by Scott

First Line: Sanshirō

There are going to be a few thematic spoilers to this book, but I’ll be careful not to spoil too much for those who want to read Sanshirō.

“He drifted off, and when he opened his eyes the woman was still there.”

Despite its simple appearance, this is a really great first line. Even without being informed by the rest of the novel, we can learn a lot about Sanshirō as a character from this opener. If we build the imagery of what is happening here in our minds, we see that Sanshirō took enough interest in the woman nearby to notice her, but allowed himself to drift off to sleep. When he does awake from his brief rest, he immediately notices the woman again.

What does this mean? Clearly women are something of interest to Sanshirō, evident by the fact that nothing else about his surroundings is mentioned as he falls asleep, or as he wakes up. And yet, there is something about the choice of the word “still” that implies Sanshirō is not entirely comfortable with the woman nearby. As though by closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep Sanshirō  hoped the woman would be gone by the time he woke up.

This, as we will see throughout the rest of the book, is a perfect representation of Sanshirō’s relationship with women. They are interesting and alluring, full of mystery and worthy of attention. However, these same qualities fill Sanshirō with uncertainty, confusion, and even fear at times. You can see throughout the book moments when he wants to close his eyes with the hope that, when he opens them again, things will be more calm, more like the rural world he grew up in.

Sōseki does a great job with this first line, filling it with all the tension that Sanshirō will face throughout the rest of the book (both from women and more generally from his transition to Tokyo). Most of this wasn’t evident to me when I initially started the book, at least not consciously, but even without knowledge of the events to come, I think this opener does a great job in setting the tone and giving some insight into Sanshirō from the outset.

by Scott

Brilliance of the Moon

It isn’t a good sign when you start a review of a book as follows: There’s something about writing a bad review that is always easier than writing a good review. If you ask me why my favorite books are my favorites, my discussion will devolve into mumblings about them being ‘so good’. Mediocre, unforgettable books can also be troublesome to articulate. But whenever I come across a book that I think is full of flaws and that I generally dislike, I feel like I could write for hours. Such is Brilliance of the Moon, the third book in the Tales of the Otori series by Lian Hearn.

I’ve thought a lot over the last week about why I didn’t enjoy this book, especially since I enjoyed so much about the first in the series. I think part of the answer is in the question itself: I really liked the first book, so my expectations were high for the rest of the series. Ok, that’s fair, but why did the second and third not meet my high expectations?

In the first I enjoyed the magic and mystery surrounding the Tribe abilities, I enjoyed watching Takeo learn about them and himself, and I enjoyed the tension surrounding the decisions he was forced to make in respect to the teaching so Shigeru, the Tribe, and his mother.

In this book, however, there is no discovery or mystery surrounding the abilities. They are suddenly taken for granted. Perhaps Takeo no longer finds them interesting, but there are numerous other characters who do. A great example is Taku, the son of Shizuka. At one point Takeo even remarks about how he wants Taku to be the first of many children spies. Now that sounds interesting – why not pursue the avenue of Takeo as the teacher instead of the student? How would he teach compared to the Tribe? Would he instill compassion and mercy in his students, instead of the cruelty the Tribe taught? This is a much more interesting dilemma compared to hundreds of pages of Takeo running from Arai.

I have numerous other complaints about the book, and you can read those in the spoiler-filled database entry. Suffice it to say, I do not recommend this book, no matter how much you may have enjoyed Across the Nightingale Floor.

by Scott

eBook Library Lending: You’re Doing it Wrong

The LA Times recently posted an article about how Penguin has pulled their eBooks from overdrive, meaning they are no longer available to borrow from many libraries (including my own). It seems to me everyone (except maybe the libraries who probably are actually interested in helping people read more digital books) is doing something wrong with library lending.

First, Publishers: why do you force such strict DRM on library eBooks? If I wanted to steal your book (which I don’t), I certainly wouldn’t be going to the library to do so. I’m going there because it’s a simple, legal, and locally supportive thing to do. So don’t put restrictive DRM on the item you claim you want me to read that prevents me from putting it on whatever device I want.

In the same way, Amazon: don’t be so restrictive on the types of eBooks I can put on my Kindle. It’s fully capable of handling ePub books, and the more you get me using the device by allowing it to read anything the more likely I am to buy future books from Amazon.

