, atmosphere, characters, etc.), and so I don’t really know what criteria to apply. In the end, for this specific book, I went with “is it going to be useful to me?” The answer is definitely “yes”, considering I’ve been looking to go back to a more creative job than the one I’ve held for the past few years. Is this a biased view? Certainly. Only I have to start somewhere, haven’t I?

The Infographic Resume is a nest of ideas, or at least, of ideas waiting to be born and developed. Not only does it hand out useful advice about what may attract the attention of potential recruiters, it also provides a lot visual examples—alright, this was to be expected, but it still deserves mention. From actual CVs to social networks platforms (LinkedIn, Pinterest, Behance…), job-seeking readers are bound to find something that will help and inspire them.

Maybe some of the job-landing stories in it will seem too good to be true: “the kind of thing that happens once in a lifetime, and always to other people, never to me.” Maybe. On the other hand, I must admit that this book sparked renewed interest in me, and prompted me to get my creative joices flowing when it came to reworking my CV after I got a couple of useful comments about it. I can’t remember when was the last time I had so much fun designing something that, all in all, is utilitarian stuff. I really liked the idea of being able to get all gung-ho, all the more because I was growing seriously tired of stale, traditional CVs typed in Word and full of grandiloquent vocabulary that doesn’t mean much anymore in the end. (Hello, French administration CVs. I loathe thee.)

I honestly think the book can provide inspiration to many job-seekers: graphic designers, of course, but also people like me, who are somewhat creative yet not one hundred percent “in it”, and need some prompting before they’re able to unleash their (probably untapped) potential. As for those who don’t have any graphic design software and/or training, the author also provides links to websites where one can enter information (either manually or pulled from LinkedIn and the likes); this won’t make for fully original resumes, but can certainly help in coming up with something at least somewhat different and eye-catching.

In the end, what I regret most is not reading my ARC sooner, because it would certainly have helped me more, and earlier!

Yzabel / October 7, 2014

Review: Station Eleven

Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel

My rating: [rating=3]

Summary:

One snowy night a famous Hollywood actor slumps over and dies onstage during a production of King Lear. Hours later, the world as we know it begins to dissolve. Moving back and forth in time-from the actor’s early days as a film star to fifteen years in the future, when a theater troupe known as the Traveling Symphony roams the wasteland of what remains-this suspenseful, elegiac, spellbinding novel charts the strange twists of fate that connect five people: the actor, the man who tried to save him, the actor’s first wife, his oldest friend, and a young actress with the Traveling Symphony, caught in the crosshairs of a dangerous self-proclaimed prophet. Sometimes terrifying, sometimes tender, Station Eleven tells a story about the relationships that sustain us, the ephemeral nature of fame, and the beauty of the world as we know it.

Review:

(I received a free copy courtesy of NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

A strange read, one that didn’t seem to have that much of a plot in itself, but that kept me fascinated and enthralled all the same. This is clearly one of those “hard to explain” cases. In other circumstances, I might have found more faults with this book… but I just didn’t, or when I did, they didn’t register with me full-force.

For instance, the Georgian Flu that wiped off 99% of the world population was handled more as a pretext than as a deeply researched medical possibility. And it’s true: from a purely scientific point of view, I don’t think the situation as a whole was handled in a really believable way. When you stop to think about it and consider things logically, it had quite its lot of holes. (E.g.: some people seemed immune, while others remained cooped up in their shelters for weeks… but when they got out, why didn’t they catch the flu? Was it gone, and if yes, why? If not, then did it mean they were immune?).

However, the atmosphere permeating the novel made up for those kinds of details at which I would normally raise an eyebrow. Granted, I did raise an eyebrow—then went on enjoying the prose all the same. Perhaps because I read much of the Severn Airport part while in an actual airport and plane, and was thus fully immersed? Or perhaps because of the Station Eleven story within the story (now that was a comics I’d definitely like to read). Or because the characters’ stories, while not so exceptional, were tied together in a way that just clicked with me. (I tend to enjoy plots that jump between different time periods, present and past… I know this doesn’t work so well for lots of readers. Well, it does for me.)

At the end, some mysteries remain. Where is the Symphony going? What’s with the new grid? What happened to Elizabeth? Is anyone going to ever discover who was the unknown man who tried to save Arthur, and what became of him? In a way, not getting those answers was annoying; on the other hand, I’m not sure having them would be essential to my enjoyment of this novel.

