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Kelley Armstrong’s werewolf series is one of my favorite sources of comfort reading that I happily return to with each new release. The relationships are strong and complicated, the violence quick and effective and the politics of who gets along with who and how and why are endlessly fascinating. It’s light romance (the main characters are married with children at this point but they always get a chance for a little quick sex in the midst of solving the weekly crisis), light violence, (there are always bodies along the way although the descriptions are no more graphic than a Bones episode), and plenty of dramarama. I guess the biggest thing is that the pace is fast, the plots dynamic and there is lots of snarling and growling.

I guess basically, they relax my brain and I don’t think that can be overrated.

Driven is due out in January from Subterranean Press and finds out heroes, Elena Michaels (alpha wolf) and husband Clay Danvers (beta wolf) at odds with old enemy Malcolm Danvers (crazy pants werewolf who wants back in the pack) and also faced with what the mysterious murders of some werewolves who nobody liked but didn’t deserve to be strung up and skinned (yuck).

They have to deal with Malcolm, who nobody trusts but would rather have close enough to watch then out roaming around plotting against them, and they have to take to the road in pursuit of the murderers. There’s tracking and almost getting caught and figuring out who are good guys and who are bad and, delightfully, there is catching the bad guys and getting them. (I love those bits.) It’s really the most satisfactory of reading experiences and Elena and Clay are so much fun – they banter with the best of them which is probably 90% of what I love about this series.

(I so wanted the television version to be good but found the chemistry between the two actors to be utterly flat. It’s been renewed again so maybe it’s gotten better.)

If you are a fan of Armstrong’s books you will want the Subterranean titles as they are really lovely and include some fun color illustrations to boot. They are especially grand reading this time of year – at least to me, fall seems particularly made for werewolves!

Leanna Renee Hieber is an author who I find both wildly appealing and sometimes frustrating. I read and enjoyed very much one of her previous series which began with The Strangely Beautiful Tale of Miss Percy Parker. Her gaslamp fantasies excel at world building and have beguiling characters placed in intriguing and challenging situations. Sometimes though, I feel overwhelmed by so many people and so many things going on. It's not that the plots are dense but rather somewhat frenetic. This is not a bad thing but can be exasperating (at least for me). But it doesn't keep me from going back for more from Hieber and so I was quite pleased to dive into her latest book, The Eterna Files.

In the wake of President Lincoln's assassination, Clara Templeton sets in motion events to find the secret to immortality. Flash forward 17 years and the American team pursuing this goal is mysteriously (almost magically) killed. Clara seeks to find out what happened but soon finds herself in a race against the British who are looking for their own answers as their competing team has also been killed.

Hieber splits the narrative primarily between Clara in New York City. and Harold Spire and Rose Everhart in London. Each side with their own trusted Scooby squads, they follow clues and try to find out what happened, all the while suspecting each other of the nefarious deeds. Of course (of course!!) there is more to it than that, but I'm sure Hieber will bring the groups together in the next installment and hopefully they will join forces sooner rather than later.

All the characters are good, especially Clara and Rose, who are smart and talented on their own while also realistically dealing with the gender politics of the day. Everyone else is quirky as all get out which makes sense as Hieber excels at quirky. There's all kinds of paranormal bits going on from mediums and clairvoyants to Voodoo. There are also class differences, a few jerks and some PTSD from lots of childhood trauma. So far, no romance but hints of some to come which would fit well in the layers of this mystery/thriller/drama.

So yeah, The Eterna Files is off to a bang-up start and shows Hieber doing what she does best yet again. I'll be back for the sequel; I just can't manage to stay away.

Capsule reviews on several recent reads for those looking for a recommendation or two:

Young Woman in a Garden by Delia Sherman. This is the first short story collection from this prolific and outstanding fantasy author. Sherman is tough to pin down; her stories (and novels) are sly and wink a bit at expectations. Sometimes the fantasy elements are barely there--a whiff of a ghost story perhaps as in the title story, or suburban witchcraft in "Walpurgis Afternoon". The point is not always even the fantasy, as significant as it might be to the plot, but rather the characters and the setting and, (I love this), the language.

Delia Sherman writes sentences you want to read out loud and that, perhaps more than anything, is why I advise you to read each and everything she ever writes.

Unwept: Book One of the Nightbirds by Tracy & Laura HIckman. The set-up here is straightforward: Ellis is on a train alone with a nurse who is also caring for an infant. Most of her memory is gone and the nurse assures her that she is being sent to stay with family and friends in a small town to recuperate from a long illness. Everything will be better if she rests in Gamin with her cousin Jenny. But then of course, after she arrives, nothing is as it seems.

The tension in Unwept is outstanding and readers will find themselves flinching along with Ellis as she finds herself uncomfortable and alarmed while among the local literary group, "The Nightbirds," who claim to be her dear friends. As she puts things together, and finds more reasons to be afraid, the book shifts into thriller mode. It's set up for a sequel (of course) and I hope the reasons behind all this drama get fleshed out more. But a solid start and a true page-turner.

The Spiritglass Charade (A Stoker & Holmes Novel) by Colleen Gleason. Evaline Stoker, vampire hunter, and Mina Holmes, detective, return for this next adventure in an alternate Victorian London. This time the teens have been tasked to help a friend of Princess Alix , 17 year old Willa who has become obsessed with spiritualism as she searches for clues about her missing brother's whereabouts. The princess thinks Willa is being taken advantage of and Mina immediately agrees. There is a lot more going on though, including Charles Babbage's computing machines, vile murder, sleep walking, and vampires (of course!).

What I like about the Stoker & Holmes books is that the lead characters are not great friends. They are prickly characters who have been brought together by circumstance and continue to work together because otherwise they would be bored out of their minds. But Evaline & Mina don't especially like each other. They do however trust each other and that is important. In the midst of chaos, both professional and personal, they know they won't let each other down. Their evolving relationship is what draws me in even more than the mysteries themselves (which are always fun). Good stuff for the 13 & up crowd.

Nobody's Home: An Anubis Gates Story by Tim Powers. This novella might appeal more to fans of Powers and his wicked creepy 19th century London than anyone else, but I found it a lot fun to read, especially as the two main characters are young women who defy quite a few expectations.

Jacky Snapp is looking for the man who killed her fiancee Colin when she saves Harriet, who is under attack from the ghost of her husband. (Already crazy weird, right?) Post scuffle, Jacky and Harriet find themselves catching the attention of a lot London's ghosts and must travel to a barge moored below Westminster Palace called "Nobody's Home". They might have to pay in blood, but Nobody is their only shot to lose their attraction to London's ghosts. As it turns out though, Nobody knows a lot more about Jacky then she suspects.

Loads of atmosphere, breakneck pace, smart characters and no shortage of creepiness. It's short, fast and fun and includes outstanding illustrations from JK Potter. It's an expensive stocking stuffer, but Powers fans will be thrilled. (Excerpt here.)

And beyond these books there have been several for Booklist which I can't talk about and one for Locus which I can't talk about and....well, a couple of others but I'll post about them tomorrow.

I am a light reading fan of Kelley Armstrong's werewolf books, which started with Bitten (which spawned a tv series) (which I have not watched). In all honestly, I didn't love Bitten--the world building was pretty cool but there was some killing that seemed to be gratuitous and all the dramarama was a tad bit soap opera-ish at points to me. But I did read it and I didn't hate it and it certainly was not anything like Laurell K. Hamilton's succubus insanity so I've been open to reading Armstrong's other books in the series, especially the novellas released by Subterranean Press.

Forsaken is due out in late January but open for preorder now and one of the better books in the series I've read. It manages to combine a lot of tension with a look at the politics of a woman in power. Armstrong has been out in front of the woman-as-leader issue from the beginning--werewolf Elena's position in the werewolf pack has always been a big deal--but now that she is the Alpha of the North American pack and involved in some situations away from her territory, things take an international turn and that brings Forsaken into remarkably timely territory.

Elena's story has always been about a woman having to make big choices which I think is one of the strengths of the series. Who to be, where to live, who to love--all of these are things that readers can identify with even without the paranormal bits. But Armstrong took the books in a surprising direction when she her two main characters not just marry but have children. In Forsaken, it is the assertion that as a mother Elena can not be strong leader which takes center stage. (Can anyone hear echoes of this in the campaign of every single female political leader ever?)

So, our heroine is juggling a big scary issue with her kids in Forsaken and trying to negotiate with the British werewolf pack who is led by a serious sexist jerk and then bad guys try to kill her and her family and it all goes to hell in a hand basket. That final part is pretty standard stuff for the series but it actually takes backseat to the rest and female readers in particular will likely identify a lot with how Elena tries to balance her demands as mother and leader while still considering her very significant relationship with big sexy husband Clay.

