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The Killer's Christmas List by Chris Frost
What’s The Killer’s Christmas List About?
He’s So Good at This…
This is a minor thing, but Frost is so good at this (like McDonald, see A Wash of Black)—I can think of other examples, too, but few are as smooth as Frost/McDonald is. Stonem is really introduced to us as he arrives on the crime scene as his first day on the job in this station. So we get a blend of our introduction to him, the other officers, and the crime all at once.
The skeleton of the series is established, the kind of detective Stonem is, the identities and character of those he works with, and the kind of crimes we’re going to be seeing—both for the rest of this series and the rest of this novel. It’s so economical, so organic, and efficient that I can’t help but admire it. You start off with the whole world for DI Tom Stonem delivered in a chapter or two, rather than getting it in dribs and drabs like most people do. I have no problem with that approach—but when you see it done like this, it just seems so right.
The Flashbacks
We get regular flashbacks to someone’s childhood throughout the book—it’s a child who doesn’t have a lot in life, and a couple of parents who need financial help, and probably addiction treatment (and a lot more, too). It’s clearly connected to the killings the book focuses on. But, of course, just how it is connected is held back.
As a story-telling tool, I typically don’t like this approach.* It just seems mawkish, usually ungraceful, and I really dislike the way it’s generally used to give us insight into a killer (or someone associated with the crime) without identifiying the person, it just grates on me like nails on a chalkboard**. However, the way that Frost used it ended up really working for me, and was some of the more effective writing in the novel. Good on him.
* I say that, but I probably get sucked in regularly. But at least I don’t think I like this approach.
** Readers of a certain age should ask their parents. And maybe suggest an updated comparison for me to use.
Spoilerish thought, maybe skip this paragraph: This did not go the way that Frost seemed to be telegraphing—it may be that he had a better idea partway through and changed things, but it was probably (and it makes him seem cleverer) that he faked the reader out. A couple of times in the case of this reader. I’m so glad that he did—not just because I enjoy it when an author fakes me out without cheating, but because the way it ended up works so much better than where I thought he was going.
Just how Christmas-y is This?
Not very. Christmas plays a role in motive, and the thing is set in the days leading up to December 25th. But there’s not a very holiday feel to this. Some Christmas mysteries (even involving murder, kidnappings, serial killers, and other acts of violence) still give you a Christmas cheer vibe or something like that. There’s so little of that here as to make it negligible. The holiday is important to the plot, but not to the “vibe,” for lack of a better word.
Basically, read this one whenever you get around to it. You don’t need to sip on egg nog with Andy Williams playing in the background to appreciate it.
So, what did I think about The Killer’s Christmas List?
This is not Frost at his best, I’m sorry to say. Something about the prose felt clunky and occasionally overwritten—maybe Frost and his editor got in some strange groove and didn’t read as critically as they could’ve in the last passes. Was anything so bad that it took me out of the book? No. I winced a little and moved on. But it’s kind of a shame. Also…there were a couple of lines of investigation I just can’t imagine an experienced detective (or one who’s watched more than 3 episodes of Law & Order) didn’t take from the get-go. It didn’t hurt Stonem or his team, it just felt weird not to at least have them mentioned. And I grumbled about it to the book, which thankfully didn’t reply.
But whatever.
The plot though? Really good. Frost’s storytelling makes up for my quibbles—the way he develops the story, the momentum he gathers, and the twists were really nicely done. I’d sussed out the killer ahead of time (but I couldn’t have been wronger about motive)—and Frost convinced me I was wrong until he got to the reveal.
I liked Tom Stonem—he’s not as instantly compelling as Erkia Piper was, but it didn’t take too long for me to appreciate him, and I think in future books, I’ll end up liking him as much as, if not more, as Piper. And I’m really curious about where Frost intends to take him. Some of the rest of the team will be fun to hang out with, too. They’re not the typical detective team that I meet in British Police Procedurals (which frequently feel interchangeable between series).
The Killer’s Christmas List was a solid and quick read that was pretty satisfying. I’m looking forward to more of these.
dark
mysterious
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.0
This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader.
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A Quick Note
For reasons he’s probably detailed somewhere (and I likely read/heard and forgotten), Chris McDonald wrote this under the pen name Chris Frost (and who knows, McDonald might be a pen name, too). But as he’s not being covert about it (his Twitter account uses both names), I’m going to talk about them as if they’re the same person, because McDonald’s work informs the way I reacted to this.
What’s The Killer’s Christmas List About?
Previous drafts of this have been over-complicated as I explain too much and yet try to be spoiler-free, or they’ve been so bland as to be useless (“A new DI is assigned to a holiday-themed murder. Detecting ensues.”). So I’m going with the crutch of the Publisher’s description of this “anti-cosy Christmas” mystery:
In the picturesque village of Kibblesworth, DI Tom Stonem is dreaming of a quiet Christmas alone.
But in the shadow of the Angel of the North, a body lies waiting. The dead man is posed with a child’s Christmas list in his pocket, and the first mysterious item – 1. No angel – is crossed off.
When a second body is found – a woman, stabbed in the abdomen after her work Christmas do – Stonem is convinced there’s a grim connection between the crime scenes and the seemingly innocent list. 2. Red partee dress. Could this be a murderer’s twisted code?
As a blizzard rages in the Tyne & Wear countryside, the body count is snowballing. Can Stonem stop the killer before they get everyone on their Christmas list?
He’s So Good at This…
This is a minor thing, but Frost is so good at this (like McDonald, see A Wash of Black)—I can think of other examples, too, but few are as smooth as Frost/McDonald is. Stonem is really introduced to us as he arrives on the crime scene as his first day on the job in this station. So we get a blend of our introduction to him, the other officers, and the crime all at once.