It could have been better. It wasn’t. Yet I connected with it nonetheless. It’s quite strange, indeed.

Yzabel / October 3, 2014

Review: The Original Folk and Fairy Tales of the Brothers Grimm

The Original Folk and Fairy Tales of the Brothers Grimm: The Complete First Edition by Jacob Grimm

My rating: [rating=4]

Summary:

When Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm published their “Children’s and Household Tales” in 1812, followed by a second volume in 1815, they had no idea that such stories as “Rapunzel,” “Hansel and Gretel,” and “Cinderella” would become the most celebrated in the world. Yet few people today are familiar with the majority of tales from the two early volumes, since in the next four decades the Grimms would publish six other editions, each extensively revised in content and style. For the very first time, ” The Original Folk and Fairy Tales of the Brothers Grimm” makes available in English all 156 stories from the 1812 and 1815 editions. These narrative gems, newly translated and brought together in one beautiful book, are accompanied by sumptuous new illustrations from award-winning artist Andrea Dezso.

From “The Frog King” to “The Golden Key,” wondrous worlds unfold–heroes and heroines are rewarded, weaker animals triumph over the strong, and simple bumpkins prove themselves not so simple after all. Esteemed fairy tale scholar Jack Zipes offers accessible translations that retain the spare description and engaging storytelling style of the originals. Indeed, this is what makes the tales from the 1812 and 1815 editions unique–they reflect diverse voices, rooted in oral traditions, that are absent from the Grimms’ later, more embellished collections of tales. Zipes’s introduction gives important historical context, and the book includes the Grimms’ prefaces and notes.

Review:

(I got an ARC courtesy of NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

Though it took me quite some time to finish this book, it wasn’t for want of interest.

It contains both volumes of the tales gathered by the brothers Grimm, published around 1812-1815. I applied for the ARC out of curiosity, and was surprised at some of those stories, at the way the ones I remembered from my childhood was really edulcorated versions: both because of the editing performed by recent publishers, and because of their “authors” themselves, since the brothers reworked many of them years later to make them fit more within Christian morality.

Indeed, while these stories looked familiar, they were also different in how their characters were portrayed, and their actions were carried out. For instance, in the original tales, the “wicked stepmother” is more often than not the actual mother. Parents don’t hesitate to throw children out of their home, to have them killed at the slightest mishap, and the kind of “traditional moral” to the stories isn’t always the one modern readers would have expected. More than the lessons I got used to when I was younger, the tales are examples of how sometimes, cunning or even violence gets the job done faster.

Reading those versions was definitely an intriguing experience, perhaps more from an anthropological point of view than from a leisurely one: somehow, I enjoyed the book’s material more for its comparative value than as a collection of actual tales read for pleasure only. (I guess this may be one of the shortcomings here: I don’t recommend reading everything at once, for a lot of stories become redundant after a while, pôssibly because they’re based off similar traditions. However, if one goes through them at a slower pace, interest remains sparkled. At least, this is what happened to me—and the reason why it took me over a full month to read everything.) The introduction itself is a fairly interesting piece, too, one that gives more information and details about how the Grimm brothers went about collecting the tales.

This book also made me question tales in general. Overall, I mostly read/heard them when I was a child, and later on went to read modern retellings. I had forgotten—or maybe I just didn’t have enough hindsight, nor background at the time to realis this—what kind of place the tales may have had in society, and the way they’re so different from what I’d be looking for today. The place of women, among other things: the greedy wife who always wants more; the jealous mother; the one who wants her own daughter to have it all, while providing minimum effort; the princess shirking responsibility after a hastily-made promise; etc. (Men aren’t spared from this, but I think it just struck me more when it was about women.)

I found the first volume more interesting in general; this may have had to do with how the second one felt more “Christianity-laden”, with characters regularly happening upon “the Lord” or “the Devil”. Those already felt like they bore the traces of what would become their future, more well-known versions.

Overall, it wasn’t such an easy read, but it clearly holds academic value. 3.5/4 stars.

View all my reviews

Yzabel / September 30, 2014

Review: A Call to Duty

A Call to Duty by David Weber and Timothy Zahn

My rating: [rating=3]

Summary:

Growing up, Travis Uriah Long yearned for order and discipline in his life . . . the two things his neglectful mother couldn’t or wouldn’t provide. So when Travis enlisted in the Royal Manticoran Navy, he thought he’d finally found the structure he’d always wanted so desperately.

