Yzabel / October 10, 2014

Review: Jackaby

JackabyJackaby by William Ritter

My rating: [rating=4]

Summary:

Miss Rook, I am not an occultist,” Jackaby said. “I have a gift that allows me to see truth where others see the illusion–and there are many illusions. All the world’s a stage, as they say, and I seem to have the only seat in the house with a view behind the curtain.”

Newly arrived in New Fiddleham, New England, 1892, and in need of a job, Abigail Rook meets R. F. Jackaby, an investigator of the unexplained with a keen eye for the extraordinary–including the ability to see supernatural beings. Abigail has a gift for noticing ordinary but important details, which makes her perfect for the position of Jackaby’s assistant. On her first day, Abigail finds herself in the midst of a thrilling case: A serial killer is on the loose. The police are convinced it’s an ordinary villain, but Jackaby is certain it’s a nonhuman creature, whose existence the police–with the exception of a handsome young detective named Charlie Cane–deny.

Review:

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

I must say something, first, about those “X meets Y” comparisons: publishers, don’t do that. Please. Just don’t. Because while it makes you feel that it’s attracting more readers, the truth is that at least half the time, your people get it wrong, and it doesn’t do good to the book in the long run. Please let books rest on their own merits. Because this one has merits nonetheless, in spite of the misguided attempt to market it as something it isn’t really.

I found myself enjoying this novel for its humour:

“There’s a jar in my office marked ‘Bail.’ If you don’t hear from me by tonight, just bring it down to the Mason street Station, would you? I’m usually in the first or second cell.”

And how it wove supernatural elements (notably fairies) into its narrative. Although some of those occurrences were somewhat predictable, it was the kind of predictable that I wanted to see, that I expected, and that made me smile, not roll my eyes.

Abigail was an enjoyable narrator, somewhat passive at times, but more in a way that involved her getting used to her new situation—and then getting her voice and own wishes heard, rather than accept to remain in the background like a prim and proper lady. While she was a klutz at times, she also acknowledged it with humour, and struck me as a character with room to grow into a strong protagonist. She started off traveling after committing what one might deem a silly youthful mistake, but it’s a mistake I couldn’t really blame her for, because she made it wishing to take her life into her own hands, not remaining hidden behind petticoats.

Jackaby is a very quirky character, one that has a lot of strengths, especially when it comes to perceiving the unseen, the hidden world behind our world, and to act upon such knowledge… with a bit of wit he’s not aware of:

“I assure you, I am a consummate professional. I do not cast spells!”

Yet he isn’t perfect, and can definitely do with an assistant who’ll pay attention to more mundane things. I thought he and Abigail completed each other quite nicely in that regard—and, just as important to me, they weren’t thrown into some immediate romance subplot (I hope they’ll never be). Granted, there is a bit of a romantic interest in the novel, only directed towards another character, and without obfuscating the plot. In such a novel, it would just have damaged everything; I really appreciate that the romance trope wasn’t given more sway in here.

The mystery wasn’t too difficult to solve—I started suspecting who the culprit was early enough—but the dialogue lines, Abigail’s narrative and the secondary characters were interesting and pleasant to read about.

Yzabel / September 19, 2014

Review: Amity

AmityAmity 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

AfterworldsAfterworlds 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 / August 24, 2014

Review: Darkness

DarknessDarkness by Erin Eveland

My rating: [rating=1]

Summary:

One Girl. One Boy. And the Masters of Darkness. See the Shadow Creatures. They are everywhere. But you can’t run from the shadows or the Masters who control them.

Catherine has been born with a supernatural power called Darkness. The Masters of Darkness have found her and it’s just a matter of time before someone claims her.

An Interactive Novel
A QR Code starts the beginning of each chapter connecting the reader to specific art or music that ties into the mood and setting of the novel. Using the quick response code in print and eBook formatting, Darkness incorporates visual and sound to heighten the reading experience.

Review:

(I got this book from NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

Try as I might, I couldn’t get into this novel, in spite of a theme that seemed appealing to me. Although I liked the idea of “interactive” parts (codes/links leading to songs, videos, pictures.. that had artistic value regarding the various chapters).