Yeah, you knew that was going to be part of it too, right?

Armstrong is still not a 100% guarantee for me, but Forsaken is a fun read that hit all the bells and whistles. I blew through it overnight and enjoyed the ride a lot. I recommend it and suggest you keep an eye out for her other titles that appear at Sub Press.

Cherie Priest takes on an infamous American crime with Maplecroft, the first in the new Borden Dispatches series. She plants the reader in Falls Church, Massachusetts as Lizzie and her sister Emma stubbornly remain, living down the infamy of Lizzie's trial following the murder of their father and stepmother. Lizzie still has her axe, everybody thinks she did it and an air of mystery surrounds the comings and goings of the two women in Maplecroft, their impressive home.

Then a whole bunch of monster killing happens and readers realize that whatever Lizzie Borden did or didn't do in real life is nothing compared to what Cherie Priest has decided to do with her in fiction.

Maplecroft keeps to many of the facts about Lizzie Borden's life: her father & stepmother were murdered by an axe, Lizzie was tried for the crimes and acquitted, no one ever found out what happened. Emma Borden was Lizzie's older sister and they both did remain in Falls River and moved into a house named Maplecroft after the trial. Also, the actress Nance O'Neil, who had a close (although never as clearly defined) relationship with Lizzie as portrayed in the novel, was also a real person.

Priest presents all of their stories from their perspectives, alternating the point-of-view throughout the narrative. Lizzie's commands most of the story, along with Nance and the fictional character of Dr. Owen Seabury, based on the real family doctor (who testified at Lizzie's trial), Dr. Seabury Bowen. Each of them inches closer to the startling truth of the horrors in Falls Church on their own as the the suspense builds and the characters find themselves in the most dreadful of circumstances.

Fictional Lizzie still has her axe and in this case is not afraid to use it (and for good reason). Her sister Emma is portrayed in the author's hands as a talented marine biologist, publishing her findings (as the times required) under a man's name. There is a sickness in Falls Church, a madness both of the mind and body, and the sisters approach it from two different directions: science and legend. Dr. Seabury seeks out his own answers through keen observation of the afflicted and his medical texts. Thrown together as the tension builds, they embark on a mad dash to find answers, all the while pursued by the stuff of nightmares.

Thank goodness Lizzie can swing that axe!

Maplecroft is great fun--it draws readers in with an almost Victorian pace at the beginning and then builds and builds as the heroes find themselves increasingly threatened. The characters are deeply written, full of flaws, tortured by their own inner doubts and achingly human. It is especially fun to read about Lizzie Borden and see her interacting with her sister and lover while struggling to be the hero that circumstance demands she must be.

This is a perfect autumn read; it will keep you on the edge of your seat, slight freak you out and totally conjure up images of "something wicked this way comes"!

Richard Bowes writes some wonderful short stories.

"The Margay's Children" is the sort of Bowe's story that especially appeals to me - it brushes up against his love of New York City, his development of realistic complicated characters in a seemingly mundane setting and his drop-in of sudden and unexpected fantasy. We can call it urban fantasy and if you are familiar with Charles de Lint, for example, then you will know what I'm talking about. This is out-of-the-corner-of-your-eye kind of fantasy, subtle and careful.

It is my favorite kind of fantasy.

In many ways, "Margay" is a typical multi-generational family saga. There is much here of mothers and daughters and some of what that entails. Writing in the first person, the narrator, Richie, identifies himself as the godfather of Selesta, daughter of his old and dear friend Joan Malta. Selesta likes cats which is the thread of the larger story about the Malta family that the narrator slowly unravels.

There are Richie and Joan, who knew each other in their youth as "hippies" and Selesta who is young as the story opens but then it college as it continues. There is Ruth, Joan's mother, and her mysterious first husband (Joan's father) who went missing. Ruth is a pistol - she lives in "The House That Ate the World" (Joan's name for it.)

There is a bit of a falling out and a coming together, as mothers and daughters do. There is sitting on porches and children playing in the water and the announcement of a pregnancy which brings excitement and also some trepidation.

Cats figure into this story. Remember that.

What Bowes does so well in "The Margay's Children", as he does in so many other stories though, is lull you into the scenes on city streets and country porches, in places that would be utterly at home in any realistic novel or story. He lets you see just how easily lives can be different or more than you might expect; how the fantastic hides so easily within the mundane. He is revisiting a fairy tale here but you can read it without knowing that and enjoy it just the same.

Richie and Joan have been friends a long time, he is Selesta's godfather, and yet there is much he does not know. Secrets full everything in our lives and in our world; always there are the secrets.

Finally, what I love the most about "The Margay's Children" is that it is not horror. It is a warm family story at the end as it is at the beginning, which is exactly what I wanted it to be. Bowes would have ruined it by bringing in a true monster; nice to see he didn't take the easy way out.

[You can find "The Margay's Children" in The Queen, the Cambion and Seven Others.]

It's an interesting literary convergence that I should have just read Philip K. Dick's short story "We Can Remember It For You Wholesale" the same week that I finish reading the upcoming Sally Ride biography.

(More on the Ride biography after it's published - I'm reviewing for Booklist.)

I never read "Wholesale" although I did, like everybody else, see the movie "Total Recall" which I totally loved. But like nearly everything else, the story (while way shorter) is even better. There is still a wish to create false memories of Mars and still a problem encountered in implanting those memories and then, while the movie veers off to a Martian adventure, the story gives readers a much quieter, and crazier, ending. It's very Philip K. Dick and perfect (although I still love the movie).

Subterranean Press is reissuing all of the Dick's short stories in lovely collections -- I was reading the 5th volume which is due out in late August. "Wholesale" made me think about when Mars was an impossible dream and then Sally Ride made me think about when it was becoming attainable and then I follow the Mars rovers on twitter and they just make me think every dream could come true. Remember when Mars was beyond our reach?

Heck, remember when a female astronaut was the stuff of science fiction?

Mars. It's the planet I can imagine visiting one day, standing on, driving a rover around the surface, exploring its canyons, exploring the volcanoes, and then, most important, looking for evidence of past or current life. If there is life on a location other than Earth, Mars is a good candidate.

---[the wonderful amazing] Sally Ride, 2009

[Post pic is self portrait of Mars Rover Curiosity via NASA JPL.]

My February column is up and includes Christopher Barzak's collection Before and Afterlives. I was struck while writing my review by one particular passage in "The Map of Seventeen" as a father and daughter discuss her brother's homosexual relationship:

"Are you okay with that?" I asked.

"Can't not be," he said. "Not an option."

"Who says?"

"I need no authority figure on that," said Dad. "You have a child and, no matter what, you love them. That's just how it is."

"That's not how it is for everyone, Dad."

"Well thank the dear Lord I'm not everyone," he said. "Why would you want to live like that, with all those conditions on love?"

I didn't know what to say. He'd shocked me into silence the way I could always shock him into laughter. We had that effect on each other, like yin and yang. My dad's a good guy, likes the simpler life, seems pretty normal. He wears Allis Chalmers tractor hats and flannel shirts and jeans. He likes oatmeal and meatloaf and macaroni and cheese. Then he opens his mouth and turns into Buddha. I swear to God, he'll do it when you're least expecting it. I don't know sometimes whether he's like me and Tommy, hiding something different about himself but just has all these years of experience to make himself blend in. Like maybe he's an angel beneath that sun-browned, beginning-to-wrinkle human skin. "Do you really feel that way?" I asked. "It's one thing to say that, but is it that easy to truly feel that way?"

"Well it's not what you'd call easy, Meg. But It's what's right. Most of the time doing what's right is more difficult than doing what's wrong."

Price of the book is worth it right there for that exchange, don't you think? Magic.

See the full column here - it's all about Alice in Wonderland, selkies, mermaids and princesses. None of these books are what you're thinking, promise.

I've never read any of Kelly Armstrong's Otherworld series so I came to her upcoming novella Hidden with pretty much no reference. I knew it was about werewolves and it took place over Christmas but otherwise I didn't have a clue. But it was so easy to fall into this story and follow the plot and enjoy the characters that I really can't do anything other than recommend it. If you're a fan of Armstrong's books then it's a no-brainer but if you like werewolf books at all then you'll enjoy this one, promise.