But life in the RMN isn’t exactly what he expected. Boot camp is rough and frustrating; his first ship assignment lax and disorderly; and with the Star Kingdom of Manticore still recovering from a devastating plague, the Navy is possibly on the edge of budgetary extinction.

The Star Kingdom is a minor nation among the worlds of the Diaspora, its closest neighbors weeks or months away, with little in the way of resources. With only modest interstellar trade, no foreign contacts to speak of, a plague-ravaged economy to rebuild, and no enemies looming at the hyper limit, there are factions in Parliament who want nothing more than to scrap the Navy and shift its resources and manpower elsewhere.

But those factions are mistaken. The universe is not a safe place.

Travis Long is about to find that out.

Review:

(I got an ARC courtesy of NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

Let’s not dwell for too long on the cover, which is definitely a reminder of older SF books design, but didn’t do much for me. (To be faire, I got my share of gorgeous covers hiding stupid novels, though. So I assumed that the contrary might be true as well.)

I must also say that I never read any of the Honor Harrington novels; as a result, I can’t say if it’s true to the Honorverse or not, and can’t compare it to other similar works by those authors. I went into this one not even knowing what I was going into, except that “it seems to be military sci-fi, and I kind of feel like reading this genre at the moment.” Especially since the blurb depicted a somewhat decadent Navy, and that such settings are always ripe for a lot of themes I tend to appreciate.

Travis Long is a young man, even a teenager, whose family doesn’t pay much attention to: his half-brother Gavin is a Lord, and his mother is busy with her work. On a whim, he decides to join the Royal Manticoran Navy, both craving for a discipline he was never subjected to and for a place to be after a stunt that almost went wrong for him. To be honest, I’m still not sure about his motivations: I would’ve liked to see his family problems depicted a little more deeply, perhaps, or to be given more details, because as it is, it seemed just a little “woe is me”. Fortunately, this doesn’t last for long, and Travis doesn’t dwell on it for the whole novel; we only get a little reminder a couple of times. The character tends to be a rule-stickler, which fits as an echo of what he craved. On the other hand, it holds good potential for inner conflict: he sticks to rules, but has a natural tendency to think outside the box, and while the latter helps in tense situations, at some point, I can envision both aspects of his personality getting pitched against each other. Although Travis isn’t a terribly likeable young man in the beginning, there’s definitely room for development here. He didn’t strike me as a character who would forever remain the same.

The novel focuses on two major themes: Travis’s life in the Navy (as well as the problems that it has to face later—not going to spoil), and the game of politics that runs behind the scenes. The Manticore system is an interesting enough setting: a kingdom actually born from what used to be a corporation, Manticore Ltd. (I have no idea how the Board ever came to decide going monarchical was a good idea, but why not. This is also one of those aspects I would’ve want to learn more about. However, as I said, I don’t know the Honorverse, and perhaps this is explained in another book. I still wish there had been more of an explanation here, for readers like me.) In a way, it reminded me a little of parliamentarian monarchies like the UK’s, with a king—and even a former ruler named “Queen Elizabeth”—who holds decisional power… but not so much that he can afford to disregard Parliament’s pressures.

In the novel, the political intrigue runs mostly around the conundrum of “what to do with a Navy that has never known a war, and whose last round of battles was against some pirates, one century ago?” Gavin Winterfall, Travis’s half-brother, plays a minor role in this, but one that might expand in the next novel, perhaps, because he turned out to be more intrigue-savvy than his own allies thought at first. As for the RMN itself, its own people sometimes question their place, wondering if what they do is so useful, and if they’ll be ready the day a real war looms.

The story itself was quite entertaining, though a little heavy-handed on technical and military terms; I could adapt to those, and I enjoyed the atmosphere they created, but they might be a problem for readers who’re not keen on them. The dialogues made me feel like I was really on a spaceship, with operations going on following a given protocol. I also enjoyed how Travis manages to play an important part, thanks to his ideas, yet isn’t the one who completely saves the day all the time (he’s only enlisted, not a captain or another officer, and his being THE saviour who does everything wouldn’t have fit in my opinion). Even the way he gets rewarded reflects how Navy personnel has to traipse around potential political mishaps.

I’m not exactly fond of the ending, though. It seemed kind of… predictable to me.