Amazon: don’t require that I have to go to your website to check something out from my library in order to read it on my Kindle. But on that same issue, Publishers: let’s not pretend like you are “protecting” me from Amazon by complaining about how borrowing a Kindle book from the library sends me to Amazon to complete the transaction. I already have a Kindle, and I’m used to managing my books there. It’s not as though I didn’t know the site existed and I’m suddenly going to start buying books there (why is this a bad thing anyway?) just because I spent two seconds there while checking out a library book.

Libraries: keep doing everything you can to help me get books from you, in whatever format you can. You guys are rock stars. What are your thoughts? Have you ever checked out an eBook from the library?

by Scott

The Bartimaeus Trilogy

I picked up The Amulet of Samarkand last year, the first book in the Bartimaeus trilogy, on a total whim. No one recommended it, and I knew nothing about the book or its author. I simply needed a new audio book and the description looked interesting enough. Grabbing a book like this can be risky, but when it pays off, it’s great. Reading an excellent book with no preconceived notions is one of my things as a reader.

The premise: Nathaniel is an up and coming wizard in London. The twist in this magical world, however, is magicians get their power from enslaving demons from “the other place”. Bartimaeus is one such demon, or a djinni to be more specific, who Nathaniel summons early on in his magical career. This makes for an interesting story in and of itself, but what makes the Bartimaeus trilogy so great is Bartimaeus himself.

The books transition between being told from third-person omniscient for “Nathaniel” chapters and first-person for “Bartimaeus” chapters. Of course, if you ask Bartimaeus he might tell you that his sections are from an omniscient perspective as well, such is his charming over-confidence. He’s sarcastic, ironic, and just unreliable enough to make sure you’re always paying attention.

These transitions work well thanks to Stroud’s ability to bring Nathaniel, Bartimaeus, and numerous other characters to life, each with their own unique voice. As the story progresses throughout the three books, Stroud puts a few twists on this formula, but they are such magical moments that I would feel horrible spoiling them here.

I should also note that Simon Jones, the narrator of the audio version, does a fantastic job of capturing the subtle differences in tone between the different chapter types, especially when it comes to depicting the wild vanity and allure of Bartimaeus versus the cold ambition of Nathaniel. I’d like to think that my own imagination would have envisioned the djinni with as much style and clarity as Jones’s narration, but it certainly wouldn’t have done a better job. While the second book in the trilogy is not quite as good as the first, the third is such a strong conclusion to the series that in the end it is worth it.

I’m sure this series is categorized as “young adult”, but I almost find that unfair. Stroud’s writing is as sophisticated and well-crafted as any “adult” book, and deserves recognition from readers of all ages. If you are looking for a new audio book, or even just a new fantasy series that presents a fresh twist on the genre, you really must read the Bartimaeus trilogy.

I saw recently that there is a fourth book in the series, a sort of prequel, but the whole trilogy finishes with such completeness, that I actually don’t know if I want to read this new book. What if it isn’t as good? What if it ruins the happy feeling you get when you finish such a wonderfully crafted work of fiction? For now, at least, I’m not going to read it. Maybe when the memory of this last book has faded slightly I will get to the prequel. But until then, I am content.

by Scott

The Problem with eBook Pricing

I received a Kindle Touch for Christmas and over the last month I’ve read four books on it. I absolutely love reading on the Kindle and would actually prefer to read every book on the device if I had the choice. There are several reasons why:

  • The Kindle is lighter than even the lightest paperback
  • I can look up the definition of words instantly
  • I can highlight passages and take notes without needing a pen and notebook nearby.
  • Highlighted passages and notes can be manually or automatically sent to my computer for easy inclusion in database entries or blog posts
  • I can carry around hundreds of books in my pocket
  • The font size is always exactly how I want it.

There are still lots of great things about reading a physical book, such as the smell, the feel, the cover art, but in general, I do think the actual experience of reading a book on a Kindle is superior. So, if that’s the case, why have the last three books I’ve purchased been paperbacks? Easy – the pricing on the Kindle editions of books is completely ridiculous. Publishers seem to completely miss the point of electronic editions of books, and all it is doing is hurting them in the long run.

If I’m going to purchase a book, there are many things I consider: price, look and feel of the book (cover art, page thickness, size), and condition (new or used). I always prefer new to used, and I’m willing to pay a higher price for a higher quality edition of a book with non-movie inspired cover art. However, I won’t hesitate to buy used if it’s in good condition and the price is right. There’s no magic formula, I simply make a decision at the time of purchase.

And here is where the pricing of eBooks is currently failing – eBooks aren’t competing against only the new hard cover price of books. They aren’t competing against the new price of books at all – they are competing against the best price of a book in the condition that I want to read it in. Whether that condition is new or not doesn’t really matter to me. Is it used, but has better cover art? Then that’s the one I want. Is it digital, but a great price? Then that’s the one I want.