The plot is straightforward: Elena is the Alpha of her pack and her husband Clay is the Beta and enforcer. They have a set of twins and have set off for a family Christmas up in the mountains and away from the politics of their close knit wolf family. The twins are all kinds of cute and also very smart and an early issue is whether or not mom and dad should reveal just what they truly are. (The kids are only four so the question of them being too young is a reasonable one.) But before they can dwell too much on family issues they have a run-in with a local werewolf who seems very nervous and pushy and just weird.

It would not be out of line to say the guy is hiding something.

So Elena and Clay call for back-up to keep a watch on the kiddies and go about learning about the strange guy and the recent unexplained murder of a young guy in the local town - who was apparently mauled by a pack of wild dogs. (Yes, your spider sense should be tingling about now.) There are some twists and turns in this mystery that keep you turning from one suspect to another and strange guy just keeps getting skeevier and while you know Elena and Clay are going to work it out they are certainly fun to watch. So the mystery is most satisfying.

The icing on the cake though is this couple. At first I thought I'd recommend Hidden as a crossover but honestly while a teen could certainly read it just fine, I think you need to be older to really grasp the significance of this relationship. Elena and Clay are in their forties and they have a long complicated backstory (you get enough in Hidden to fully understand it or you can read earlier titles to have the blow by blow). This is a couple with years behind them who have found a way into a partnership, had a couple of kids and worked out how to manage their very complicated lives. And yeah, there's some hot sex although this is not at all of the very sexy paranormal standard. It's there, it's good, it will put a smile on your face. (Plus if you've got kids you'll enjoy the two of them trying to sneak twenty minutes in the shower together to "conserve water".)

I love Christmas stories - always have, always will. Most of them are pretty treacly though or they are underwritten romances with a holiday setting that are prepackaged to take advantage of reader affection for the holiday. This annoys me to no end. Hidden is a good tale on its own that is wrapped around Christmas because this is a family trying to have a family holiday for the first time. There is a reason they are in those woods and the tree and the presents and the cookies are just part of scenery the mystery fits into. I liked Elena and Clay a lot, the kids were not useless (yea!) and the bad guy turns out to be really really bad. In fact my only complaint is the cover which is just a bit twee for my taste. But open it up and start reading and you'll have a good (if slightly bloody) holiday time. Promise!

I just finished THE HOUSE OF DISCARDED DREAMS and I had to fight an impulse to go surfing other reviews so I could be certain that I "got" the book the way I was "supposed" to. Ekaterina Sedia is a fantasy writer like no other - she makes you think about things you never considered thinking about before and because she writes so far outside the expected comfort zones she always makes me feel smarter and more creative for having experience books. Conversely, she makes me worry that I'm not smart enough to really and truly appreciate everything she is offering. I should stress that this is a weakness on my part and not Sedia's - I get used to the comfort zone and when I leave it, sometimes it is scary but always in a good way.

What I'm saying is that Ekaterina Sedia writes stories like no one else and because of that she is someone I always approach with high expectations and no small amount of respect.

HOUSE starts in familiar territory: college student Vimbai, daughter of Zimbabwean immigrants, is living in NJ, studying marine biology (specifically horseshoe crabs) and trying not to let her parents drive her crazy. This is all standard stuff. After finding a windblown ad for a roommate on the beach she takes a shot and meets Maya and Felix in their rental home perched on the dunes. Maya is friendly and straightforward - she works in the casino district and has a disaffected air about her of wanting to do something more with her life but unclear as to how to do that (or if she cares enough to care). Felix is a whole different deal. With black hair on his head that seems less hair then black nothingness, his eyes move in different directions, he speaks in cryptic sentences and seems to spend his days literally relieving people of their phantom pain. Regardless, it's not home and Vimbai really wants to be not at home. So she moves in and then things start to get very strange.

Let's just say that crackling sound you hear in the phone sometimes comes to life - or is already alive - and ends up living with them too.

And then, as if the telephone "phantom energy baby" isn't enough, the household wakes up to find themselves adrift at sea. The house, it appears, has decided to up and leave Jersey behind. Then the ghost of Vimbai's grandmother joins them and Felix's secret is revealed and Maya's furry pets from below the stairs move in (sort of dogs but not) and Vimbai talks to the horseshoe crabs below the waves and then - things really take a strange turn.

Yes, it gets way weirder.

The floating house and the odd occupants are really only the set-up for what Sedia has meant to do all along which is show how our past never leaves us and can influence the direction our hearts take for years to come. Vimbai has always dreamed about her family in Zimbabwe, and thus Zimbabwe comes to her in the house through a series of folktales and nightmares brought to life. Maya has been dealing with bad dreams based in her childhood and finds they are present in the house as well. As for Felix, well, I'll just let you learn about Felix on your own.

What was most interesting to me in the story was that Sedia didn't just jump feet first into fantasy and let the narrative go. Everything having to do with the horseshoe crabs is grounded in science and Vimbai's concerns about them - and how they are used for medical experiments by humans - becomes part and parcel of her old African nightmare which is based on folktales she was told as a child. Sedia wraps everything together: the stories, the science, the tr

Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to a celebration of two of my all time favorite literary genres: steampunk and alternate history! As usually happens around these parts, this multi-blog focus grew out of a discussion on books we love that seem woefully under appreciated by the masses. It's particularly odd to me that while steampunk and alt history are quite popular among adult readers, they seem to languish when directed at teens. Some of it seems to be massively poor cover decisions (epically poor in fact), others seem to be victims of a marketing model more focused on all things vampire and incapable of considering a gear-infused world where, say, California doesn't look like it used to and the Aztecs still have some serious power. (Yes, it's all about books and magic and war and adventure but put a fairy tale cover on it and it shall languish as both misunderstood and mistaken by the masses of fourteen-year olds who will nevertheless flock to Cherie Priest's BONESHAKER.) (As well they should but this is not an either/or supposition - you can read and love both. Please do.)

Soooo. On the chance that you have long hoped to read some alt history and/or steampunk but didn't know where to begin, let me invite you to a week of wonderfulness. There will be reviews, interviews, observations and considerations. This is a wide open celebration so if you want to join in, feel free to send me an email with the url and I will add you to this link schedule. Check back daily to pithy quotes from what's new and learn about some fabulous books you might have missed.

LINKS:

****Betsy looked at THE CLOCKWORK THREE over the weekend: "Dividing his narrative between three different characters, the book has more action, adventure, heart, music, good food, natural beauty, and strange underworld dealings than you could ever hope to find. From proto-robots to golems and séances, it also manages to be packed with exciting elements without ever feeling overdone."

****Liz is talking about Alt History at A Chair, A Fireplace & A Tea Cozy.

****Don't forget Leila is running a cover contest to make some Alt Hist titles more appealing to teen readers over at Bookshelves of Doom with I See a Cover and Want it Painted Black: "The contest was actually Josh's idea. If he doesn't like cover art, he generally won't pick up the book. (Seriously. I know he would dig The Explosionist, but IT LOOKS TOO GENERIC AND GIRLY, even though I've explained that the cover art doesn't even remotely reflect the story. Same goes for Flora Segunda, except in that case, it apparently looks TOO YOUNG AND NEW AGE-Y FLOATY FANTASY. (His words. Sigh.)) On the rare occasions that his desire for the book supersedes his stubbornness, he SPRAYPAINTS THE COVER BLACK."

****An overview of the SLJ article "Steampunk: Full Steam Ahead" at Writing and Ruminating: "This sort of fiction dates back to early speculative fiction writers, including H.G. Wells and Jules Verne, and classic hallmarks include a sort of dark, Victorian aesthetic. Some of today's writers adhere to all those markers, including a setting in a Victorian or Edwardian England, but others tend to range farther afield both geographically and topically."

I am feeling some sort of dramatic post-election malaise that makes me want to lie on the couch and watch endless reruns of The Big Bang Theory (or Josie and the Pussycats). I'm not supposed to care about any of it at this point (the voting is done - although Alaska is going to drag on for awhile it seems) but the buzz of thinking about it all is not going away. Of course it doesn't help that none of them seem the slightest bit concerned about actually working together and getting something positive done for the damn country. If they were all celebrating what good things they will be doing in the future then I'd probably be delighted right now.

That's a not a dig on either political party by the way, but on the whole combative mass of them.

To regain my sanity I have been reading HAUNTED LEGENDS, the new anthology of "local legends and ghost stories" edited by Ellen Datlow and Nick Mamatas. There are several stories to highlight (and I hope to get to all of them) but the one that has stuck with me lately is Caitlin Kiernan's "As Red As Red". It's set in Rhode Island which makes it near and dear to my heart and is about a local vampire legend. It has the classic Kiernan style of writing around the story - never ramming the point down your throat - and giving you a nice sense of smart scary by the time you get to the end.