I think the main reasons to this are that:

1) I couldn’t connect with the characters at all. Perhaps because I’m not currently in the mood for Bleak Life Is Bleak worlds, where nothing the people do seem to be able to get them out of their misery? Catherine had a strong streak, but in spite of that, I found her extremely passive, basically waiting on a guy that wouldn’t look at her so often, just because they had been friends for a couple of years before that. This, in itself, was partly understandable (wanting to escape a horrible life with someone you love), except that he didn’t show any inclination to do so, she never tried to prod and see how he was feeling about it, and so it looked less like hope than unfounded infatuation.

2) The romance between Nathan and Catherine: no chemistry to speak of. Again, with more action and less wishful-thinking-in-my-little-corner on their part, it could have worked.

3) The whole Darkness/Light conflict and mythology was confusing. It made more sense when Jorgen explained it, but this comes rather late in the story. In the end, I’m still not sure if Catherine is Darkness or Light or a mix of both, nor what exactly Artros wanted of her.

4) The story lacked editing. A few typos here and there, I can live with. However, the story had a tendency to go into rambling, about the thoughts of this or that character, as if at some point, several versions of those thoughts had been written, then left all together because choosing one turned too hard to do. It slowed down the pace and caused me to start skimming after a while.

5) Nothing much happens before the 65-68% mark. The characters are unhappy, then unhappy again, then something makes them more unhappy… And I just can’t believe that after Kathy’s episode with the hospital, no social worker pulled Cathering out of there. I know the CPS don’t have the most brilliant reputation, but that was stretching it. (And why didn’t Catherine do anything on her own, anyway? It’s not like she was staying with her mother out of love and respect, her basic needs weren’t even met, and frankly, considering her place and living style, going to some orphanage for two years might not even have been the worst option here.)

On the good side, the idea of Darkness as a power, of controlling Shadow Creatures, was interesting. Just not used here in a way that would have made me like this story.

1.5 stars.

Yzabel / August 22, 2014

Review: The Wonder of All Things

The Wonder of All ThingsThe Wonder of All Things by Jason Mott

My rating: [rating=3]

Summary:

On an ordinary day, at an air show like that in any small town across the country, a plane crashes into a crowd of spectators, killing and injuring dozens. But when the dust clears, a thirteen-year-old girl named Ava is found huddled beneath a pocket of rubble with her best friend, Wash. He is injured and bleeding, and when Ava places her hands over him, his wounds miraculously disappear. 

Ava has a unique gift: she can heal others of their physical ailments. Until the air show tragedy, her gift was a secret. But now the whole world knows, and suddenly Ava is thrust into the spotlight. People from all over the globe begin flocking to her small town, looking for healing and eager to glimpse the wonder of a miracle. But Ava’s unusual ability comes at a great cost—her own health—and as she grows weaker with each healing, Ava begins searching for an escape. Wash agrees to help Ava, but little does she know he has his own secret he’s been harboring, and soon Ava finds herself having to decide just how much she’s willing to sacrifice in order to save the one she loves most.

Review:

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

A novel that raised interesting questions, but that in the end failed to deliver some answers. I don’t mean THE answers, because I don’t think there’s any definite one. It’s more a feeling on my part that it didn’t go as far as its premise could (and should) have taken it.

The story deals with Ava, a thireteen-year-old girl who suddenly reveals a healing power. Unfortunately, this power comes with a price, and the more she uses it, the more her own health suffers. However, as news the event that revealed her existence spreads throughout the country, she and her family are confronted with the many opinions of many people about what she should do with her newfound ability… and those opinions are quite revealing of what drives human beings.

Ava’s father, her stepmother, other people around her, are all tempted, at some point, to ask her to perform some healing, each for their own motives. Macon (her father) because he’s at a loss, seeing his only daughter wither, and trying to find a way to put an end to it, even though this might mean pushing her through more healing at first. Carmen (her stepmother) because there’s a baby on the way, and who knows what might go wrong? In a way, they’re somewhat justified in their “demands”, and one may wonder: are they selfish? Or are they only being people, with their own temporary weakness when confronted to something so awe-inspiring? At the same time, other people, such as Wash’s grandmother, don’t demand anything at all—and those who don’t demand anything aren’t always those who’re the less in need.

I think The Wonder of All Things makes us question those hypothetical motives in ourselves as well. If someone with such a healing power was to appear, would we be entitled to demand they heal just about anyone, regardless of the cost to their own health? Would we deem them “selfish” if they were to keep their ability for their loved ones only, knowing that doing more would kill them? Would such a person have a “responsibility” to everyone, should s/he be expected to sacrifice his/her own future? Some may say yes, some may say no, some may not know. I don’t know. Part of me would likely want such a power to be used; yet another part kept revolting, thinking, “Guys, this is Ava’s life. You have no right to tell her what to do with it.”