The skeleton of the series is established, the kind of detective Stonem is, the identities and character of those he works with, and the kind of crimes we’re going to be seeing—both for the rest of this series and the rest of this novel. It’s so economical, so organic, and efficient that I can’t help but admire it. You start off with the whole world for DI Tom Stonem delivered in a chapter or two, rather than getting it in dribs and drabs like most people do. I have no problem with that approach—but when you see it done like this, it just seems so right.
The Flashbacks
We get regular flashbacks to someone’s childhood throughout the book—it’s a child who doesn’t have a lot in life, and a couple of parents who need financial help, and probably addiction treatment (and a lot more, too). It’s clearly connected to the killings the book focuses on. But, of course, just how it is connected is held back.
As a story-telling tool, I typically don’t like this approach.* It just seems mawkish, usually ungraceful, and I really dislike the way it’s generally used to give us insight into a killer (or someone associated with the crime) without identifiying the person, it just grates on me like nails on a chalkboard**. However, the way that Frost used it ended up really working for me, and was some of the more effective writing in the novel. Good on him.
* I say that, but I probably get sucked in regularly. But at least I don’t think I like this approach.
** Readers of a certain age should ask their parents. And maybe suggest an updated comparison for me to use.
Spoilerish thought, maybe skip this paragraph: This did not go the way that Frost seemed to be telegraphing—it may be that he had a better idea partway through and changed things, but it was probably (and it makes him seem cleverer) that he faked the reader out. A couple of times in the case of this reader. I’m so glad that he did—not just because I enjoy it when an author fakes me out without cheating, but because the way it ended up works so much better than where I thought he was going.
Just how Christmas-y is This?
Not very. Christmas plays a role in motive, and the thing is set in the days leading up to December 25th. But there’s not a very holiday feel to this. Some Christmas mysteries (even involving murder, kidnappings, serial killers, and other acts of violence) still give you a Christmas cheer vibe or something like that. There’s so little of that here as to make it negligible. The holiday is important to the plot, but not to the “vibe,” for lack of a better word.
Basically, read this one whenever you get around to it. You don’t need to sip on egg nog with Andy Williams playing in the background to appreciate it.
So, what did I think about The Killer’s Christmas List?
This is not Frost at his best, I’m sorry to say. Something about the prose felt clunky and occasionally overwritten—maybe Frost and his editor got in some strange groove and didn’t read as critically as they could’ve in the last passes. Was anything so bad that it took me out of the book? No. I winced a little and moved on. But it’s kind of a shame. Also…there were a couple of lines of investigation I just can’t imagine an experienced detective (or one who’s watched more than 3 episodes of Law & Order) didn’t take from the get-go. It didn’t hurt Stonem or his team, it just felt weird not to at least have them mentioned. And I grumbled about it to the book, which thankfully didn’t reply.
But whatever.
The plot though? Really good. Frost’s storytelling makes up for my quibbles—the way he develops the story, the momentum he gathers, and the twists were really nicely done. I’d sussed out the killer ahead of time (but I couldn’t have been wronger about motive)—and Frost convinced me I was wrong until he got to the reveal.
I liked Tom Stonem—he’s not as instantly compelling as Erkia Piper was, but it didn’t take too long for me to appreciate him, and I think in future books, I’ll end up liking him as much as, if not more, as Piper. And I’m really curious about where Frost intends to take him. Some of the rest of the team will be fun to hang out with, too. They’re not the typical detective team that I meet in British Police Procedurals (which frequently feel interchangeable between series).
The Killer’s Christmas List was a solid and quick read that was pretty satisfying. I’m looking forward to more of these.
Letters from Father Christmas by J.R.R. Tolkien
In addition to well-wishes, responses to the letters received from the children, and assurances of gifts coming the letters contain updates on life at the North Pole. Sometimes these updates are comical (usually involving the accident-prone PB), sometimes they talk about battles with goblins, or troubles with shipping and tracking addresses. Invariably, there will also be some sort of illustration to accompany the story.
This edition contains full-color reproductions of the letters and drawings in addition to typed versions (in varying typefaces so you can identify who is writing the letter).
The Art
The Tolkien Estate’s website has several samples from this book to take a gander at. My favorites aren’t here, so, you’re going to have to track down copy yourself to see the best. But the samples are representative.
A Personal Observation
So, what did I think about Letters from Father Christmas?
I enjoyed his stories about the battles and troubles he’d had that year. I wasn’t always into the Polar Bear mishaps, it seemed like picking on him to me. But I can see where kids would have fun with it.
One of the best parts for me was the way that Father Christmas talked to Priscilla about the difficulties in England in the 1940s—honestly (and age-appropriate) but filled with hope.
I can easily see this becoming a tradition to read with the Grandcritter and any siblings/cousins that might pop up. I also would enjoy revisiting this collection myself, I should add. I can also see better parents than me using this as inspiration for their own traditions.
If you haven’t tried this yet, I recommend it—for Tolkien fans or Santa/Father Christmas alike.
adventurous
emotional
lighthearted
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader.
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What’s Letters from Father Christmas About?
From 1920-1943 JRR Tolkien wrote letters to his children from Father Christmas—generally multiple letters per year. These were (generally) not quick little notes, but were letters that could take multiple pages. Tolkien wrote these in an ornate penmanship where Father Christmas talks about their letters to him, and tells stories about life at the North Pole. Part of his stories—and a frequent contributor to these letters was Polar Bear (with his own penmanship, and idiosyncratic spelling), and Ilbereth the Elf joins later and his handwriting might as well be one of those fancy typefaces people use for overpriced wedding invitations.