The novel has its flaws, and I wouldn’t consider it as excellent, but as a beginning to a series, I think it sets the stage for a lot of potentially interesting developments, and I certainly wouldn’t mind reading the next installment. 3.5 stars.

Yzabel / September 26, 2014

Review: A Sudden Light

A Sudden Light by Garth Stein

My rating: [rating=2]

Summary:

In the summer of 1990, fourteen-year-old Trevor Riddell gets his first glimpse of Riddell House. Built from the spoils of a massive timber fortune, the legendary family mansion is constructed of giant, whole trees, and is set on a huge estate overlooking Puget Sound. Trevor’s bankrupt parents have begun a trial separation, and his father, Jones Riddell, has brought Trevor to Riddell House with a goal: to join forces with his sister, Serena, dispatch Grandpa Samuel—who is flickering in and out of dementia—to a graduated living facility, sell off the house and property for development into “tract housing for millionaires,” divide up the profits, and live happily ever after.

But Trevor soon discovers there’s someone else living in Riddell House: a ghost with an agenda of his own. For while the land holds tremendous value, it is also burdened by the final wishes of the family patriarch, Elijah, who mandated it be allowed to return to untamed forestland as a penance for the millions of trees harvested over the decades by the Riddell Timber company. The ghost will not rest until Elijah’s wish is fulfilled, and Trevor’s willingness to face the past holds the key to his family’s future.

Review:

(I got an ARC courtesy of NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

A book that started well in my opinion, yet lost momentum along the way.

I liked its stifling setting, how the characters were isolated in that huge, derelict house, the feeling of entrapment (mostly through Serena, who had stayed there for her whole life and never travelled or did the things she wanted to do). Riddell House was permeated with a strong atmosphere of oppressive memories, between ghosts that may or may not exist and memories weighing heavily on everyone. Secret rooms and passages, hints at family secrets, letters and trinkets appearing in unexpected places… Basically, the setting was really what fascinated me here.

The writing style was beautiful, too, befitting the poetic aspects of the nature outside the house (I’m positive the Thoreau-like vibes I got from it were totally on purpose).

On the other hand, what worked in descriptions didn’t work in dialogue, and unfortunately, this left a stain on my enjoyment of the novel. The characters in general had a tendency to talk “like in a book”—meaning I constantly felt that they had rehearsed their speech beforehand. Of course, the narrator not being the 14-year-old Trevor, but an older Trevor, might account for that; however, the effect it caused still remained a problem for me. Perhaps filtering the story through the older Trevor’s voice wasn’t the best choice here; perhaps I would have liked it more if it had been unadultered. It’s hard to tell. Serena especially had a weird way of talking, going into soliloquies at times, as if performing for an audience, and her speech patterns definitely sounded unnatural.

In general, I found the mystery lacking in depth. The ghost aspect of the novel was nothing exceptional (if you’re looking for something spooky, you won’t find it here), although I must say I liked Harry’s and Benjamin’s story, and the way it ended. The family secrets were somewhat to be expected, as well as the characters’ motivations. I also thought the novel crammed a lot of elements together (ghosts, lost loves, illness, madness…), yet went on tangents that made it drag, resulting in a paradoxical narrative that was both too short and too long.

Not uninteresting, but I expected much more out of it, and didn’t get it in the end.

Yzabel / September 25, 2014

Review: Silhouette

Doctor Who: Silhouette by Justin Richards

My rating: [rating=1]

Summary:

“Vastra and Strax and Jenny? Oh no, we don’t need to bother them. Trust me.”

Marlowe Hapworth is found dead in his locked study, killed by an unknown assailant. This is a case for the Great Detective, Madame Vastra.

Rick Bellamy, bare-knuckle boxer, has the life drawn out of him by a figure dressed as an undertaker. This angers Strax the Sontaran.

The Carnival of Curiosities, a collection of bizarre and fascinating sideshows and performers. This is where Jenny Flint looks for answers.

How are these things connected? And what does Orestes Milton, rich industrialist, have to do with it all? This is where the Doctor and Clara come in. The Doctor and his friends find themselves thrust into a world where nothing and no one are what they seem. Can they unravel the truth before the most dangerous weapon ever developed is unleashed on London?