This is where, in my opinion, the novel could have gone further, and didn’t. For instance, we know early on that news about Ava spread through the internet, but not once do the main characters try to use the same media to tell the world the truth about her ability: that it’s hurting her. Not once do they force other people to face their own demands, if only by simply asking: “You want me to heal your child/father/spouse, but considering I can’t heal a lot of people, tell me, why should I choose him/her over someone else? Tell me. Give me a reason that isn’t a selfish one, you who’re calling me ‘selfish’.” (This is definitely something I was expecting some character, any character, to do at some point.) In a way, they may have been too passive about this, maybe expecting things to calm down on their own—wishful thinking, that.

On the other hand, there was also a lot of beauty in this story, in how Ava and Carmen had the opportunity to find an unexpected common ground in a situation that could just have well have divided them even more. And the parts where Ava remembered her own mother were touching.

I liked this story, I did. I just wanted the characters to be more on the confrontational side, regarding other people around them.

Yzabel / August 15, 2014

Review: Accession

AccessionAccession by Terah Edun

My rating: [rating=1]

Summary:

Sixteen-year-old Katherine Thompson wasn’t trained to rule a coven. That was her sister – perfect, beautiful Rose. But when a mysterious plane crash kills off the heir presumptive of the Sandersville coven she has no choice.

After stepping in to fill her sister’s shoes, Katherine realizes she didn’t have a clue – faery wars, depressed trolls and angry unicorns are just the beginning.

For centuries, her family has served the high Queens on both sides of the Atlantic but it is a well-known rule that mid-level witches stay away from high-level Queens.

But when Katherine’s youngest cousin vanishes without a trace in the Atlanta court and no one wants to investigate, Katherine decides to step into the darkness on her own. She will soon discover that nothing, in a queen’s court, is as it seems.

Review:

(I was given a copy through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

This was a fast read, but I’m afraid to admit that’s because I ended up skimming after a while: I couldn’t stand the telling-not-showing style. Actually, I was this close to DNFing, and only finished because I felt I had to write a review.

There was definite groundwork here for an interesting world (the witch queens of the original thirteen colonies, having to maintain political balance between various factions of supernatural creatures…). It is a rich world, with a lot of tensions, differences between the Queens and how they rule their respective territories, alliances that may be toppled at the slightest change, diplomatic conundrums to keep in mind, and a potential political assassination (Rose’s death was pitched as an accident; I so can’t believe that).

However, I think this setting wasn’t exploited in a way that would have made the reading pleasant, mostly because of the pacing and the writing style—two aspects that tie into each other, in my opinion. I started sensing this problem in the first two chapters, and it got confirmed later, as more and more information was dumped onto the reader in the middle of scenes. For instance, there’s this one scene where the Queen is sentencing a secondary character, and while it should have been filled with tension, it got slowed down by Katherine remembering information about other courts and other events: it wasn’t uninteresting, but it definitely dragged the plot down. Other similar scenes suffered the same fate.

Also, Katherine’s character just didn’t appeal to me, both in personality and in how almost everything was introduced. She had a tendency to just voice out loud whatever went through her head, especially when she was alone, which looked really weird (this coming from someone who tends to think out loud, so if I find it bizarre, then it sure means something). She acted in immature ways, wasted time in useless bouts of dialogue. Worst, most of the time, I was told she was this and that, felt like this or that, supposed this or that character thought this or that… A lot of telling, and too little showing. It coincided with a few plot points coming out of the blue: we’re told she’s not popular at school, is picked on by teachers and at best ignored by a lot of pupils… but then, around the 25% mark, we suddenly learn she had a boyfriend six months ago. I think he should have been introduced sooner, since it was kind of important (all the more because of some big reveal later on).

As mentioned above, the writing consisted in much more telling than actual actions showing the characters as they really were, and I caught quite a few similes that looked pretty strange and useless:

“Their massive trunks were so wide at the base that the trees looked like the round teepees of the Native American shamans who came to Georgia once a year to renew the sacred 1850 concord of Coven-Shaman Relations.”