I think that’s why, despite all the positives about reading the electronic version of a book, I won’t pay the same price or more for the Kindle version. Why won’t I pay even the same price? I’m not opposed to owning goods digitally – my Steam collection of games is well over one hundred now, and I prefer to buy all music as .mp3s. I firmly believe the digital edition of a product has worth as a consumer as long as I can consume it in the way I want to, when I want to. Games, music, and books all fit that requirement.

At the same time, as a savvy, price-conscious consumer, I also realize that the electronic copy of a book costs the publisher less money to produce than the physical copy. So why should I pay more for what costs them less? Plus (and here’s another reason why Publishers should be pricing their books to compete with used copies), why buy the electronic version when I can a physical copy that I could choose to sell or give away if I don’t like it?

Instead, however, publishers are pricing electronic versions at the same price, or typically higher, than the physical version. Now they’ve lost the electronic sale which would not only have given higher revenue share than the physical, but also given me the opportunity to resell that book at a later date, further reducing their potential revenue in the future. And guess what else? If you are selling your eBooks at reasonable prices, I’m way more likely to take a chance on an unknown book or author because my total budget for books suddenly goes further.

Another way to look at this is if I have $50 to spend on books, and in the traditional model the publisher gets half of what I spend on books, then they get $25 of my total budget. Chances are good that’s about 5 books. However, if they sell eBooks at better prices, I can suddenly get 10 books with the same budget, and the publisher (who gets 70% on Amazon), now makes $35. This is a win-win for everyone.

While this isn’t rigorously scientific, I took a look at a handful of books I would currently like to read, and would happily buy if they were priced appropriately. The only requirement I had for this list was there had to be a Kindle edition available, and the used copy had to be in at least Good condition or above.

Title Best New Price Cheapest (with shipping) Kindle New-Kindle Savings Cheapest-Kindle Savings My Suggested Kindle Price
Kokoro $10.20 $10.20 $12.99 $2.79 $2.79 $8.99
The Abolition of Man $9.59 $5.99 $9.99 $0.40 $4.00 $5.99
1Q84 $18.87 $18.74 $14.99 -$3.88 -$3.75 $14.99
A Song of Ice and Fire $8.96 $7.08 $8.99 $0.03 $1.91 $6.99
The Magicians of Caprona $4.77 $3.56 $5.99 $1.22 $2.43 $3.49
On Stories $11.17 $11.17 $8.79 -$2.38 -$2.38 $8.79
Kusamakura $11.92 $9.47 $11.99 $0.07 $2.52 $8.99
The Winter of Our Discontent $7.94 $4.99 $12.99 $5.05 $8.00 $4.99
Tortilla Flat $7.83 $4.00 $9.99 $2.16 $5.99 $3.99
The Best of H.P. Lovecraft $8.93 $3.94 $11.99 $3.06 $8.05 $3.99
Norweigan Wood $10.20 $9.20 $11.99 $1.79 $2.79 $8.99

As you can see, only with 1Q84 and On Stories is the Kindle price better than the cheapest edition. And one of these books is new, and the other relatively obscure. Now, if you were to take my suggested price into consideration, the Kindle edition suddenly becomes a great deal. You get a new copy of the book, in a great format for reading, for the lowest possible price. It’s even a good deal for the publisher because, with Amazon’s 70% revenue share, they still make more than they probably do for the new paperback copy.

Going back to my original $50 budget, if I buy new I can get 5 books. If I buy used, I can get 6 books, but the publisher gets nothing, so obviously they don’t want that. If my suggested Kindle prices were in place, I would be able to get 7 books, which is obviously the best option for me. Plus since I’ve purchased 2 additional books, chances are more unique publishers have made money off me than in the new paperback scenario.

It’s also worth noting that every Kindle sale means one less potential used sale in the future because I can’t resell the Kindle version. If book publishers are anything like video game publishers, they must hate used sales. And if that’s the case, why aren’t they using electronic books as a way to supplant them?

There are some new publishers who seem to understand the changing eBook landscape, and are pricing their titles appropriately. The big ones aren’t, though, and it’s driving people like me, who will happily pay good money for books, away from the version that will make the publisher the most profit. Hopefully they will eventually understand that eBooks are competing more with used books than new, but until that time, don’t expect me to buy any.

by Scott

Giant Thief

Note: An electronic copy of Giant Thief was provided to me for review by the publisher Angry Robot Books.