In addition to well-wishes, responses to the letters received from the children, and assurances of gifts coming the letters contain updates on life at the North Pole. Sometimes these updates are comical (usually involving the accident-prone PB), sometimes they talk about battles with goblins, or troubles with shipping and tracking addresses. Invariably, there will also be some sort of illustration to accompany the story.
This edition contains full-color reproductions of the letters and drawings in addition to typed versions (in varying typefaces so you can identify who is writing the letter).
The Art
I’m so glad this edition has full-color reproductions of the illustrations—the letters, too, which almost count as art. On the whole, it’s very similar to Pictures by J.R.R. Tolkien stylistically, which is is be expected. I bet his kids were thrilled to get this kind of thing from Father Christmas every year.
The Tolkien Estate’s website has several samples from this book to take a gander at. My favorites aren’t here, so, you’re going to have to track down copy yourself to see the best. But the samples are representative.
A Personal Observation
I was—and am—such a lazy and unimaginative father. Seriously—multiple letters, ornately illustrated, written in 1-3 distinctive handwriting, every year? I never came near that—not a bit. Never mind the content, full of imagination and whimsy—just the dedicated work that went into these letters.
Tolkien was something else…
So, what did I think about Letters from Father Christmas?
I loved this depiction of Santa—he’s more in the mold of the Kurt Russel/Dresden Files/Viking-ish Santa than the Clement Moore, Miracle on 34th Street, Rankin-Bass mold. Which fits with Tolkien’s interests, as I understand them. But in addition to being a Warrior Santa, he’s focused on his mission of spreading joy and presents—and is always expressing his affection for the children he’s writing to.
I enjoyed his stories about the battles and troubles he’d had that year. I wasn’t always into the Polar Bear mishaps, it seemed like picking on him to me. But I can see where kids would have fun with it.
One of the best parts for me was the way that Father Christmas talked to Priscilla about the difficulties in England in the 1940s—honestly (and age-appropriate) but filled with hope.
I can easily see this becoming a tradition to read with the Grandcritter and any siblings/cousins that might pop up. I also would enjoy revisiting this collection myself, I should add. I can also see better parents than me using this as inspiration for their own traditions.
If you haven’t tried this yet, I recommend it—for Tolkien fans or Santa/Father Christmas alike.
An Instruction in Shadow by Benedict Jacka
And it doesn’t take long for things to start going wrong—but nothing disastrous.
The best way to summarize this book is to say that: everything from the last book continues along the same trajectory, but gets harder. This means nothing if you haven’t read that book, but you really should (at the very least, go check out my post about it). Among the ways that happens—a cult (or cult-like group) tries to recruit him, an assassin makes an (almost successful) attempt on his life, he gets suspended from work, and he runs afoul of a group of Russian criminals.
Worst of all, Stephen gets in deeper with his mother’s family.
The World and Its Magic System
What we get more of-—and it’s just the tip of the iceberg, I’m sure–is insight into the families and companies that run the sigl economy and Well markets. If there are ethics governing them in any way, shape, or form, Stephen hasn’t shown them to us. It’s all about power, manipulation, and things that happen under the table and behind the scenes. It’s both unthinkable that things operate in this fashion in the 21st century—and somehow the part of the book that seems the least fictional or fantastic.
Much of this comes from an info drop or two—but they’re worked into the narrative perfectly. They’re neither disruptive to the overall story nor are they clunky exposition.
So, what did I think about An Instruction in Shadow?
Am I a little worried about the arc that Jacka is suggesting for Stephen? Yes. Am I also almost certain that the arc won’t go the way it looks, and that there’s nothing to worry about? Yes.
I really just want more of it—-I am not certain that I care too much about the whole “where’s Stephen’s dad” part of the overall story, but I’m pretty sure that I don’t need to, because the series has been inevitably moving in that direction since the beginning, and when the time comes, I’ll get invested.
I’m feeling really inarticulate when it comes to this series—and this installment in particular. Everything I said about the first one is still true. We really just got more of what he’d already given, so my position and thoughts are pretty much the same, too.
I did think that despite his struggles and the aforementioned almost successful assassination, things went a little too easy for Stephen this time. I’d have liked a failure or two. Or at least another draw or two. Even when things were at their hardest for him in this book, he found a way to turn the oncoming defeat into a victory. I typically really appreciate that kind of thing (obviously), but I had very little doubt each time that Stephen was going to come out on top. I just want a little more suspense and doubt on that front. But this wasn’t a major distraction or detraction—it’d just be good for Stephen’s life to be seen as difficult as he sees it.
Also, one of the better parts of An Inheritance of Magic was watching the trial and error Stephen went through—it was very effective in terms of character development and showing us the way sigls work. Give me more of that and I’m happy.
Again—I thoroughly enjoyed this book and am eager to read more. I just wanted it to be a teeny bit better.
adventurous
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0
This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader.
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What’s An Instruction in Shadow About?
This picks up mere hours after An Inheritance of Magic, and Stephen is feeling pretty good about himself. His job is going okay, he’s continuing to improve in his magic, he’s got a good lead when it comes to his father’s location—sure, things with his mother weren’t quite what he’d hoped for. But she left the door open to further communication.
And it doesn’t take long for things to start going wrong—but nothing disastrous.
The best way to summarize this book is to say that: everything from the last book continues along the same trajectory, but gets harder. This means nothing if you haven’t read that book, but you really should (at the very least, go check out my post about it). Among the ways that happens—a cult (or cult-like group) tries to recruit him, an assassin makes an (almost successful) attempt on his life, he gets suspended from work, and he runs afoul of a group of Russian criminals.