Review:

(I got an ARC courtesy of NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

This is only the second Doctor Who novel I read. In the meantime, I managed to catch up on a lot of episodes I hadn’t seen (including the ones with the Twelfth Doctor); it was a good idea, since otherwise I would have had less clues about who the characters were, especially when the Paternoster gang was concerned. Unfortunately, it was therefore also very easy to realise that they weren’t that well-portrayed, at least not in my opinion. Hadn’t I watched the most recent seasons, I would’ve likely been confused; having watched them, I don’t recognise many people in here. I guess Strax felt the closest to how he behaves in the series, but then, he may have been the easiest one to grasp as well.

I’m particularly miffed about the way Vastra and Jenny were handled. Vastra’s supposed to be the Great Detective, the one who inspired Doyle to write Sherlock Holmes’s adventures, and yet her role was completely stripped off meaning; she didn’t get to do much, looked like she was here mostly to get into trouble and then saved, and this doesn’t sit with me as far as she’s concerned. Not a word about her relationship with Jenny either, which I found odd. This applied to several characters, in that I couldn’t get a strong grasp of how they factored in the mystery, except to get into trouble (and only the women in this story happened to get into trouble and need saving; I don’t recall Strax or the Doctor doing the same). As for the Doctor, he didn’t feel and act much like the one I got to see in the most recent episodes. Clara was just insipid. At best they all were bland, at worst not true to their selves, cast in damsel in distress roles, and not allowed to unleash their full potential.

The plot was somewhat interesting. I liked the first half, for the atmosphere woven through the Carnival, and the way the mystery started to unfold. I liked it much less towards the end: nice twist, though predictable, but muddled. (Also, two characters get together without any serious apparent reason; while somewhat cute, it was useless, especially with the other relationships in the story not mentioned or developed.)

Conclusion: 1.5 stars. Mildly enjoyable as a quick read while travelling, yet totally forgettable in the long run, with characters that have little to do with who they are on TV. (And the point of reading a novel based on a TV series, to me, is to find the themes and people I liked in the show, after all…)

Yzabel / September 19, 2014

Review: Amity

Amity by Micol Ostow

My rating: [rating=1]

Summary:

For fans of Stephen King and American Horror Story, a gruesome thriller suggested by the events of the Amityville Horror.

Inspired by a true-crime story of supernatural happenings and gory murders, Amity spans two generations and beyond to weave an overlapping, interconnected tale of terror, insanity, danger, and death.

Review:

(I got a copy courtesy of NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

I watched the Amityville movie some 20 years ago, and never read the book, so I won’t comment much on how faithful to the original story this novel is… or how it diverged from it. I remember some elements (the red room, characters always waking up at the same time, the door banging, the “healer” character being thwarted…), and I think they were used in ways both similar and different. Is it a good or a bad thing? I don’t know. For me, it felt appropriate, at least. I tend to like cameos, winks at other works of literature, and so one.

I liked how both narrators’ voices were clearly distinct, not only because of the fonts used, but simply because their tone, their ways of thinking, were different enough. Gwen is more fragile, while Connor’s instability is expressed more violently. Gwen is more intuitive, and Connor “colder”. In fact, his case was pretty easy to figure out, and his narrative reflected his problems fairly well.

This said, while I enjoyed the setting, the writing itself unfortunately got on my nerves to such an extent that it ruined my reading experience. Why? Too much hammering, too much repetitions (she was shot in the head, I mean, you know, go away crazy, I mean, she was shot in the head, she was shot IN THE HEAD). I get why they were here, emphasising Gwen’s unstable mental state and Connor’s sociopathic tendencies, but I have an aversion to heavy-handed writing styles, the ones that tell me what I should feel, instead of subtly hinting at it. Apart from the standard sentences (see above), often the story made a point of repeating the same event several times, as if to flash a huge neon sign above it, in case someone would have missed it. Example:

My mother stood in the doorway of the sewing room.
My mother stood, head cocked slightly, looking quizzical, in the doorway of the sewing room.
She wasn’t directly behind me[…]
She hadn’t been behind me at all.
She’d been standing in the doorway of the sewing room.
My mother had been standing, not behind me, but in the doorway of the sewing room.
She’d been standing in the doorway of the sewing room this whole time.