Easie Damasco is a scoundrel and an thief, and everyone seems to want him dead. Despite near constant threats to his life, nothing deters him from continuing his life of crime at every possible moment. As a result, Giant Thief is a fast-paced, non-stop action fantasy novel full of comedy that never lets up from beginning to end.

From the first line, we learn a lot of what we can expect from Giant Thief: “The sun was going down by the time they decided to hang me.” This is a great opener – we immediately learn that Easie is the type to look at even the most serious situations in a carefree manner. Also, we see that he’s the type of guy who puts himself in a position where people want him dead. Unfortunately, this quick-draw opening and the subsequent chase actually left me a little bewildered. Who is Easie? Why should I care whether or not he is captured and killed? Even by the end I felt like I had only scratched the surface of understanding Easie as a character.

I had a similar problem with the main villain, Moaradrid. Easie continually referenced the warlord’s evil nature, and was obviously scared of him, but I never felt that fear as a reader. Maybe it was a result of not connecting strongly with Easie, or a lack of information on who Moaradrid was, but I felt more like I was being told the bad guy was bad, rather than seeing it for myself.

In a recent interview Tallerman mentions that he “stripped out more and more of his dialogue with each redraft”, which makes me wonder if perhaps the novel would have worked better had some of this dialogue been left in. I can see the purpose of stripping out “justifications” from the villain, but at the same time if it leaves me questioning the depth of his insanity, the villain becomes neutered.

While it leaves a little to be desired, if you are looking for a funny, fast-paced fantasy adventure that doesn’t rely on cheap magic tricks to get out of every sticky situation, give Giant Thief a shot. Plus Easie is totally a medieval Han Solo, and how often can you say that?

“[T]here are only so many absurd promises you can make to a horse” (357).

Full database entry on Giant Thief. Beware spoilers.

by Scott

Catch-22

You’ve just read a book so good that you want everyone else to read it immediately, but you know that if you approach the subject with too much enthusiasm, you risk overselling the book and causing the opposite outcome. In fact, the more you say, the more likely you’ll mention something that person hates about books, thus ensuring they never read it. Or, in your haste and excitement, you might offer your own rash interpretation, implying the book is about something it isn’t, and thereby cause yet another person to pass on a wonderful piece of literature. Such is the unresolvable dilemma I find myself in with Catch-22.

Suffice it to say, I absolutely loved reading this book. It starts slowly, as Heller’s writing style (and the way he jumps back and forth through time) has its own unique rhythm. Once you grow accustomed to it, however, it becomes utterly engrossing. This is an especially odd thing to say because there’s nearly zero plot in the book. Instead, it focuses almost entirely on characters, and the crazy, bizarre, emotional, disturbing, horrifying, hilarious antics that fill their lives during war.

Yes, Catch-22 is a book about war. Or rather, it is a book that takes place during war. Don’t be discouraged, though, if you don’t usually gravitate to such books, because it’s more about the people than the fighting.

All I really want to say is please read this book. It is a beautifully crafted work of literature that has easily catapulted into my top 5 favorite books. I cannot wait to read it again, as it really is a masterpiece.

“It was almost no trick at all, he saw, to turn vice into virtue and slander into truth, impotence into abstinence, arrogance into humility, plunder into philanthropy, thievery into honor, blasphemy into wisdom, brutality into patriotism, and sadism into justice. Anybody could do it; it required no brains at all.” (363) – Permanent Link.

Full database entry on Catch-22. Beware spoilers.

by Scott

The Moon is a Harsh Mistress

I read Robert Heinlein’s Stranger in a Strange Land last year and I didn’t enjoy it, despite its strong start. In addition to my disappointment over the book, I was also surprised by the fact that I didn’t like it. Here we had what is considered one of the greatest science fiction books of all time, and all I can do is criticize it for being heavy-handed and dull. Shouldn’t this be exactly the kind of thing I love to read?

Since my experience with Stranger last year, I really had no intention of reading anything else by Heinlein. Still, he is considered a master in the genre and there were definitely some promising aspects to Stranger. And if C.S. Lewis is right when he says you can’t criticize a book the first time to read it (shh…don’t tell him I do that every time), I certainly don’t have the right to ignore everything else by Heinlein just because of one reading of one book.

And a good thing I didn’t give up on him, because everything Stranger gets wrong, The Moon is A Harsh Mistress gets right. Mistress tells the story of Mannie, a computer technician who becomes involved in a rebellion whose goal is to free the residents of the Moon from the tyrannical control of the Authority. Heinlein does a great job of introducing the conflict to us, and sets up a scenario in which there is tension about the ultimate success of the rebellion. While this aspect of the book is good, it’s certainly not what really makes it shine.