Worst of all, Stephen gets in deeper with his mother’s family.
The World and Its Magic System
We don’t learn much more about sigl work or Wells—we see more examples of what we’ve already seen at work, but that’s about it. Alright, we get to see what medical sigls can do, so that’s new.
What we get more of-—and it’s just the tip of the iceberg, I’m sure–is insight into the families and companies that run the sigl economy and Well markets. If there are ethics governing them in any way, shape, or form, Stephen hasn’t shown them to us. It’s all about power, manipulation, and things that happen under the table and behind the scenes. It’s both unthinkable that things operate in this fashion in the 21st century—and somehow the part of the book that seems the least fictional or fantastic.
Much of this comes from an info drop or two—but they’re worked into the narrative perfectly. They’re neither disruptive to the overall story nor are they clunky exposition.
So, what did I think about An Instruction in Shadow?
Let me start with this: I would happily read books 3 and 4 in this series in the next couple of months, and still be eager for more. The more we see about this world—and the more questions we have raise, the more I want to learn and see.
Am I a little worried about the arc that Jacka is suggesting for Stephen? Yes. Am I also almost certain that the arc won’t go the way it looks, and that there’s nothing to worry about? Yes.
I really just want more of it—-I am not certain that I care too much about the whole “where’s Stephen’s dad” part of the overall story, but I’m pretty sure that I don’t need to, because the series has been inevitably moving in that direction since the beginning, and when the time comes, I’ll get invested.
But Jacka has got me sitting on the edge of my seat when it comes to everything else. I want to see more of how this economy works—on the legitimate side, the illegitimate side, and then the murky overlap. I want to understand how Stephen is going to operate and keep his head above water in it. He’s not just a MacGuffin, but he kind of feels that way right now.
I’m feeling really inarticulate when it comes to this series—and this installment in particular. Everything I said about the first one is still true. We really just got more of what he’d already given, so my position and thoughts are pretty much the same, too.
I did think that despite his struggles and the aforementioned almost successful assassination, things went a little too easy for Stephen this time. I’d have liked a failure or two. Or at least another draw or two. Even when things were at their hardest for him in this book, he found a way to turn the oncoming defeat into a victory. I typically really appreciate that kind of thing (obviously), but I had very little doubt each time that Stephen was going to come out on top. I just want a little more suspense and doubt on that front. But this wasn’t a major distraction or detraction—it’d just be good for Stephen’s life to be seen as difficult as he sees it.
Also, one of the better parts of An Inheritance of Magic was watching the trial and error Stephen went through—it was very effective in terms of character development and showing us the way sigls work. Give me more of that and I’m happy.
Again—I thoroughly enjoyed this book and am eager to read more. I just wanted it to be a teeny bit better.
If you’re into inventive UF, there’s no better time than now to jump on this series—I think you’ll be as invested in getting more as I am.
What Were You Expecting?: First Words for New Parents by Cameron Spires
Or (my personal favorite),
While Cho’s art will keep the little one’s attention.
Really, the cover image tells you all that you really need to know—both in terms of art, content, and tone.
SFW/SFB
Unlike the children’s books for adults by Adam Mansbach and Ricardo Cortés (like Go the F**k to Sleep and You Have to F***ing Eat), these are completely Safe for Work, or Safe for a Baby. The text is clean enough to eat off of, but barbed enough that you might not want to.
it’s also not all snark. There’s a very sweet ending that every parent will be able to identify with.
So, what did I think about What Were You Expecting??
I just liked the concept and had to buy a copy for my son and daughter-in-law when the Grandcritter showed up. Reading it before I gave it to them solidified that feeling. I think they appreciated it.
They liked it enough that the Grandcritter asks for it repeatedly at bedtime—so he must’ve been exposed to it plenty and now is returning the favor.
Cho’s art is exactly what you want in a board book. It’s eye-catching, vibrant, and energetic—while simple enough that it doesn’t overwhelm anyone.
Pick yourself up a copy—or go check out the sample on the publisher’s site—fill up your sippy cup with “Momma’s and Daddy’s Special Grape Juice” and have a couple minutes of fun.
funny
lighthearted
fast-paced
3.5
This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader.
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What’s What Were You Expecting? About?
This is not really a board book parody, it’s more like a book for grown-ups disguised as a kid’s book. Specifically, it’s a board book for a parent in the first year or so of parenting—something they can use to commiserate with, something to help them know they’re not alone. At the same time, it’s something they can read to their child in order to feel like a good parent—because, hey, reading!
The art supports this—and really, for kids in the first two years (at least), the pictures are what they care about. The words are totally unimportant.
So, Spires can write lines like,
This is an owl. Like you, it thinks day is night and night is day. Its brain is very small.
Or (my personal favorite),
This is a house. It’s a lot like the one we had to remortgage to pay for your daycare.
Just Kidding. We can’t find a daycare.
While Cho’s art will keep the little one’s attention.
Really, the cover image tells you all that you really need to know—both in terms of art, content, and tone.
SFW/SFB
Unlike the children’s books for adults by Adam Mansbach and Ricardo Cortés (like Go the F**k to Sleep and You Have to F***ing Eat), these are completely Safe for Work, or Safe for a Baby. The text is clean enough to eat off of, but barbed enough that you might not want to.
it’s also not all snark. There’s a very sweet ending that every parent will be able to identify with.
So, what did I think about What Were You Expecting??