Plus it involves a grad student researching historic vampire stories. That is so cool I don't know where to begin.

The story opens with a coffee shop visit between the protagonist and Abby Gladding, a woman she has met on Bowen's Wharf in Newport who has taken an interest in her research on "Rhode Island vampires and the hysteria of crowds...". It is an idle, perhaps flirtatious conversation that allows Kiernan to spin on several things but mostly the legend of Mercy Brown who was exhumed as a suspected vampire in 1892.

The protagonist finds Gladding interesting, and thinks about her in the days that follow as she continues her research into Mercy and other similar tales. Kiernan really excels here at making Newport come alive and immersing her readers in what it is like to chase a story. Here's a bit I love:

I make the commute from Providence to Newport, crossing the East Passage of Narragansett Bay to Conanicut Island, and then the West Passage to Aquidneck Island and Newport. Most of the day is spent at the Redwood Library and Athenaeum on Bellevue, shut away with my newspaper clippings and microfiche, with frail yellowed books that were printed before the Revolutionary War. I wear the white cotton gloves they give me for handling archival materials, and make several pages of handwritten notes, pertaining primarily to the treatment of cases of consumption in Newport during the first two decades of the eighteenth century.

Kiernan puts you right there, at the table with her narrator, turning those pages, chasing those dead girls, seeking the stories of terror and paranoia that made people dig up their loved ones. The whole story is that way and even as it veers towards the paranormal (Abby is not what she seems, of course) (and no - no actual blood sucking takes place, Kiernan is waaaaay too smart and subtle for that), it still remains so plausible and normal that you can see it all happening and even though it scares you a bit, you are jealous that it has never happened to you.

History coming alive would be awesome - even if it's kinda ghosty.

"As Red As Red" is a wonderful haunted legend story. There is a lot more to it then I've shared here, (don't want to spoil all the best bits), but more than anything this is

This is my favorite time of the year, totally and completely. I think it is because of growing up in Florida where we never saw a change to the seasons. I love feeling Autumn come on, the crispness in the air, the wind, the storms. It's awesome. I think Ray Bradbury was dead on with his whole suggestion of "October Country" and the type of stories it entails. Want to get a good old school scare on? Read SOMETHING WICKED THIS WAY COMES. It convinced me that every single thing my mother ever said about avoiding carnivals was true. (And Kate Milford's THE BONESHAKER just reinforced it.) (I should point out that my mother is not right about everything but when it comes to creepy carnies in parking lots you really have to go with her.)

This month I included two collections in my column: Darkness (2 Decades of Modern Horror) and The Best Horror of the Year, Vol 2. They are adult collections (and I highly recommend them if you want some serious scareage) but several stories also fit great for teens - those were the ones I highlighted. In particular I had to point out the work of two of my favorite current writers, Kelly Link and Liz Hand. Here's what I wrote about them:

Kelly Link contributes what has become a modern classic: “The Specialist’s Hat.” This exploration of childhood and games is exceptional in the way it casually builds tension over the course of a single evening with two little girls and their babysitter. Nothing obvious, nothing horrifying and then the end knocks you down with epic force. Words should not be able to accomplish such visceral reactions and yet, with Link, they often do. She’s awesome -- period. As to Elizabeth Hand’s “The Erl-King,” all I can say is that she is the only writer, with perhaps the exception of Richard Bowes, who could possibly combine a reminiscence of Andy Warhol’s Factory and Arthur Rackham’s fairy tale paintings with -- bonus -- rock and roll, teen angst and the danger lurking in a hot summer night. There is also a nod to Goethe because, well, because this is Liz Hand writing about two young girls who go looking for a lost pet, and find instead a man who made a very bad deal decades before that is now coming due. “The Erl-King” has a heroine and doomed dancing girl circa Angela Chase and Rayanne Graff, a narrative that winds from scrapbooks full of dazed hippie confusion to peeks of fairy creatures slyly nodding in the wings. It is about what you would give for your fifteen minutes of fame, and will make readers ponder their own wishes and bargains. Even though this is an early tale from Hand, it continues to prove that, along with Link, she writes some of the deepest, most profound, and dazzling fiction today for teens.

What impresses me the most about Link & Hand, and why I happily reach for every single thing they write (but especially their short stories) is that they aren't obvious. They both send out stories that seem to be one thing but dance into being another. You get more than just fear or fantasy - you get art and pop culture, sorrow and sweetness, love and hate. In these two cases you have two teens laughing on the way to adulthood and two children with wide eyes being teased (perhaps) a new baby sitter. Neither of the stories seem remarkable, not when you begin. And then slowly but surely, relentlessly in fact, both authors give you more and more reasons to reconsider what you thought you were reading, what you thought you knew about where these stories were going. And then they catch you and then they have you and then they don't let you go.

And then you read the last paragraphs, the last words and you can't believe they got you like that. It's not a gotcha, it's a wow. Every single time, Link and Hand wow me.

Read "The Spec

Back in January I posted my thoughts on a Chizine title The World More Full of Weeping and how utterly and completely gobsmacked I was by it. Chizine sent along another novella, The Thief of Broken Toys by Tim Lebbon which I read last month and haven't been able to forget about. It's so subtle, so understated, that when it was finished I wasn't even sure entirely what happened. That doesn't mean the plot is hard to follow, just that Lebbon leads you along with such an infinite level of care that you turn the last page, with its heartbreaking conclusion, and think that couldn't possibly - he didn't just do that to me - I thought something else would happen and then you just sit back and think about it and a few weeks later you're still thinking about it.

I'm still thinking about this book.
The plot is simple - set in a small fishing village on the Cornish coast, the omniscient narrator introduces Ray, a father in deep mourning over the loss of his son Toby due to illness in the previous year. His marriage has fallen apart (not just because of the tragedy) and his wife now lives with in the village with a man who was once his best friend. Ray is still in the house, still close to Toby's room and his things, still utterly and completely paralyzed by loss. (His wife is also in deep mourning although she is coping much better.) Ray struggles to make basic conversation with the townspeople who reach out to him - even Rachel, whose son was Toby's friend. Rachel feels an increasing tenderness towards Ray and there is a possibility of something more there but he can't seem to see it yet, or acknowledge it. He can barely leave the house and walk the cliffs and wrap his head around this life that does not include his son. And then he meets the thief of broken toys.

There is a box of Toby's broken toys in his room, toys that Ray feels very guilty about because he promised (as parents do) to fix each of them but never got around to it. The mysterious thief seems to travel from place to place fixing toys. He fixes one for Ray and it seems like life gets better, like he can see a way to live in it, like he will miss Toby but be okay. But you read this and wonder if really it is all that easy and of course it isn't, because the thief needs a favor and Ray just doesn't seem to have it in him.

It's not what you think. Whatever you are thinking right this minute, know that you are very nearly certainly 100% wrong. This is not one of those bloody, horror-filled, terrifying books. It's not. But what it is, what you find here, is a different kind of scary story - a demand for something else from Ray and a punishment that is very nearly indescribable. In fact, as you turn that last page you realize that so many of those slash and burn writers don't know a damn thing about what real horror is about. They don't know what you should really be afraid of. They don't know anything.

But Tim Lebbon does. And he beats you up with that knowledge. He makes you bleed from the heart. It's stunning.

Chizine is doing some amazing things. Check them out and don't let The Thief of Broken Toys get away from you.

[Post pic of the Cornish coast.]

I've mentioned several times that I review few paranormal titles for teens largely because I am sick to death of the vampire/werewolf craze. It's not that I don't enjoy a little blood and fur with my reading (and ironically just finished two books for my October column that are excellent in that regard) but that so many YA paranormal is more concerned with the "does he love me/do I love him/will he eat me even if I love him/do I want to be a vamp or werewolf to keep him/how often will he take his shirt off" style of writing then anything else.

In other words, they are very much written for a teen audience (usually girls) utterly preoccupied with love & romance and I just got burned out on it. I remember being completely addicted to Harlequin when I was 14 so I understand this preoccupation with the love aspects of paranormal writing but I'm not 14 anymore which is why when I start getting frustrated reading certain books for teens I step away from a particular genre and look elsewhere. It's not the books fault, it's mine and I get that.

But I still want to read a good paranormal title every now and again!