Some sentences/paragraphs I had to read three times in order to get their meaning:

“I guess I can’t ever call life in Sandersville boring again, Katherine thought wryly as she ignored an itch in her eye that she firmly told herself she’d deal with later. She didn’t want to draw attention to her presence in the room now. Besides, it was more than an itch. As long as she ignored the sensation it would wait and simmer, like an itch at the corner of her eye. That itch that represented more than a space of skin in need of being scratched, it was the patch on her mind and heart that was holding closed a dark well ready to burst open with the rush of emotions boarded up behind its cap.”

And the one mistake I really, really can’t deal with:

“The gator’s mouth might as well of been a flimsy stick…”

This book would have needed a couple more rounds of editing.

Conclusion: I skimmed, I unfortunately got bored, I didn’t really get a sense of a plot, and the writing style irked me in no time.

Yzabel / August 6, 2014

Review: Pinocchio, Vampire Slayer

Pinocchio, Vampire Slayer Complete EditionPinocchio, Vampire Slayer Complete Edition by Van Jensen

My rating: [rating=3]

Summary:

This puppet may not be a real boy… but he just might be a real hero! When bloodthirsty monsters invade Pinocchio’s hometown and kill his father, Geppetto, Pinocchio discovers a new benefit to his magical nose: telling lies produces a never-ending supply of wooden stakes to combat the vampire hordes! Will Pinocchio be able to defeat these horrors, avenge his father, and save his friends? Now, for the first time, the complete trilogy is collected together in a single deluxe softcover edition. Jensen (Green Lantern Corps) and Higgins (Knights of the Living Dead) present a captivating blend of comedy, horror, romance, and adventure, rooted in the original Italian novel, but brought – as if by magic – to new life.

Review:

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

As honest a review as possible, since it was a preview that contained about half the graphic novel, and I have no idea how it’s supposed to end.

I quite liked it. Its premise felt somewhat weird, but all things considered, it was actually fairly logical: killing vampires with wooden stakes… Well, here’s a puppet with an endless supply, for as long as he can tell lies, and lies are easy to come by. So why not?

The drawing style isn’t a favourite of mine, but it was dark, sharp and raw, and in my opinion, this fit with the mood of the comics. The plot’s rooted in the original tale, with characters out of it and somewhat changed (the cricket’s a ghost, the fairy’s kind of dying, Master Cherry creates weird weapons…) and events that clearly aren’t the nice ones a lot of us got used to when reading more childish retellings (or watching the Disney version). Pinocchio became a vampire hunter after Geppetto was killed by such a monster, and while this places the story’s theme in the traditional revenge-type category, it worked for me. It also deals with related themes such as the matters of letting go, of trying to find a balance, a new life, and how those things aren’t so easy to achieve. Also, being human might not be such a boon after all.

The story had several twists and turns, and possibly some more in the part I didn’t get to read. I won’t place buying the complete volume on my priority list, but I’ll possibly do that at some point or other, if only to see where the characters will go from there (the excerpt ends on quite a cliffhanger).

Yzabel / July 29, 2014

Review: Horrorstör

HorrorstörHorrorstör by Grady Hendrix

My rating: [rating=3]

Summary:

Something strange is happening at the Orsk furniture superstore in Columbus, Ohio. Every morning, employees arrive to find broken Kjerring wardrobes, shattered Brooka glassware, and vandalized Liripip sofa beds clearly, someone or something is up to no good.

To unravel the mystery, five young employees volunteer for a long dusk-till-dawn shift—and they encounter horrors that defy imagination. Along the way, author Grady Hendrix infuses sly social commentary on the nature of work in the new twenty-firstcentury economy.

A traditional haunted house story in a contemporary setting (and full of current fears), Horrorstör comes conveniently packaged in the form of a retail catalog, complete with illustrations of ready-to-assemble furniture and other, more sinister accessories. We promise you’ve never seen anything quite like it!

Review:

(I got an ARC through Edelweiss, in exchange for an honest review.)

3.5 stars. An interesting enough blend, in my opinion, of an IKEA/retail parody coupled with horror/ghost stories elements, though after a while, I wished said blend had been more balanced (hence my rating: I would have liked this book more if it had been the case, I think).