I just liked the concept and had to buy a copy for my son and daughter-in-law when the Grandcritter showed up. Reading it before I gave it to them solidified that feeling. I think they appreciated it.
They liked it enough that the Grandcritter asks for it repeatedly at bedtime—so he must’ve been exposed to it plenty and now is returning the favor.
Cho’s art is exactly what you want in a board book. It’s eye-catching, vibrant, and energetic—while simple enough that it doesn’t overwhelm anyone.
Pick yourself up a copy—or go check out the sample on the publisher’s site—fill up your sippy cup with “Momma’s and Daddy’s Special Grape Juice” and have a couple minutes of fun.
The Real Festivus: The True Story Behind America's Favorite Made-Up Holiday by Daniel O'Keefe
Why is there a need for this book? Well, O’Keefe addresses that right off the bat with his opening words:
*Hard not to take that personally…
He starts with the need for Festivus (a quick critique of some of the major holidays); then moves into the name and what it could mean; its origin; common misconceptions about the holiday (i.e., the Seinfeld episode); and some of the details about the holiday: the floating date, the poems, music, dinner, and gifts; he then details some particular commemorations of the day; and then spends a few paragraphs detailing what the reader needs to pull off an “authentic” Festivus celebration to wrap it up.
So, what did I think about The Real Festivus?
This is not at all what I expected. Sure, I knew the TV version didn’t match up with the O’Keefe family version exactly. But just how little overlap there was (basically: the name) astounded me.
Once you get past the kvetching about the TV Show’s version of Festivus (which seems a little heavy-handed, I have to say, but I think he was going for funny), what this book really is becomes clear. It’s a memoir about an eccentric family’s equally eccentric ritual. Every family has them—the O’Keefes were just nice enough to record them and have one son who achieved enough notoriety to get a publisher to pay for these memories (and the skill to deliver them).
It’s an amusing book infused with a particular kind of sweetness. I don’t know that it’s the kind of thing that will change my Festivus celebrations in the future (I really like the pole), but it’s a rewarding read.
informative
lighthearted
fast-paced
3.0
What’s The Real Festivus About?
It’s right there in the subtitle, isn’t it? It’s “The True Story Behind America’s Favorite Made-up Holiday.”
In this book you will learn, should you choose, how to celebrate Festivus according to the true and ancient traditions that have guided it since its birth back in the mists of the 1960s. But be warned: the secrets of this book can be dangerous. Do not read it while driving a car; that would be a bad idea. Do not use it to hold down important papers on a desk; it is flimsy and your papers may blow away. If you handle it carelessly, you may sustain paper cuts that are not only painful, but may attract sharks while swimming at the beach. Also, the way things are going in this country, reading books might soon lead to your arrest and a one-way black helicopter ride to some kind of orbital prison, or forced labor on an undersea kelp farm. Depending on the judge you get.
Why is there a need for this book? Well, O’Keefe addresses that right off the bat with his opening words:
So you think the holiday known as Festivus involves a metal pole, do you? Feats of strength? Commercial breaks? WRONG. That’s just the television version. Because a network audience couldn’t possibly have handled the real thing. A family huddled around a table by candle-light one random evening a year, eating and drinking too much, singing in German about a black pig, bitching about people who didn’t like them into a barely functional tape recorder, and displaying obscene, hand-scrawled signs of a political nature.
But if you go beyond simple belief, if you are one of those lost souls who, captivated by the television portrayal of Festivus, actually celebrates the damn thing… what’s up with that? Don’t get out of the house much, do you? Maybe you should get a pet or a hobby or something.* If you don’t already have forty cats in your studio apartment, which will eat your eyes when you die, alone.
*Hard not to take that personally…
He starts with the need for Festivus (a quick critique of some of the major holidays); then moves into the name and what it could mean; its origin; common misconceptions about the holiday (i.e., the Seinfeld episode); and some of the details about the holiday: the floating date, the poems, music, dinner, and gifts; he then details some particular commemorations of the day; and then spends a few paragraphs detailing what the reader needs to pull off an “authentic” Festivus celebration to wrap it up.
So, what did I think about The Real Festivus?
This is not at all what I expected. Sure, I knew the TV version didn’t match up with the O’Keefe family version exactly. But just how little overlap there was (basically: the name) astounded me.
Once you get past the kvetching about the TV Show’s version of Festivus (which seems a little heavy-handed, I have to say, but I think he was going for funny), what this book really is becomes clear. It’s a memoir about an eccentric family’s equally eccentric ritual. Every family has them—the O’Keefes were just nice enough to record them and have one son who achieved enough notoriety to get a publisher to pay for these memories (and the skill to deliver them).
It’s an amusing book infused with a particular kind of sweetness. I don’t know that it’s the kind of thing that will change my Festivus celebrations in the future (I really like the pole), but it’s a rewarding read.
Sizar by Susan Grossey
mysterious
slow-paced
3.5
This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader.
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What’s Sizar About?
A Cambridge student is found hanged, presumably by his own hand. But Master Vaughan calls on Hardiman to look into the circumstances of the suicide—what was it that drove this promising scholar to do this? It’s not long before another student is found dead—and this time it’s clear that someone killed him. This forces everyone to take another look at the hanging—was it self-harm?
Hardiman finds himself out of his depth again—but his determination and level thinking helps him to get at things that others miss or disregard. Soon, he’s looking into a gambling ring, the darker parts of student culture, and what may be a group of conspirators.
The Mystery
It didn’t take too much time to get a real handle on a motive for this. And not much more (or less) to suss out a really strong suspect. With that out of the way pretty quickly, you can focus on Hardiman and his world. How does he try to piece things together, what kind of evidence gets him moving the right way (and what detours does he take).