All this is to say that recently I requested Carrie Vaughn's DISCORD'S APPLE from Tor and they unexpectedly tossed her latest werewolf title KITTY GOES TO WAR into the package. I saw the Kitty books recently when I was browsing for something to complement Gail Carriger's PARASOL PROTECTORATE series (steampunk paranormal wondefulness that I highly recommend) but didn't pick up the first book. Starting with book 8 in a series isn't the best way to dive in but WAR was here and I was curious so I gave it a read and enjoyed the heck out of it. Finally - paranormal for grown-ups!

The rundown: Kitty is a werewolf in Denver who has a late night talk radio show on all things paranormal. She's the alpha for the local pack and is married to Ben, a local attorney and also werewolf. This time around she has two major plot lines - one mystery involving the local Speedy Mart franchise (basically 7-11) and if there are nefarious doings being conducted by their CEO and, more importantly (in terms of detail) she's been called in by the army to help deal with some soldiers recently returned from Afghanistan who were turned into werewolves by their CO (with their permission) but have fallen to pieces since his death in battle. Think about it - werewolves, without an alpha, suffering from PTSD. Kitty tries to save the guys and teach them how to be wolves but finds that their issues with coping with war are very nearly overwhelming. So readers get not only paranormal talk, but PTSD talk as well which makes the book both interesting and timely and also fascinating to read.

What I loved here is that Vaughn makes the book adult without relying on sex to do the work for her. It's not that I don't like sex (pardon me while I laugh) but all too often in this genre in particular authors get lazy and throw in a ton of graphic sex scenes to make up for paper thin plots (yes, Laurell K. Hamilton - I'm looking at you). YA authors do the same thing without being quite so graphic - they walk up to the "R" rating while Hamilton, et all crossover to "X" but either way it's the same result. You are reading badly written erotica (on one level or another) in order to get a paranormal world story and I think that is a lousy thing to do to readers. Which is why I'm so delighted with Kitty and crew.

It's not like Vaughn is squeaky clean in that regard - Kitty & husband Ben have more than a few close moments together but it's just a paragraph or two and doesn't pull the plot away from what matters which is how to deal with the problems at hand. Yep, they love each other a

Cherie Priest just won the Locus award for BONESHAKER (reviewed last October) and it seemed like the perfect time to show the cover for her new novella, CLEMENTINE which takes place in the same "clockwork century" world. Here's a bit of my review of that one:

Clementine is serious adventure -- it’s exciting, edge-of-your-seat kind of action that never lets up -- but this is also the story of three black men and a white woman in a time and place where the mere idea they could be powerful people is barely tolerated, let alone celebrated. Priest knows that, and addresses it, but she doesn’t let the plot get weighed down by it. There’s a fine line here between keeping her characters moving and letting them stop and think, and just as she has done so effectively in her previous novels, the author accomplishes that balance again with great aplomb. Boyd and Hainey are people with few options left but pride, but they are not the sort to back down, let alone fade away. They will do what they have set to do, and to hell with anyone who would dare stop them.

I am particularly excited about CLEMENTINE because it sports my very first cover blurb. I couldn't be happier to see it here, on such a great book by an author whose work I enjoy so much.

Is that cover cool or what? And the book is excellent - a great read for teens or adults and it sports a strong female character as well as an African American lead who is awesome. I have DREADNOUGHT near the top of the TBR pile right now and look forward to seeing what happens next.

Subterranean Press has published a ton of amazing books over the years and I consider it one of my all time favorite publishers. I was recently sent one very odd book for review however - one that I am still shaking my head over and frankly can not believe. Written by Pat Rothfuss and illustrated in black and white in a candy cane, sweetheart, big-eyed innocent kind of way, The Adventures of the Princess and Mr. Whiffle: The Thing Beneath the Bed is not a book for children but it is a fairy tale; it's about the truest, most original, most sincerely what-a-fairy-tale-used-to-be kind of fairy tale that I have come across in a long long time.

Honestly, I'm not sure I liked this book because it really kind of freaked me out. And yet, I couldn't stop turning the pages. It's written in a picture book format with an oversized picture and a few words on each page. It is also split in thirds, and as you stop before each "pre-ending" you are at a precipice of where you think the book is leading you, but turning the next page shoves you into a new direction. Until the end - and whoa nelly what an ending.

The "Princess" lives all alone with her teddy bear ("Mr. Whiffle") in a castle. They play all day and everything is sunshine and roses except at night, when the thing under the bed makes itself known. Except it's not what you think.

In the second section a mysterious package arrives and the Princess has a new kitten and now it is sunshine and roses with Mr. Wiffle and Emmy and all is good until Emmy goes missing and a long dark night is ahead of them and the Princess hears a sound under the bed and has to wonder just what has happened to her new kitten. Except it's not what you think.

In the third section - well I can't tell you that without ruining the first and second and really it must all be read in sequence to fully appreciate the story. All I can say is hold on tight because Rothfuss has crafted something truly impressive. As a writer I can hardly believe how well each word hinges on the one that comes before it. And the combination of words and pictures is pitch perfect. Taylor keeps lulling you into thinking this story is one thing, and then Rothfuss forces you to realize it is something else. Talk about careening from one extreme to another and yet isn't that what the old fairy tales, the true fairy tales were all about? Princesses who were not safe, families that were not happy, monsters that dressed as mothers and grandmothers who were really monsters.

Remember, Hansel and Gretel were abandoned in the woods to starve death by their loving father. Those stories were seriously harsh in the real once upon a time. A candy covered cottage was nothing to celebrate, no matter how pretty it looked. And frankly, I still wonder just what the hell Goldilocks was doing with those bears. (And Fables really blew my mind with that story too.)

As I said, I still don't know if I like this book but I do admire it, and that might be even more significant. I am reminded yet again with The Adventures of the Princess and Mir Whiffle how a good writer can take a story small in scope and make it gigantic. I hope Rothfuss gets some serious love from the award folks for this one - because there truly is nothing else out there like it.

Oh - and I'll say it one more time: Not for children!! (But teenagers with a wickedly dark sense of humor will eat it up with a spoon, promise.)

I wish I could recall where I heard about Gail Carriger's Soulless (Book 1 in "The Parasol Protectorate" series) because I just read it and flat out loved every blessed second and really want to thank that person. It's a mix of romance and steampunk, with vamps and werewolves AND.....parasols. Also much witty humorous banter of a decidedly British sort as well as much witty romantic banter of the Myrna Loy/William Powell sort AND...a fabulous bluestocking protagonist who I fell so hard and fast for that I swear I very nearly swooned with pleasure each second Miss Alexia Tarabotti opened her mouth.

I mean really, it's that fabulous.

Short set-up: Alexia is soulless, a so-called preternatural in a Victorian England that long ago signed a pact to allow vamps and werewolves in society. Preternaturals don't generally mix with the supernaturals however as at one time they hunted them - especially vamps. If a preternatural touches a supernatural they render them human as long they touch - removing their healing abilities, fangs, etc. (Alexia can turn a werewolf from wolf to human form for example.) Alexia is largely just a typical society lady however, although at 26 an unmarried spinsterish one. She is also half Italian and thus much darker than those in society (her olive complexion is a continuous bone of contention with her mother and two younger half sisters) and, typical bluestocking, she is smart as a whip and way too outspoken. In other words, she's bored out of her mind around her silly sisters and mother (although she does love them) and wishes she had something else to do with her life. Fortunately the book opens with major drama and there isn't a lot of time for Alexia to sit around.

The romantic interest is Lord Maccon, local Alpha werewolf and more importantly head of the BUR which is kind of the supernatural Scotland Yard. He knows what Alexia is and they have had run-ins in the past, both over supernatural and society interests. When a strange vamp attacks Alexia at a party in the first chapter (and doesn't know what she is to boot) and she is forced to kill hm, Maccon investigates. It quickly becomes obvious that there are all sorts of nefarious things going on that put all kinds of individuals in danger AND....that Maccon has a major crush on our girl Alexia. She's a bit slow on the uptake there - having been hearing forever that she is unsuitable for any kind of decent match she can't imagine why any important man (especially a Lord, even though he's a werewolf) would be interested. Having read about one too many smart Victorian spinsters who were vastly under appreciated in their day, I get her point.

Things buzz along rapidly between the two as they are swept up in the book's events and while the kisses do come with nice regularity, don't worry that you are being plunged into a steamy romance. (More like Laurell K Hamilton before she jumped the erotica shark - and then just kept jumping it.) This is first and foremost a steampunk mystery with a couple that harken back to the best of the crime-solving relationships. There's also a ton of humor, some grand supporting characters (both human and not) and atmosphere that fairly drips off the pages.