Frankly, this doesn’t induce fear in me. This just makes me cringe and roll my eyes, thinking, “OK, I GET IT.” I don’t like being openly manipulated. Suspension of disbelief, for me, rests on a text’s ability to make me forget the ropes, so that I end up realising that I’ve been led all the way without realising it. Conversely, I don’t react well to techniques that poke me without subtlety in the right direction. It’s like someone’s grabbing my head, looking at me in the eyes and screaming: “Look, this is scary! I’m repeating it because you’re meant to feel it! Are you scared yet, Huh? HUH?” As said, I get why such effects were used, Gwen and Connor being damaged characters. But the way they were handled just irked me. Sometimes, it happens. And it’s too bad.

The novel also borrows from a few other works (notably “Carrie”, for the stones), and I don’t think that was a good idea. It came out of nowhere as far as Gwen was concerned, and though it had its use, it just felt like a cop-out to me. And not frightening either. Mostly, I didn’t find this novel scary. It lacked subtlety to achieve that, and the last chapters were too muddled to give it a proper ending.

I had high hopes for this story, and I wish I had liked it, but alas, this didn’t come to pass. 1.5 stars.

Yzabel / September 18, 2014

Review: Afterworlds

Afterworlds by Scott Westerfeld

My rating: [rating=2]

Summary:

Darcy Patel has put college and everything else on hold to publish her teen novel, Afterworlds. Arriving in New York with no apartment or friends she wonders whether she’s made the right decision until she falls in with a crowd of other seasoned and fledgling writers who take her under their wings… Told in alternating chapters is Darcy’s novel, a suspenseful thriller about Lizzie, a teen who slips into the ‘Afterworld’ to survive a terrorist attack. But the Afterworld is a place between the living and the dead and as Lizzie drifts between our world and that of the Afterworld, she discovers that many unsolved – and terrifying – stories need to be reconciled. And when a new threat resurfaces, Lizzie learns her special gifts may not be enough to protect those she loves and cares about most.

Review:

(I got an ARC courtesy of NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

Pretty interesting premise, but in the end I found the execution wanting, and the stories not that interesting, unfortunately.

I really liked the beginning: Darcy having to navigate her way in New York, meeting published authors as well as other “debs” like her (people whose book was to be published in the upcoming months), having to take editing and rewriting tasks into account… The first pages of Lizzie’s story were gripping, too, and I appreciated how we’re shown the final version of Darcy’s book, running parallel to her own editing of the first draft, with all the pitfalls that were in it (exposition chapters, huge info-dumps…) and were then removed. As someone who likes writing, too,
I couldn’t help but find this comment about the YA scene and authors’ jobs quite interesting. The book is full of little allusions to similar themes: Darcy obviously wrote her novel during NaNoWriMo 2012, the Darcy/Lizzie hint at “Pride and Prejudice” is totally acknowledged, the authors debate about what’s more important (plot? characters? conflict? setting?), and so on.

However, a lot of aspects in “Afterworlds” were problematic.

For starters, I’m not sure YA readers not specifically interested in writing would “get it”. Clearly it’s going to be a hit-or-miss here.

Also, the characters weren’t that impressive. Those from Darcy’s novel were rather bland in my opinion, and what I may deem “typical YA cut-outs”. Yamaraj: the mysterious love interest without much of a personality. Jamie: the best friend who, in Darcy’s copy-editor’s own terms, “has car, lives with father”, and not much more. In fact, Darcy’s novel would have deserved to stand on its own, because it would’ve allowed the author to properly develop its world and characters, and make it the gripping idea it seemed to be in the beginning. (I’m still convinced that opening scene in the airport is a proper attention-catcher.)

Darcy was definitely annoying: totally immature, without any sense of responsibility (she missed so many deadlines, such as the ones for college applications, lease renewal, and her writing was two inches from going the same way), jumping to conclusions, thinking in terms of the world revolving around her… Defects I would’ve happily forgiven, if she had learnt from them, but she didn’t. And in the end? In the end, Little Miss Lucky still got lucky, still landed an astonishing deal, still managed to waltz out of problems without that much of a hitch. All things that are potential insults at actual writers, the large majority that doesn’t land an agent after just a few weeks of querying, nor a $300,000 book deal for his/her first novel. I’m all in favour of selling dreams, but those were too much a matter of dumb luck, not of work and personal improvement. I didn’t root for Darcy at all. (I was also rather miffed at her plot taking a “let’s focus on the love relationship” turn. There were so many other things it could have focused on…)

Mostly, I felt that this book had great potential in being a pretty good parody, but couldn’t make up its mind about being one or not. Why a parody? For all the jabs at YA novels, at their shortcomings, elements I tend to notice as well when I read such stories. “Afterworlds” could be an excellent critique of the current market—a market I personally find saturated with cookie-cutter themes and plots (the same old kind of love interest, the same trend of characters whose questionable decisions put them in the too-stupid-to-live category…). Unfortunately, the way it is, it fell into the exact pit traps it (unconsciously or not?) denounced.