You also get to soak in the rest of the novel—the other plotlines, arcs, and characters. Grossey gives us a lot to focus on beyond the mystery in this book—and watching Haridman work through it all—false trails as well as the right moves—is better than trying to guess the solution.
Hardiman’s Personal Life
We get some more of the Book Club and library—and that bookstore owner really proves his worth as a friend. Who needs the Internet, apparently, as long as you have a friend who runs a Cambridge bookstore?
Actually, where the first book was largely focused on Hardiman’s day job as an Ostler as well as his investigation, this book focuses on his friends and other associates (while touching on his work a little, too).
It was great to see him like this—with friends, watching relationships develop, talking to the family of the officer he served with in the war—and so on. This aspect of the novel worked really well, it helped him become more than just a wounded vet with a need to expand his vocabulary. This humanized him and helped round him out. It was a good move, and made me like him more.
So, what did I think about Sizar?
The pacing of this is slow and methodical—a lot of that has to do with the era, they don’t have the need to rush that people at the end of the 20th Century/beginning of the 21st have. Also, communication works slowly across a city, or even further. Also, part of that is the slower pace that most (not all) British mystery novels take to investigations.
I understand it, but it bugged me a little. But that’s a personal failing, nothing wrong with the novel.
Even with the historical helps at the end, a lot of university/law enforcement structure makes me stumble (and I hate to take a break from the narrative to go look up facts), but it doesn’t take me out of the story, it’s just momentary “huh?” I’m getting better at is, thanks to the supplemental material Grossey gives. The evolution that these systems are going through at this point aren’t making things easier for me (or are they? I’m not sure).
The whodunit was a bit disappointing, and the why was pretty obvious—but how Hardiman solved things and resolved things, more than made up for that part. Really the procedural aspects are the bigger draws for most readers anyhow when it comes to procedurals. And none of what I said here addresses Grossey’s use of red herrings and twists, and both of those more than make up for what I might say is obvious or disappointing (and can make you doubt yourself a little bit)
Hardiman is a heckuva protagonist in a very interesting world—this is a unique series and one I heartily suggest you check out.
Tooth and Claw: A Longmire Story by Craig Johnson
adventurous
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.0
This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader.
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What’s Tooth and Claw About?
After his time with the Marines is over, Walt needs to get away from people, society, anything that makes him think of Vietnam and what he witnessed there. He also wants to get away from what he knows–and what fits that description better than Alaska? He takes a job working security on an oil field, replacing someone who’d killed himself.
He also finds himself drinking. A lot. There’s not much to do when he’s not on the job—and you get the impression he can do a lot of it with a little bit of a buzz on.
We encounter Walt in this state as Henry comes up to visit–he’s concerned about what Walt’s doing to himself (as is Walt’s former fiance, Martha). Henry shows up at the end of December, when there are very few hours of daylight each day up by the Arctic Circle.
Henry’s a little bored, truth be told, so when Walt finds the opportunity to take him along on a quick research trip to help keep a scientist safe they go.
The day trip doesn’t go the way they expect (naturally). Instead, the friends find danger, a blizzard, a large polar bear (even by polar bear standards), a ghost ship, and some garden-variety human evil.
So, what did I think about Tooth and Claw?
This quick novella was fine. Walt and Henry against nature—weather and animal—isn’t exactly new territory, but Alaska isn’t what we’re used to seeing from them. It makes Wyoming look crowded. It’s a bit more extreme than we’re used to for them.
Add in a bunch of people we don’t know and a ship out of legend, and you’ve got something even better. There’s a potential supernatural element here–and the story works either way you approach that element.
It’s not a perfect read. The criminal activity seemed a bit perfunctory—and really didn’t add much to the novella, I might have appreciated the novella more without it. I don’t know that Johnson sold Walt’s drinking as being as much of a problem as Henry and a couple of others made it out to be.
But for what it is—a quick thrill-ride and a look at young-Walt, it’s good. There are some entertaining moments, it’s good to see these two in another environment. There’s at least one character I’d like to run into again.
It’s not a must-read for Longmire fans or the best introduction to the characters—but it’ll please longtime fans and should whet the appetites of new readers for the full novels. That’s good enough, right?
Spook Street by Mick Herron
WHAT'S THE BACK COVER OF SPOOK STREET SAY?
THINGS I'M NOT GOING TO DEVELOP INTO PARAGRAPHS
(I just don't have the time or energy)
* Louisa makes a friend! A non-Slough House friend, it should be stressed. Which is great—and will hopefully help her deal with the events of Dead Lions. Sure, I pretty much like everything about Louisa, but this worked really well.
* This: "What happens when an old spook loses his mind? Does the Service have a retirement home for those who know too many secrets but don't remember they're secret?" Yeah, it could be phrased a bit more skillfully, but really—what is done in these situations (I have to assume more and more of these happen all the time)
* This book is really all about the power behind the throne. Sure, all the attention is on the leader (of whatever), but being the guy behind them—almost all of the power, but with almost none of the accountability or scrutiny, you can get a lot done. And you can direct the person at the top with just the right kind of pressure or incentive.
* Yes, the "Slow Horses" are, by design (of both Herron and MI-5) disposable, and impermanent. But some are pretty much irreplaceable, as the poor woman who is brought in to fill Catherine Standish's shoes learns.
* Everything we learned about David Cartwright and his activities seems realistic. It's chilling and troubling in so many ways. He deserves to be called OB. Or just B.