Pardon my gushing but after you've read an entire column's worth of the world is going to hell in a handbasket and then your Booklist editor sends you titles on Burma, food politics and feminist struggles around the world, well you are so aching for light reading fun that you think you might bust from anticipation. It is usually at these junctures that you are horribly disappointed and instead to be surprised in the best kind of way, well, a girl is allowed to get a bit gushy.

I do love an adult book - not that the content is too racy for older teens or wouldn

I just finished two recent Kage Baker Company titles from Subterranean Press that cemented for me just how much fun her books are. Interestingly, one focuses on male protagonists while the other is certainly female. They do intersect however (rather briefly) and are set in the same time and place. You've got Victorian England, a secret society of inventors and spies, a high class bordello that hides a very impressive spy organization and a ton of steampunkish fun. Of the two, The Women of Nell Gwynne's was my favorite but I heartily recommend both.

Not Less Than Gods begins at the very beginning with the conception of Edward Alton Bell-Fairfax. From there we follow our hero through a Dickensian childhood (condensed to just a couple of chapters) and his discovery of his true mission: as a member of the Gentlemen's Speculative Society (familiar to fans of the Company novels). Edward has lots of adventures and Baker revels in sharing this "grand tour to gather intelligence". The narrative is exceedingly action-packed - a true adventure - but the mystery is equally compelling and Edward makes for an excellent hero. The guy's life has been so miserable that you really want him to have a happily ever after. The GSS is really a big Victorian collection of Q-types so if you like your gadgets then you will really enjoy this crew (and again - STEAMPUNK!!!!).

The Women of Nell Gwynne's, as I said, is set in the same world and Edward actually visits the lady as a bit of an initiation in Not Less Than Gods. The novella though is more focused on one woman, Lady Beatrice, who due to exceedingly tragic circumstances turns to prostitution to support herself. Through a family connection she becomes part of the most discreet and upscale bordello in London - which also happens to be an intelligence gathering unit for the GSS. The events of Nell Gwynne's take place largely over a few days (excepting the backstory for Beatrice). There is a mystery, several potential villains, some men eager for a roll in the hay (that's how the ladies get involved in the first place) and a potentially lethal machine. The plot flies by and the ladies are hysterical. Mata Hari had nothing on Nell Gwynne's; they know what they need to do and they accomplish it quite effectively. And Lady Beatrice - she's just awesome. Never panics, always pragmatic (even when dressed only in a sheet and flowers) and witty as hell. She is awesome.

What do I like about these two books? Collectively, they are very smart fun. You get all the elements of good story and also characters who think and plots that speak to the Sherlock Holmes in all of us. For me, Kage Baker is just about as good as it gets.

[Covers and illustrations by JK Potter. Not Less Than Gods is available as a limited edition from Sub Press in December - no idea if it will be available in tpb or hc soon after or not.]

Christopher Barzak has a story in the new issue of Asimov's "The Ghost-Hunter's Beautiful Daughter" that perfectly illustrates what he does with ghost stories that is so appealing to me. First, it is set in Warren, Ohio, a place that Barzak is familiar with and nails so effectively. He does not write about Ohio as an exceptional place however but rather Ohio at its most common or mundane and yet it is no less fascinating. The very commonality of Barzak's settings makes his stories that much more compelling - even if, like me you have never been in Ohio, you recognize the towns he writes about. They are, for lack of a better description, quintessentially American and I don't mean that in a kitschy or rose-colored sort of way but more in a hard working, regular old middle class, ordinary, kind of town. Except there are ghosts in Barzak's Warren, and the ghost-hunter and his daughter make them go away.

In this story the daughter is the catalyst - the one who sees the ghosts - and her father is the one with an invention that literally sucks them up. But Sylvie still sees them and more importantly hears them and Barzak explores her relationship with them and the burden she bears as their unfortunate link. That one of those ghosts is someone she loves just makes everything that much more complicated (and no - it's not a doomed romance with the undead, thank you very much).

So, why do I love Christopher Barzak's stories? Because they are populated with the living and the dead who are struggling to figure out the world and where they fit in it. Most appealingly, his ghosts are not vengeance-filled monsters but often just sad people who don't know how they ended up where they are now. They are confused and troubled and, well, an awful like those of us among the living except they have even less control over their future then we do (which says a lot).

Chris talks a bit about the story's origins at his site (and the real ghost walk in Warren). You can't read it online unfortunately but Asmiov's is always worth the purchase price anyway and if you like ghosts who truly dwell in a gray area and the people who find themselves drawn in there with them, then you will enjoy this story. Although enjoy might be a tough word for Barzak's ghosts - it's more like you are affected by them and keep thinking about them and worry about them. The ghosts I have known would recognize his worlds I think, and find some odd comfort there. At least the way he writes them, ghosts are not caricatures of the living. They are just dead and not yet gone which is the way I think it is for a lot of people we loved once. Just gone away too far for us to see, but not far enough for them to be free.

Yeah, he's that good of a writer, promise.

[Post pic from Paris’s famed Père-Lachaise cemetery.]

Charles De Lint has a new book out this month for adult readers, The Mystery of Grace (it would work fine for older teens as well). It does not take place in De Lint's popular Newford setting and is a bit of a departure story-wise as well. There are no creatures seen out of the corner of the eye, no woodland fairies or crow girls or old world spirits. Grace is first and foremost about what happens when you die and even more so, when you fall in love afterward with someone who is still alive.

The Grace of the title is a woman who loves rockabilly music, tattoos, working on cars (she's customizes hot rods for a living) and her abuelo. His death has shaken her world and left her bereft. Grace is not the quitting type though and she is determined to continue to find joy and love in her friends, who are also her family. The problem is that there is an accident and Grace ends up dying and where she goes is not at all where she thought she would end up. It's not hell (thank goodness) but it's not heaven either. In fact it's her neighborhood - sort of. How everyone shows up there and why, and what they have to do to leave (because this afterlife is just not right) is one of the book's mysteries. The other is what on earth Grace is going to do about John.

John is alive and he meets Grace only after she is dead because true to form for De Lint, there is a way for the dead to revisit the land of the living. It's a little complicated and it involves Halloween (big surprise) but Grace gets through and meets John who is all kinds of sweet and cool and well - what would you do if this was your chance before you return to a very underpopulated neighborhood of dead strangeness? What Grace doesn't expect is to fall so hard for John or for him to fall so much for her.

From there the book follows two plots as Grace and her dead friends try to uncover the secrets of their world and John and his friends try to figure out how the heck they all met someone who was dead. You wonder if they will see each other again (there is another chance and John is determined to while Grace hopes - halfway at least - to avoid him) and what that might mean and also just what the hell is going on with afterlifeland. (There's a library and a record store though - so it's closer to heaven than hell in my book.)

I've been a fan of De Lint's for a long long time and have a special fondness for some of his Newford characters, Jilly in particular. Grace is a very compelling character although I think the music and cars are laid on a little thick. It's fine that she's into that kind of thing but it's a bigger part of the plot than I think is necessary. I got a good sense of who she was before she died (which is obviously very early on in the book) but it seems like De Lint didn't think I got her and wanted to keep showing who she was and that got a little old. I also struggled with the romance angle as they fall so hard so fast and, well, I'm all about the instant attraction but if someone just walked out and didn't leave a number would you really pound the pavement for weeks to find her? And would you know it was love? I guess it's that in most of his books De Lint develops his characters much more slowly. I almost felt like The Mystery of Grace was 50 or 100 pages short - it all comes on fast and furious and the characters fall for each other before the reader has a chance to fall for either one of them.

As to the larger mystery of the afterlife, well that is very well done and there are several supporting characters who shine in small but memorable ways. One thing I did really like about the book was that De Lint writes about faith - all kinds of faith - it literally becomes a battle between those who have faith, in everything from God to the Beatles or Darwin, and someone who does not. Here's an especially cool passage:

It really is all about the blood, I realize, my head filling with a wave of understanding that seems to come from somewhere outside of me.

Blood.

The blood of saints and martyrs.

The blood of Christ.

The literal blood that sustains our lives, and the blood of the lamb that sustains our souls.

I'm not saying I'm a saint or a martyr. But like anybody else, I've got blood and no matter what a person believes or doesn't believe, that blood is sacred. It's what keeps us alive. It's the gateway to life and connects us to every living being. To the seas and the land, to the whole damn planet.

Which is another way of saying that it connects us to God.