A note as well about a few questions raised throughout Darcy’s narrative. There was an interesting discussion about culture appropriation, and how Darcy’s use of Yama, an actual deity from Hindu mythology, amounted to erasing Hinduism, or at least part of it, from her world, by not openly acknowledging him as part of this religion. I found this point very valid. And yet, at the same time, Darcy herself represents a removal of cultural heritage: she’s of Indian origin, but apart from her surname and physical description, she’s the typical “white protagonist”. (She’s not religious, her family isn’t particularly religious either, they all behave like standard Americans in novels… In other words: why make her from a different culture, if it’s not to use it? Was it just for the sake of having a non-white protagonist… or, on the contrary, to point at how many other novels appropriate various cultures, only to “whiten” them?)

The underlying critique is definitely present, and something I can’t help thinking about, wondering if it was on purpose, or totally accidental. I don’t know how to take this novel, except with a grain of salt. I’m giving it 2 stars because of the parody it could be, one that made me snicker and nod my head in acknowledgment. But story-wise, I think it should either have been made a stronger read (as it was, it became boring rather quickly), or have gone all the way as a more obvious means of denouncing the many problems going rampant in the YA publishing industry. If it’s one, I’m not sure that many people will realise it, unfortunately (and especially not younger readers—not because they’re young, just because they may not have the necessary reading background to see the critique I mentioned).

Yzabel / September 14, 2014

Review: Two Hundred and Twenty-One Baker Streets

Two Hundred and Twenty-One Baker Streets: An Anthology of Holmesian Tales Across Time and Space by David Thomas Moore

My rating: [rating=3]

Summary:

The world’s most famous detective, as you’ve never seen him before! This is a collection of orginal short stories finding Holmes and Watson in times and places you would never have expected!

A dozen established and up-and-coming authors invite you to view Doyle’s greatest creation through a decidedly cracked lens.

Read about Holmes and Watson through time and space, as they tackle a witch-trial in seventeenth century Scotland, bandy words with Andy Warhol in 1970s New York, travel the Wild Frontier in the Old West, solve future crimes in a world of robots and even cross paths with a young Elvis Presley…

Set to include stories by Kasey Lansdale, Guy Adams, Jamie Wyman, J E Cohen, Gini Koch, Glen Mehn, Kelly Hale, Kaaron Warren, Emma Newman and more.

Review:

(I received an ARC courtesy of NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

3.5 stars.

Like most anthologies, this one included interesting stories, and others that didn’t impress me much.

It focuses not on the Sherlock Holmes we know, but on other approaches, such as Holmes and Watson in the 70s, or as teenage girls, or in a China-like land of magic. This definitely stretches the canon pretty far, but also allows for something different. I’m quite an avid reader of Doyle’s original stories, and I’m always of a mixed opinion regarding that kind of approach: part of me wants to see what else can be done, in alternative universes, while another part always remains wary of what is going to be done to “my” Holmes, because past some point, it’s not really Holmes & Watson anymore. I’d deem myself as straddling the fence here.

Mostly I found this collection ranging from average to good, nothing abysmal or excellent. One thing I appreciated here, though, is the way Watson was handled: like a valuable partner to Holmes. I’ve always disliked when he was shown as a bumbling idiot (which he is really far from being); I didn’t get that feeling here. Whether as a drug-dealer in the 60s’ New york City or as a magician at the court of a powerful lord, Watson (or Jane, or Wu Tsan…) wasn’t some of comic relief, but a character in his/her own right.

On the other hand, for an anthology that wanted itself different, sometimes I thought it could’ve carried things just a tad bit further, for instance by playing more on the female!Holmes or female!Watson variation, or by exploring other venues than London or the United States, which were often used. Another gripe would be that the mysteries in some of the stories weren’t so interesting; a couple of them didn’t even have Sherlock solve something.