* Back to the impermanent idea. Herron shows us that he's in the same league as authors like George R.R. Martin when it comes to the mortality of characters. I both admire that and am angered by it.
* Roderick Ho...what can I say about him? At the beginning of the book, I couldn't believe what I was reading about him—it was far more hard to believe than any of the outlandish things we've seen Jackson Lamb's team encounter. By the end, it all made sense. And I might have felt pity for the guy (although he makes it hard)
* Herron's prose is so delicious. It's mirthful without actually being funny (and only occasionally jokey). It's so well crafted, it's...I can't put it into words. I just love reading him.
SO, WHAT DID I THINK ABOUT SPOOK STREET?
Once again, I couldn't stop asking myself why I am so behind in reading these? Why do I take breaks of months and months between them? Everything about this series is great.
I'm just happy the whole time I'm reading one of these books—despite the fact that the events are harrowing, the characters are generally despicable, and what the books suggest about humanity and Western security services (UK's in particular, but I can only imagine they function pretty similarly to the rest) doesn't fill one with optimism or confidence.
Spook Street is a solid winner from the horrible incident the book started with to the closing comforting paragraphs and all points in between. Herron planted more seeds than is typical for future installments—and I can't decide which I want to see first (on second thought, I want to see the Roddy Ho stuff come back to haunt him/Slough House as soon as is humanly possible).
If you're not reading these books—at my snail-like pace or at a rational pace—you are missing out.
adventurous
challenging
dark
funny
mysterious
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.5
This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader.
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“You want me to issue a shoot-to-kill order.”
“Well there’s no point shooting to wound. People would only get hurt.”
WHAT'S THE BACK COVER OF SPOOK STREET SAY?
What happens when an old spook loses his mind? Does the Service have a retirement home for those who know too many secrets but don't remember they're secret? Or does someone take care of the senile spy for good? These are the paranoid concerns of David Cartwright, a Cold War-era operative and one-time head of MI5 who is sliding into dementia, and questions his grandson, River, must figure out answers to now that the spy who raised him has started to forget to wear pants.
But River, himself an agent at Slough House, MI5's outpost for disgraced spies, has other things to worry about. A bomb has detonated in the middle of a busy shopping center and killed forty innocent civilians. The "slow horses" of Slough House must figure out who is behind this act of terror before the situation escalates.
THINGS I'M NOT GOING TO DEVELOP INTO PARAGRAPHS
(I just don't have the time or energy)
* Louisa makes a friend! A non-Slough House friend, it should be stressed. Which is great—and will hopefully help her deal with the events of Dead Lions. Sure, I pretty much like everything about Louisa, but this worked really well.
* This: "What happens when an old spook loses his mind? Does the Service have a retirement home for those who know too many secrets but don't remember they're secret?" Yeah, it could be phrased a bit more skillfully, but really—what is done in these situations (I have to assume more and more of these happen all the time)
* This book is really all about the power behind the throne. Sure, all the attention is on the leader (of whatever), but being the guy behind them—almost all of the power, but with almost none of the accountability or scrutiny, you can get a lot done. And you can direct the person at the top with just the right kind of pressure or incentive.
* Yes, the "Slow Horses" are, by design (of both Herron and MI-5) disposable, and impermanent. But some are pretty much irreplaceable, as the poor woman who is brought in to fill Catherine Standish's shoes learns.
* Everything we learned about David Cartwright and his activities seems realistic. It's chilling and troubling in so many ways. He deserves to be called OB. Or just B.
* Back to the impermanent idea. Herron shows us that he's in the same league as authors like George R.R. Martin when it comes to the mortality of characters. I both admire that and am angered by it.
* Roderick Ho...what can I say about him? At the beginning of the book, I couldn't believe what I was reading about him—it was far more hard to believe than any of the outlandish things we've seen Jackson Lamb's team encounter. By the end, it all made sense. And I might have felt pity for the guy (although he makes it hard)
* Herron's prose is so delicious. It's mirthful without actually being funny (and only occasionally jokey). It's so well crafted, it's...I can't put it into words. I just love reading him.
They were south of the river, half a mile from the Thames, near one of those busy junctions which rely on the self-preservation instincts of the drivers using it; ether a shining example of new-age civic theory, or an old-fashioned failure of town planning. On one of its corners sat a church; on another, earth-moving monsters re-enacted the Battle of the Bulge behind hoardings which shivered with each impact. A tube station squatted on a third, its familiar brick-and-tile facade more than usually grubby in the drizzle. There was a lot of construction work nearby, buildings wrapped in plastic sheeting, some of it gaudily muralled with visions of a bright new future: the gleaming glass, the pristine paving, the straight white lines of premises yet-to-be. Meanwhile, the surviving shops were the usual array of bookmakers, convenience stores and coffee bars, many of them crouching behind scaffolding, and some of them book-ending alleyways which would be either dead-ends where wheelie-bins congregated, or short-cuts to the labyrinth of darker streets beyond. Once upon a time Charles Dickens wandered this area, doubtless taking notes. Nowadays the local citizenry’s stories were recorded by closed-circuit TV, which had less time for sentimental endings.
SO, WHAT DID I THINK ABOUT SPOOK STREET?
Once again, I couldn't stop asking myself why I am so behind in reading these? Why do I take breaks of months and months between them? Everything about this series is great.
I'm just happy the whole time I'm reading one of these books—despite the fact that the events are harrowing, the characters are generally despicable, and what the books suggest about humanity and Western security services (UK's in particular, but I can only imagine they function pretty similarly to the rest) doesn't fill one with optimism or confidence.