It plays on several tropes typical of the genre (people isolated in a haunted place, with dangerous things happening as soon as they’re separated, etc.), while also offering tongue-in-cheek criticism of large retail stores practices. One thing I really liked, both as a reader and as a graphic-designer, was that the book itself reads like an IKEA catalogue, complete with square format, furniture illustrations, pseudo-Swedish names. Those schemas also gradually shift from innocent-looking retail items to contraptions and devices that appear in the real horror part, and the change was subtle enough to make me at unease without realising, for a few seconds, what was actually wrong.

The characters weren’t too likeable in the beginning, in a cardboard-cut way, but some of them I started to appreciate after a while, and they displayed growth as well: nobody could get out unchanged from such an experience, after all, and the changes seemed to me both traumatising as well as positive.

Oddly enough, or maybe not, the serious horror part didn’t really cut it for me. It was definitely creepy, with vivid descriptions, and definitely fit what I’d expected from a horror story. In fact, I’m of a mind to dub it “Silent Hill meets IKEA”, in that the places the characters are trapped in aren’t merely frightening: they also toy with their psyches. However, I realised I missed the funnier tone from earlier chapters. The book cover made me expect more satire, and so, in the end, I felt a little disappointed in that regard.

Nevertheless, I’d recommend this story. It was entertaining, had its really scary parts, and its ending provides a conclusion to the night’s events while still leaving room for enough speculation—not a cliffhanger, but reader’s imagination, which is something I always appreciate.

Yzabel / July 21, 2014

Review: We Are All Completely Fine

We Are All Completely FineWe Are All Completely Fine by Daryl Gregory

My rating: [rating=4]

Summary:

Harrison is the Monster Detective, a storybook hero. Now he’s in his mid-thirties and spends most of his time not sleeping.

Stan became a minor celebrity after being partially eaten by cannibals. Barbara is haunted by the messages carved upon her bones. Greta may or may not be a mass-murdering arsonist. And for some reason, Martin never takes off his sunglasses.

Unsurprisingly, no one believes their horrific tales until they are sought out by psychotherapist Dr. Jan Sayer. What happens when these likely-insane outcasts join a support group? Together they must discover which monsters they face are within and which are lurking in plain sight.

Review:

(I got an ARC of this book through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

This was an intriguing and gripping novella, tackling a question that is probably seldom asked: what of the somewhat normal people in paranormal/supernatural stories, the ones who aren’t the powerful mage detective or powerful vampire or whatever, yet have also dealt with their share of anything-but-normal situations? What of those people’s psyche, can they ever go back to a semblance of normalcy, and how? In an attempt to reclaim their selves, five people gather around Dr. Jan Sayer to talk through their problems, some more reluctantly than others, gradually revealing what exactly happened to them, and how it left them scarred. Because no matter what befell them, whether true monsters or human cannibals or other deranged kinds of minds, it was just the right amount of too bizarre for them to find solace in traditional therapy, which basically ended up in a bunch of souls suffering without ever being able to truly express how… until the group started meeting, that is.

The world building rests on a lot of common themes, some well-known (Lovecraftian mythos—the town of Dunnmouth being obviously reminiscent of Innsmouth), some vague enough that they could be placed basically in any series, and all morbidly fascinating in their own ways. The family of human cannibals that fed off Stan’s and his friends’ bodies, for instance, is pretty close to typical stories of that kind (like the Sawney Bean clan). The Scrimshander could be a regular psychopath touched with a bit of sight… or something else altogether. Greta’s fiery little problem could be interpreted as a variety of spirits. As a result, I felt it allowed the story to fit a lot of potential settings, and gain a kind of legitimacy.

Though overall, I liked it a lot, I remain slightly frustrated. I wanted this book to be longer. I loved its premise, but I felt that it sometimes came short, and wasn’t exploited enough (especially when the doctor was concerned). The ending, too, left me somewhat dissatisfied, in that it seemed to leave the characters too close to where they started. In part, its outcome fits the bleak theme of the book as a whole, yet I couldn’t help but wonder if it went “far enough”.

A note about the style, quite atypical: a blend of first person plural (highlighting the sense of a collective, of a group) and third person. I thought it worked, but it could just as well detract from one’s enjoyment of the story. Be warned.

Nevertheless, I’d still recommend this novel no matter what.

Yzabel / July 21, 2014

Review: How To Date Dead Guys

How To Date Dead Guys - Blog Tour

 

 

 

 

How To Date Dead GuysHow To Date Dead Guys by Ann M. Noser

My rating: [rating=3]

Summary:

College sophomore Emma Roberts remembers her mother’s sage advice: “don’t sleep around, don’t burp in public, and don’t tell anyone you see ghosts”. But when cute Mike Carlson drowns in the campus river under her watch, Emma’s sheltered life shatters.