What does make The Moon is a Harsh Mistress a great book to read is the depth to which Heinlein goes to create a world in which people don’t just visit the moon, but actually live on the moon. Through the process of exposing how Mannie and his friends coordinate their rebellion, Heinlein subtly and thoroughly shows us what it’s like to work, play, marry, love, hate, eat, drink, and make war on the moon. What makes this all great, though, is how his strategy to reveal all this differs from Stranger. Instead of telling us what it’s like to live on the moon, Heinlein shows us, in the small moments between the larger scale of rebellion against earth. It’s subtle, but wonderfully executed, and makes the book a real pleasure to read.

If you’ve ever wondered what it’s like to live on the moon, with a 3:1 male to female population, while attempting to rebel against a heartless Terran government (and really, who hasn’t?) then The Moon is a Harsh Mistress is definitely for you. If, somehow, you haven’t wondered that, I still recommend the book if you enjoy an author who uses great characters and an interesting plot to help us earthworms consider the nuances of something as foreign as Lunar life.

Full database entry on The Moon is a Harsh Mistress. Beware spoilers

by Scott

Pitching Max Werner

Max Werner, 15, can see in the dark – a secret not even his best friend Tom knows. More sly than brave, Max has used his special gift for years to roam the streets of his neighborhood committing petty crimes and various acts of harmless delinquency. He prefers hiding from danger, safe in the shadows that only his sight can penetrate, rather than confronting anything head on.

His misdeeds bring him more than a few stolen goods, however, when he runs across a band of inhuman thieves that don’t take kindly to Max invading their territory. These strange bandits kidnap Max’s little sister as punishment for his indiscretion, forcing him to put what little courage he does have to the test.

Afraid to make the rescue attempt alone, Max must first convince Tom to join the adventure. Even with his perfect night vision, the giant spiders, bottomless pits, and blood-thirsty criminals that stand between Max and his sister may mean that none of them make it out alive.

A Selective History of Max Werner is a young adult adventure for all those who have ever wondered what secrets lay in the deepest shadows, the blackest cave, or the darkest night.

Or so goes the pitch I’m submitting to the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award later this month. It surprised me how difficult writing a pitch like this was. In 300 words or less I need to convince someone who knows absolutely nothing about my book that it’s worth reading more of.

How do I distill everything about the book into so few words? Well, unfortunately, I leave a lot out. No mention of the tension between Jenny (the sister), Max, and Tom, or the pet bird that Max rescues, or the footnotes that litter the book with ironic faux-history, or the evil Boss that leads the band of thieves and is the real villain of the book, or numerous other things that might spoil the story. All of it, gone.

Hopefully that will be enough to get me through to the second round, where the judges read the first 5,000 words of the book and can get a better taste of everything it has to offer. Hopefully! (If you have any suggestions for how I can improve the pitch, feel free to offer them below.)

In the meantime if you are interested in reading A Selective History of Max Werner you can find it on amazon. The Kindle version will be free as often as I can make it, so keep an eye on my twitter for when those deals go live. If you don’t have a Kindle eReader (or don’t want to wait until the next free offer) and want to check the book out, just leave a comment below or message me on twitter.

Special thanks to Jocelyn Mathewes for the amazing cover art.

by Scott

The Dragon Rider

The Dragon RiderThe Dragon Rider by Cornelia Funke

My rating: 1 of 5 stars

I think it’s important to note that I listened to the audio version of this book because it is, without a doubt, the reason I disliked it so much. Funke’s story seems pretty good, and if I had read it, I imagine it would have been closer to 3 or 4 stars.

However, it must be said that the narrator Brendon Fraser is, unequivocally, the worst narrator I have ever heard in the 150+ audio books I have listened to over the last few years. Here are just a few examples of why he is so bad:

1. He smacks his lips and chews loudly when characters are eating.
2. He coughs, moans, grunts, squeals, etc. even when the text does not imply these things are happening.
3. When the text does note coughing, etc. he exaggerates them needlessly and tediously.
4. Every piece of dialogue is overacted and extravagant for no reason.

My guess is that Fraser doesn’t actually enjoy reading, and so he feels the need “spice up” the book in order to make it entertaining. Maybe others who don’t often read would enjoy this type of narration, but it was endlessly frustrating and nearly impossible to get through in spite of an interesting plot. If you are interested in this book, please don’t listen to the audio version.

View all my reviews