Spook Street is a solid winner from the horrible incident the book started with to the closing comforting paragraphs and all points in between. Herron planted more seeds than is typical for future installments—and I can't decide which I want to see first (on second thought, I want to see the Roddy Ho stuff come back to haunt him/Slough House as soon as is humanly possible).
If you're not reading these books—at my snail-like pace or at a rational pace—you are missing out.
Enough Rope by Dorothy Parker
emotional
funny
hopeful
reflective
3.5
What’s Enough Rope?
It’s Dorothy Parker’s debut collection of poems, I think ninety of them–but I ran out of fingers and toes and had to make a guess.
Some are flat out funny, some are sweet (okay, not really that many), some are acidic, some are witty, some are ascerbic, some are lightly self-mocking–some are self-hating. It’s quite the range. Some are just somber and sober, without any species of humor (I think)–but those are few and far between. All show a degree of wit that too many poems I read don’t show (which is why I don’t read many.)
I should just go onto the next section because I guess I’ve slipped into answering:
So, what did I think about Enough Rope?
I enjoyed it. Some of these were just delightful. Some made me think a little. I know that Parker can tend toward dark thinking, but there were one or two that could give Plath a run for her money.
Some of the poems by her that I knew already, like “Résumé” or “One Perfect Rose” were part of this collection and were just as good as it was when I discovered it in High School. “Verse for a Certain Dog” is going to be a favorite of mine for quite a while.
One that I don’t think I’ve read before is called “Finis.” It struck me as something akin to Auden’s “Funeral Blues,” in lamenting a lost love–until the final couplet which turns the whole thing into a jab at the man.
Overall, you get the sense of someone who is a jaded romantic. She understands love–she’s wary of it, knowing the pain it can bring–but she also knows the highs that come with it, and longs for it. And through the highs, lows, bliss, and agony–has kept her sense of humor and a perspective that all things will pass. After all, you might as well live.
It occurs to me (seconds before I hit “publish”), that this is possibly best exemplified in the last poem in the collection:
The Burned Child Love has had his way with me.
This my heart is torn and maimed
Since he took his play with me.
Cruel well the bow-boy aimed,Shot, and saw the feathered shaft
Dripping bright and bitter red.
He that shrugged his wings and laughed—
Better had he left me dead.Sweet, why do you plead me, then,
Who have bled so sore of that?
Could I bear it once again? …
Drop a hat, dear, drop a hat!
Running and Jumping by Steven Kedie
challenging
emotional
reflective
tense
medium-paced
4.0
This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader.
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What’s Running and Jumping About?
For a brief time, Adam Lowe was going to get the bronze in the Long Jump at his first Olympic Games—the 2008 Games in Beijing. But an American, Chris Madison, ends up beating him by 1 centimeter. Leaving Adam with the worst place to be—the guy just off the podium.
This sets Adam and his coach off on a mission—a detailed training schedule to get to the next two Olympic games—starting with the London games. For Adam, representing his country in the capitol is more than a dream come true. It’s his destiny. Or at least that’s what he’s going to make his destiny.
Sacrifice
We frequently think of the sacrifices an elite athlete has to make to get to that level—and sometimes we’ll even think of what their parents give up.
But what about their siblings? Can you imagine what it must be like having a brother who overshadows everything you do in life (as proud as you may be of them)? Well, we get a little idea here.
And the friends—girlfriends, wives, etc.—forget it. How would you feel to have a best man who won’t drink, who goes to sleep early, and who needs to go out of the country to compete the weekend of your stag night? And that’s when he’s even paying attention to you instead of training.
Then there’s Adam’s sacrifices—being that kind of brother, having to prioritize his career over friends, family, love—because if he takes just a little bit too long off, takes that one drink, loses focus for a moment—it can put an entire year’s work at risk, and the domino effect of that could jeopardize your next Olympics.
Obsession
And that gives you an idea of the way that Adam has to obsess over things—over everything it seems.
Now, I read a lot of Crime Fiction—which is filled with detectives (police, or private), or people who act like them, who are driven to find a certain killer—or all killers they come across. And on the other side of the law, you get those who are driven to fulfill some strange goal/mission, checklist of people who’ve wronged them, or something. Basically, Crime Fiction is filled with driven, ambitious, obsessed (or nearly so) characters. Very few of these can hold a candle to Adam Lowe (and some other athletes we meet, and we seemingly are supposed to generalize to every Olympian).
The focus he demands of himself—and the lengths he goes to in order to maintain it—might be more impressive than the physical accomplishments.
So, what did I think about Running and Jumping?
I’ve said it before, I’ll undoubtedly say it again—I’m not a sports guy. But a good sports novel? (or movie/TV show—Go, East Dillon Lions!). I’m totally game for that.
Still, I wouldn’t have figured that long jumping would be a great focus. Sure, you’re competing against others, but it’s not head-to-head. There’s none of the inherent drama of looking someone in the eyes at the beginning of a play, or seeing someone off to the side in your peripheral vision, etc.
But Kedie made the right choice—he is able to get the tension just right, to get you on the edge of your seat. Yes, it’s largely a competition with only yourself on the field (as much as your scores are compared to someone else)—but really, who’s a better opponent than yourself?
I was a little shaky at the beginning, but Kedie got his hook in me. I was there for the personal ups and downs, the athletic highs (and there were several) and the lows (too many to be good for my psyche), the rivalry between Adam and Chris was just intense.
This was really a surprisingly effective, moving, gripping, and entertaining novel. The psychology alone makes this more than worth the time. I don’t know how accurate it is, or how safe it is to generalize from Adam to Olympians in general—but when you read this, you can’t help but believe it is.
Take a chance on this one.