Blamed for Mike’s death and haunted by nightmares, Emma turns to witchcraft and a mysterious Book of Shadows to bring him back. Under a Blood Moon, she lights candles, draws a pentacle on the campus bridge, and casts a spell. The invoked river rages up against her, but she escapes its fury. As she stumbles back to the dorm, a stranger drags himself from the water and follows her home. And he isn’t the only one…

Instead of raising Mike, Emma assists the others she stole back from the dead—a pre-med student who jumped off the bridge, a young man determined to solve his own murder, and a frat boy Emma can’t stand…at first. More comfortable with the dead than the living, Emma delves deeper into the seductive Book of Shadows. Her powers grow, but witchcraft may not be enough to protect her against the vengeful river and the killers that feed it their victims.

Inspired by the controversial Smiley Face Murders, HOW TO DATE DEAD GUYS will appeal to the secret powers hidden deep within each of us.

Review:

(I received a copy of this book from the publisher, Curiosity Quills, in exchange for an honest review, as part of the related blog tour. Thanks a lot for allowing me to take part in it.)

How To Date Dead Guys was a nice read, light enough and even funny in parts, while also more serious in others. The problems Emma ran into, trying to cover up for the several guys she accidentally brought back from the dead, sometimes made me smile. At the same time, the novel also provided interesting (if typical) questions about “what would you do if you had a second chance at coming to terms with something you couldn’t finish before your death?” Every single one of the drowned men left something behind them, something unfinished, whether it concerned themselves, a relative, or a lover; and those stories were all touching in their own ways. I couldn’t help but agree with them, with their choices to “make it right” or at least try to see what had become of their loved ones.

Emma as a protagonist was fine enough: painfully shy at first, but gaining confidence as she grew into her powers and was also forced to come up with lies to hide what she had done—this with a hint of being tempted in the future by this same power she’s acquired. It’s not the main focus of this first installment in the series, but I wouldn’t be so quick to dismiss her desire to keep the Book of Shadows even though it put her in this mess for starters. (First one guy, then another, then three, and all with their own issues? Definitely a mess.) I also liked Jake a lot: infuriating at first, and seemingly a jerk, but one with a heart of gold, who opened Emma’s eyes on more than one thing. He wasn’t even so much a jerk, in fact, than a sociable guy who enjoyed life and took it as it came to get the best out of it, even in death. The outcome of his own predicament was a bit predictable, but cute nonetheless.

And I guess the cuteness factor is one of the things that made me like this book (that, and necromancy—let’s face it, it is necromancy, and I’m always partial to such magic). Even though the novel sometimes bordered on the “too cute”, it was enjoyable. Sure, it might seem cheesy, and yet I just want to say: “So what?” Sometimes we need twee plots and characters. Sometimes we need twee plots and characters. Sometimes I like myself such a book, and considering I had a hard time putting it down for long, I’d say it quite reached its goal.

It’s also light on the romance: there are several men involved, so it stands to logics that Emma wouldn’t get into a relationship with all of them. She’s not immune to their different personalities, their qualities, their quirks, but she manages to remember that nothing can come out of this (them being obviously doomed to become dead again at some point), and in my opinion, such budding relationships, condemned from the beginning, actually helped her grow as a person, going from fickle, almost teenager-like “first attraction” feelings to a deeper understanding of life and love.

On the other hand, I found a couple of things too exaggerated (everyone blaming Emma for Mike’s death was like kicking the proverbial puppy, and Chrissy seemed just so terribly superficial and “me, me, me” that she became tiring—good thing she doesn’t appear much). Moreover, I found the plotline a little too over the place, in that it wove the stories of all those guys, along with Emma’s, Abby’s, Walker’s, and a few others, but didn’t seem to have a really definite plot. The part about the murders came a little too late to my liking, and almost felt like a kind of afterthought, as if the novel suddenly had to be more serious than it had been up until now. There are some hints here and there, but the characters just don’t seem that bothered about them, except perhaps for two (who don’t voice out their suspicions, though, so they’re only proved right later).

I’m giving it 3/3.5 stars “only” because of that, but I’ll still recommend it if you’re looking for a light read that is sometimes fun, sometimes mellow, and sometimes sad.

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