Don't think it's an overly religious book but there is a moment where everyone has to put what they believe in on the table and for Grace it's not Jesus so much as herself - her own flesh and her own blood. That's when I really started to love her and that's what made up for all the other bits and pieces that let me down a bit. The Mystery of Grace is not the strongest book Charles De Lint has ever written, but it's still a fine story which is a heckuva lot better than most titles out there today. As usual he gave me a bit to think about, and his fans will certainly enjoy this one just fine. I just hope that next time the story is a little bit longer.

[Post title is a quote from The Mystery of Grace.]

In the huge complicated mess/discussion known as Racefail, there is one thread of comments that has really stood out for me. (If you have no idea what Racefail is, first consider yourself lucky. Second, check out Niall's recent post which covers the main points with relevant links.) Several prominent editors and writers in the SFF genre have stated that readers do not always read a book correctly. The specific book in question is Elizabeth Bear's Blood and Iron and the primary negative post responding to it, from a person of color, can be found here. In the days (weeks, months) since that response some prominent authors and editors in the field have all written at one point or another that Avalon's Willow did not read the book the way Bear intended it to be read and then they, along with others who chimed in, have suggested that writers and editors are better judges of what a book means than most readers in general and minority readers in particular. This is apparently true because of their education and expertise.

(To say that I am surprised by some of the people who have written this would be an understatement. To say that I perfectly expected others to be arrogant jerks and write it is obvious.)

You can think what you will of all that in terms of Bear's book (which I have not read), but this larger idea that a reader must perceive a book only one correct way - the way the writer intends it - just seems absurd to me. We all bring our own baggage to the table when we read and no one, least of all the author, has any idea of what that baggage might be. When I read a book that has a character suffering from cancer I see myself and my family, ditto a character with a chronic incurable disease. When a book is written about the Florida shore I am very judgmental, and the same goes for books set in Alaska or involving aviation. I'm not suggesting that only Floridians can set a book in Florida (I know how absurd an idea like that can be) however I do think as a writer you need to realize that Floridians will be reading your book and so you better get it right - you better know not only the geography but the environment, the weather, the sights and sounds and smells. You need to know how people would dress and what small wave surfing is like (as opposed to big wave) and on and on and on. You have to think about these things if that is what you want to write because I'm out here and I know these things and I'm not the only one.

Perhaps the best case in point I can bring up is Into the Wild because a zillion people have read that book and heaven knows, I've written many times how much I loathe it. The camps for Wild are split largely in two - between those who love the romance of the wilderness ideal and those who can not get past the survival reality. For thinking the protagonist made foolish choices and for being frustrated at the author's overly sympathetic portrayal of his self-induced predicament (and death) are readers like me somehow wrong? Are we just not getting what Jon Krakauer was doing? And are those who agree with him - those who have never been to Alaska and have no knowledge of the place where Chris McCandless died beyond the book and movie but love that he at least pursued his dream regardless of its danger, are they reading it right - are they better than me because they agree with Krakauer?

Well of course not. They simply have their reasons for seeing it one way, and I (along with others) have my reasons for seeing it another.

Racefail has largely been about the portrayal of persons of color in SFF which is a whole lot more complicated than wilderness survival. This is something as a writer that I have thought about a lot. In both of my books I just dodged it entirely - race, ethnicity, marital status, pretty much every personal aspect of the characters' lives is absent from the manuscripts. I did this because those details have nothing to do with the stories - my books are about flying in Alaska and how a certain group of pilots handled that. Where they came from or how they looked is completely immaterial. (It was immaterial to us then so it makes sense to immaterial when writing about it.) As it happens, the only minority pilots I personally knew in those years were Alaskan Natives and while I did write about some incidents/crashes involving them (just as I did about white pilots) I didn't mention they were Natives. Again - no point. In fact it would have weird to point it out. I left my characters as pretty much blank slates who can be whatever the reader wants them to be beyond their jobs. That was easy for me though, and made sense for these books.

I am also though, very aware of my limitations. As I wrote a couple of months ago, I know what I don't notice. Here's what I mean from that post:

Mostly though, everyday I think of all those men and women in my classes, so many of whom came from schools where they graduated with no idea how to write a paragraph let alone a paper; no knowledge of 20th century wars, no idea of what they wanted to do or who they wanted to be. I think of the sergeant who was stopped more than once for jogging while on base by young white MPs who he outranked but still treated him like a criminal simply because they could. I think of the young man from Louisiana who had never sat in a classroom with a white student and thought this was normal. I think of the young man who looked at me with anger and defiance and demanded to know how I dared to suggest that Rosa Parks had not been mistreated by being forced to sit in the back of the bus. I stood there stuttering in front of him, with all of his 20 years and angrier than hell, as I tried to explain that she was certainly humiliated and disrespected but not physically abused. That was the point I was trying to make. "What is the difference?" he demanded. "And what do you know about it?"

And I was too young and too embarrassed to admit that I didn't know, that I was wrong. It should have been a teachable moment for the white and black students and for me but I worried too much about maintaining control and sticking to the schedule and being the teacher. I thought about me and not about him.

I don't know what it is like to read as a black person, or Hispanic person or Asian person or gay person or on and on. Honestly, I don't know what it is like to read as a guy and that has been a concern for me as all the dialog I have written in the AK books is between men. (This is where my husband helps.) I know that men process information differently than women and they talk to each other differently - I worked with enough of them to get that, but writing it....well, I have to be careful to not sound like a woman's idealized version of men bonding. If this is hard enough, how could I know what would seem racist to a minority reader? I do worry about race in my books as it pertains to Alaska Natives because I do write about them - in the context of our passengers. I am trying very hard to be sure that what I write is exactly as I saw it and knew it but the subject matter in some cases - suicides and murders in the context of the dead body contract we flew - is very sensitive. I hope I'm getting it right but I'm sure I will know - it will be made clear to me by readers - if I get it wrong. One thing I do have to accept is that I saw these events one way and they might very well have seen them another. And that is something that neither of us will be able to do much about.

Everything I read is through the prism of who I am and as I writer I am abundantly aware of this every time I write. As a reviewer I have found several instances where writers have gotten it so wrong, so incredibly unbelievably wrong that it boggles the mind. (We're talking obvious wrong like geographic locations and also disturbingly wrong like someone trying to write southern dialect in a way that this former southerner can not even recognize let alone pronounce.) But do writers get a free pass simply because they wrote it? Do editors get a pass because they edited the book and thus have a higher stake in it?

Oh please - I don't bloody well think so. Ultimately though, it shouldn't be a question of whose opinion matters more - the whole idea is frankly quite insulting. It should just be about acknowledging and respecting the opinions of others and when a bunch of people rise up and say something as a group, well then you damn well better respect it a lot.

I've received several ARCs from Subterranean Press lately that look fantastic and I'm really excited about. Before I start writing about the future though I do want to point out that Cherie Priest's new Daniel Boone/cave dwelling monster story Those Who Went Remain There Still is now available. As some of you will recall from my October column, I adored this book and strongly recommend it.

Now to titles down the line...

Elizabeth Bear's Seven for a Secret is a sequel (of sorts) to her alt history collection (which included a Nikola Tesla guest shot) New Amsterdam. I'll admit I'm more than a bit surprised by the bloodthirsty choice for the book's cover as it really isn't that kind of book. (There is one bloody scene but it's a small one and now how I would primarily describe the story.) The main character is a vampire and werewolves and sorcerery all take front and center positions but mostly it is a story about a teenage girl struggling to decide what is the right thing to do during a time of war and occupation. Oh - and she might be in the process of becoming a werewolf. (Bummer.) As to be expected from Bear, this is a very elegantly told story with great characters and no small attention paid to the world in which they inhabit. My review should appear in the May column on recommended fantasy titles. (It is written for adults but the teen characters this time out make it perfect for YA readers.)

Kage Baker has a novella loosely related to her Company novels due in June, The Women of Nell Gwynne's. Here's the description (I haven't read this one yet):

Lady Beatrice was the proper British daughter of a proper British soldier, until tragedy struck and sent her home to walk the streets of early-Victorian London. But Lady Beatrice is no ordinary whore, and is soon recruited to join an underground establishment known as Nell Gwynne’s. Nell Gwynne’s is far more than simply the finest and most exclusive brothel in Whitehall; it is in fact the sister organization to the Gentlemen’s Speculative Society, that 19th-century predecessor to a certain Company...and when a member of the Society goes missing on a peculiar assignment, it’s up to Lady Beatrice and her sister harlots to investigate.