The ones I liked:

The Final Conjuration, in which “Wu Tsan” the magician summons a demon called “The Sherlock” to help him investigate the mysterious death of one of the Seven Wizards of his country. The twist at the end definitely made me grin. Clever, clever Holmes.
Parallels, in which “Jane” writes AU Sherlock/Holmes fanfiction she doesn’t want her best friend “Charlotte” to see. Nothing really unexpected here, but I have a weak spot for stories that play on tropes, web communities, fanfiction, and/or hint to other books or series. Charlotte also mirrored well enough Holmes’s sometimes devious ways of causing clues to pop up.
A Woman’s Place also caught my attention for the way it plays on Mrs. Hudson’s role as someone who’s always here to listen to conversations if she so decides, and why she does it.
Half There/All There if you have at least some knowledge of the 60s’ scene and like reading about it, and for its exploration of Watson and Holmes’s potential relationshop.
The Innocent Icarus is interesting as well for its worldbuilding: a Victorian setting in which everybody has some kind of special power, and that allows for another type of questioning (i.e. the different reactions of people who’re born without powers).

It’s not the best anthology I’ve ever read, and it might deter a reader who’s not at ease with stories sometimes veering towards the bizarre and nonsensical, but overall, it was still a pleasant enough read.

Yzabel / September 12, 2014

The Thief Taker

The Thief Taker by C.S. Quinn

My rating: [rating=2]

Summary:

The year is 1665. Black Death ravages London. A killer stalks the streets in a plague doctor’s hood and mask…

When a girl is gruesomely murdered, thief taker Charlie Tuesday reluctantly agrees to take on the case. But the horrific remains tell him this is no isolated death. The killer’s mad appetites are part of a master plan that could destroy London – and reveal the dark secrets of Charlie’s own past.

Now the thief taker must find this murderous mastermind before the plague obliterates the evidence street by street. This terrifying pursuit will take Charlie deep into the black underbelly of old London, where alchemy, witchcraft and blood-spells collide.

In a city drowned in darkness, death could be the most powerful magic of all.

Review:

(I got an ARC courtesy of NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

When it comes to knowing whether you liked a book or not, some are really hard to place. This novel is one of those.

I really liked its atmosphere: London in 1665, the way its streets and buildings were depicted, how travelling from one place to another was so much different from what we know today, the many people we get to see, all both divided and united in a common fear. The plague is raging, and everyone wants out… or tries to do with what they have, including remedies and protective measures that we would definitely find stupid today, but that must have made sense at some point. The illness is sometimes depicted in really gruesome ways, and it helps enforcing the constant fear, the terror as soon as someone realises his spouse or her friend is developing “plague tokens”. The description of the plague doctor was also very vivd, instilling dread as soon as he appeared.

The interactions between Charlie and Anna-Maria were quite funny at times—he the boy left in an orphanage and proficient in the ways of the street, she a young woman with the manners and expectations of someone born in a good, though impoverished family. At first, I had my fears that
she would be a dead weight, but fortunately she proved she had resources of her own when it came to improvising and remaining strong throughout their journey to find who killed her sister.

However, I thought the plot on too many convenient occurrences (that happened by chance, and not because Charlie or Maria already had the relationships or resources needed). For instance, a character who discovered one of the victims’ corpses later appears to work for another character that Charlie happens to know, and is also a relation of yet another character that Charlie also happens to know. All right, a lot of people had either fled or died from the plague, but surely the world can’t be such a small place all the time? I would have accepted those coincidences easily if they had been of Charlie’s making, but here they were too much on the deus ex machina side.

I also found the last chapters to be a muddle of sorts. Some things happened, yet when I thought about them, I realised that I didn’t see them actually happen in a chapter, and that there logically wouldn’t have had time for them to happen; the narrative should have shown them to the reader, at least. Revelations about the real identity of the murderer left me wondering if I had completely missed something, or if it was just confusing. Same with how everyone was related within the plot. I felt as if everything was dumped on me all at once, too abruptly, and in a way
that didn’t always make sense.

Finally, I wished a few more elements had been explained. What of Charlie’s brother? What secrets did the papers hold? Was there actually some intriguing at the Court, considering how many hints were dropped that the King knew something, or that some of the people close to him were involved in some conspiracy? (Unless this book is the beginning of a series, in which case such information may be revealed in the next installment, but I’m not so sure about that.)

Conclusion: I really liked the depiction of plague-ravaged London in the 17th century, but the plot didn’t cut it so much for me in the end. 2.5 stars.