In July James Blaylock has another Langdon St. Ives adventure: The Ebb Tide. (See my post at GLW on the collection of St. Ives stories published late last year. Here's the description on the new book:

A flaming meteor over the Yorkshire Dales, a long-lost map drawn by the lunatic Bill “Cuttle” Kraken, and the discovery of a secret subterranean shipyard beneath the River Thames lead Professor Langdon St. Ives and his intrepid friend Jack Owlesby into the treacherous environs of Morecambe Bay, with its dangerous tides and vast quicksand pits. They descend beneath the sands of the Bay itself, into a dark, unknown ocean littered with human bones and the remnants of human dreams. In this tale of murder, infamy, and Victorian intrigue, the tides of destiny shift relentlessly and rapidly as the stakes grow ever higher and the pursuit more deadly....

Sub Press has some of JK Potter's interior illustrations up as well. (Potter is doing the cover and interior illustrations on Baker's book also.)

There's a new addition to the World Newton cycle from Philip Jose Farmer and Win Scott Eckert due in September, The Evil in Pemberley House. The description:

The Evil in Pemberley House, an addition to the Wold Newton cycle, plays with the Gothic horror tradition. Patricia Wildman, the daughter of the world-renowned adventurer and crimefighter of the 1930s and ’40s, Dr. James Clarke “Doc” Wildman, is all alone in the world when she inherits the family estate in Derbyshire, England—old, dark, and supposedly haunted.

But Farmer, characteristically, turns convention on its ear. Is the ghost real, or a clever sham? In Patricia Wildman, Farmer creates an introspective character who struggles to reconcile the supernatural with her rational scientific upbringing, while also attempting to work through unresolved feelings about her late parents. He sets the action at Pemberley from Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice and ingrains the various mysteries in the Canon of the Sherlock Holmes stories.

Jo Walton reviewed Jenny Davidson's The Explosionist over at the Tor blog yesterday and while it is a very good and well written review, she did bring up an issue that struck a chord with me, namely whether or not science fiction and fantasy elements can be present in the same story. Here's a bit of the review:

Spiritualism—and all the apparatus of automatic writing, table tapping, mediums and spirit photography—was indeed an obsession in the 1930s, and earlier, from the mid-Victorian period onwards. (See Angels and Insects for a brilliant modern fictional treatment and Unnatural Death for a contemporary one.) But it didn’t ever actually work, and it couldn’t have ever worked in the real world. Spiritualism was largely a case of people who, as Byatt says, desperately wanted spiritual consolation in a secular age, and were tricked into believing they were getting messages from dead people. It was all fraudulent, as investigator after investigator proved.

This isn’t to say you can’t take it seriously in fiction, and even have it work just as the gullible people in our world believed it did. It’s just that if you do, you’ve moved from science fiction to fantasy. A world in which you can fairly reliably talk to dead people with crystal radios, where licensed spirit photographers can produce evidence admissible in court, and where mediums are not fakes would be a world far more different than one where Napoleon won. Davidson has thought through the consequences of her science fictional changes remarkably well, but of her fantasy ones far less so. It’s unlikely that a world with that kind of relationship with the dead would have been sufficiently like ours through any of its history to ever have got to Waterloo in the first place.

If you haven't read Jenny's book, Walton gives a fine overview of it earlier in her review and it is an alternate history that other than obvious political changes reads as a wonderful piece of fairly traditional (with some fun weirdness) historic fiction. Jenny does rely on spiritualism and communication with the dead for a plot point and certainly this facet of society is respected in the novel. It is not, as it was in our history, a hoax or joke. But does communicating with the dead really push a book over into fantasy? It's not like we're talking flying horses or tiny little fairies here; ghosts have never seemed like full on fantasy to me. And in the book, the ghost aspect is not taken to an extreme; it's communion with the dead and, well, not to get all M Night Shyamalan on you but I've talked to dead people.

More than once.

Okay, I'm Irish (half Irish anyway) and my people see dead people, wake up suddenly thousands of miles away when people die, hear mysterious disembodied voices and one way or another, we have indeed talked to dead people. We also don't wear hats in the house (I have no idea what this is about but there you go) and we completely freak out when a bird flies indoors because it means someone will die and we have stories about how the one event has indeed followed the other. Before you call us crazy remember that we are primarily a people who worship in a religious ceremony where wine is mystically transformed into blood on the altar every week.

Not so crazy now, are we? (And don't even get me started on the saints....)

Walton has a line in her review ("A world in which you can fairly reliably talk to dead people with crystal radios, where licensed spirit photographers can produce evidence admissible in court, and where mediums are not fakes would be a world far more different than one where Napoleon won.") and the minute I read it the name that flew into my head was Joan of Arc. We live in a world that had both Napoleon (winner/loser, not the point here) and also a girl who heard the voices of saints and led an army. We also have the Miracle of Lourdes and the 1917 visions at Fatima...and those are three of the more well known miracles that are held as truth by millions of people the world over. In this world we are living in there are jet planes and the Shroud of Turin and we function just fine, whether you agree with the believers or not.

My point is that there are different kinds of fantasy and some of it - namely mention of ghosts and seances - doesn't seem nearly as fantastical as others, to me anyway. When it comes to The Explosionist I especially don't see the split between Sci Fi and Fantasy as severely as Walton does because the book doesn't read as purely one or the other to me anyway. It is SF primarily because it is alternate history. For the record I have never agreed that alt history is automatically SF. To me SF seems more futuristic than historic and in this particular case you have a world that progressed in a slightly different manner than our own since Napoleon's victory at Waterloo. The differences are sincere but not overly dramatic (some inventions, some politics, some social experiments) but the basics of school and work and men and women dressed in 1930s dress (the time period) are remarkably similar. (We're not talking about giant apes who speak in other words.) It is Sci Fi lite, if anything, and as the fantasy aspects are lite as well what I found while reading The Explosionist is that the story carries you away beyond any constructs.

This is sweeping historic fiction about a girl who uncovers horrifying truths on both a personal and political level and must save both herself and her country. There is also romance and horror (of a Charlotte Perkins Gilman kind) and thrills aplenty. It works beautifully on every level - much as Emma Bull's western/fantasy mash-up Territory also excels superbly as historic fiction about Wyatt Earp and eastern mysticism in Tombstone. (It's wonderful and everyone should read it.)

Sometimes I think we bring too much of our wants and needs about fiction to the table when we read a book. I came to The Explosionist looking for story and it has that in spades. However you want to categorize the book, whatever you want to call the book, don't let the labels give you pause. Some of us talk to dead people and live in the real world; it can happen in literature too, promise.

[I feel compelled to add here that I am a seriously lapsed Catholic but the dead people thing...that I'm not so easily ready to dismiss. :) ]

IO9 has to have up two of the silliest pieces I have read on YA literature in ages. One is about SF YA being good and the other, of course, is about it being bad. Talk about recycling the exact same arguments for and against YA classification that have been out there for ages. The only thing I could figure is that the folks in the SF community apparently don't read a single thing that hasn't appeared a dozen times somewhere else - these two really do think they are saying something new.

Yet again I have to wonder why they don't actually have someone actively involved in teen publishing, or working with teens in libraries or bookstores to write on this topic. If I read one more comment from someone stating they were reading Asimov or Herbert or Dick at the age of 10 and thus, decrying the need for literature aimed at teens, then I will be violently ill.

I mean seriously, must it always come down to this same he said/she said sort of argument?

They never know why the designation of YA exists, they never know who designates a book YA or not, they don't understand why a teen would want to write a book aimed at their age group, they think a YA will make readers feel disenfranchised, they think it is some sort of sub genre of the "real" genre. Here's from the silly "against YA" piece:

If we really want to open science fiction up to new readers, we won't do it by dividing our audience up into smaller and smaller groups. Nor will we expand the minds of young people by telling them that they should only read specially-designated novels for young people. Why not admit that teens have a place in the world of adult imagination, and vice versa? Adults and teens are different in all kinds of ways, but surely they can meet in the world of fiction. Since so much scifi is about changing the future, it seems crucial that this genre forge alliances between youth and adults. We'll build a better space-faring species together if we don't deliberately create generational barriers where they aren't necessary.

And from the equally silly "for YA" piece:

The readership of "regular" science fiction books is a defined group of people with a shared set of interests, who dress a particular way and talk in a "nerd accent." The readership of YA books is anyone of a particular age. So, in a sense, YA books have a more diverse readership and are more welcoming to outsiders. Grown-ups might feel silly reading a Scott Westerfield book on the subway, but there's really nothing to stop you doing it anyway.

Here's an idea - why doesn't everyone just grow up and stop talking about this and let teens read what they want; whether a publisher designates it YA or not. (And really, that is what they are quite happily doing anyway.)

UPDATED: There's a small conversation building on this over at Boing Boing.