What's Wrong With This Series?

There is a liberating moment in the Southern Vampire Mysteries where Sookie Stackhouse realizes she doesn't have to live this way. She's been abducted and (yet again) maimed. She stumbles out of a cornfield into a blinding array of headlights. Humans have come to rescue her. The humans she disdained in Dead Until Dark, the humans whose thoughts have driven her to seek out paranormal beings, these humans are also the ones who run after an abducted girl. Over the course of Dead Ever After Sookie examines what she needs from life and who meets those needs. To the anguish of fan girls everywhere, the answer is not an abusive undead lover. Sookie chooses the imperfections of human life and a (mostly) human mate in her search for reliability and security. For me, unlike most, this redeemed what had been a deeply problematic ride.

Eve Duncan is another heroine with lovers vying for a place by her side as she endured multiple assaults and horrors. Even a stone cold series finisher like myself couldn't make it to Bonnie, the allegedly final chapter in the actually ongoing Eve Duncan Chronicles. Humanity wasn't enough for Johansen. She raises her I See My Dead Daughter ante with other paranormal aspects late in the game. What started life as a compelling series rooted in reality became mired in international government conspiracies, super humans and paranormal abilities. The Eve Duncan Chronicles was a total bait and switch. A dominant theme of this, like so many popular romantic suspense series, was mutilated women and children.

In the Charley Davidson series I'm experiencing a blend of both these worlds. Like Sookie, Charley is put through a horrific ordeal with each book. Tortured, beaten, sexually assaulted, Charley never makes it to the final pages intact. People she trusted betrays her. Her lover abuses her and withholds information. Unlike Harris, Jones appears committed to her core couple. No matter what information Reyes has withheld from Charley or what peril he places her in, the omgsohot sex will let Charley forgive him. There is a scene in every book where Reyes saves her from something, giving the swooning reader a chance to excuse whatever Reyes has done or will do to Charley outside of that action. The reader is told how protective and good Reyes is, an abusive past is trotted out to excuse dysfunctional treatment.

Robards, formerly one of my favorite authors, launched her Charlotte Stone series last year. The heroine is haunted by a dead serial killer who she finds sexually compelling despite the living and non criminal man in front of her. I panned the book but readers strongly defended it. There were hints laid that the serial killer might have been innocent. He. Might. Have. Been. Innocent. Maybe. Meanwhile, he was absolutely convicted. He absolutely played creepy mind games with Dr. Stone during their pre-death encounters. After surviving the required near death terror porn experience, Charlotte rejects the living supportive man in front of her for the less than honest dead guy who probably killed girls for kicks in her head. This is past Bad Boy Romance and deep into Toxic Self Destruction.

Remember Batgirl? Daughter of a cop, crime fighter, lover of Robin? In The Killing Joke DC made the controversial choice to break her spine. The Joker raped her and left her for dead. Afterward, she was faced with the long road to recovery. Her mental and physical changes were played out over years of story as she rebuilt herself into Oracle, a chair bound superhero who relied on her mind to perform the tasks her body used to. Barbara underwent a traumatic experience with real effects. She emerged a different but still highly capable woman. She did not start dating the Joker. In 2011 DC made the even more controversial choice to magically heal her and restore Barbara to the cowl as Batgirl. The Oracle, a more powerful character to many, was erased. I had complicated feelings about that (and other choices). DC and I broke up after many, many (many!) years together.

Where are our series with men who suffer unimaginable abuse and are still instantly hot for it? Where are our heroines who lie, abuse, mistreat and rage at our hero but are forgiven via their sad childhood? Why do we want to read about women being broken and men who make their burden heavier? I've lost count of the ways women or children are imperiled in romantic suspense. Girls in cages, books told from the killer's POV, girls buried alive, paranormal heroines having their skin peeled off, rapes and torture abound. Are these empowering because the heroine triumphs over an exaggerated version of real world horrors? Does the failure of the heroine to succumb to life ending injuries reinforce the lie that horror can never happen to us? Does her refusal to demand honesty and support from her problematic partner reinforce the message that wanting this in our own lives is unreasonable? We can be beaten. We can be tortured. We can undergo anything, see anything, and we can soothe Man Pain while we do it. Backwards. In heels. It's an incomplete thought, but it's on my mind lately. Extreme Romance (as DA's Robin terms it) may be on the rise but it's roots have been in romance for years.

On the healthier side of the coin we have both Eve Dallas and the Bishop's Special Crimes series. While women are still injured or tortured on the regular, the heroines are promised healthy and unconditional support from their partners. Women injured in the line of work stay injured. There is very little paranormal instant healing. The men generally support their choices and respect their agency. Most importantly, the relationships are mutually supportive. Past abuse is used as motivation or explanation, but never as an excuse or a free pass. These series are romantic suspense without the self hatred, and they are what I look for when I pick up a series. I wish they weren't so damn hard to find. I wish I knew why we (collectively) want the abuse dynamic reinforced in our fiction. If we didn't, it wouldn't sell.

DNF Review: Sins of a Virgin by Anna Randol

Maybe I've burnt out.

Each reviewer has their own personal ARC policy. Mine is that I will review your book if I accept it, but the review might not be to your liking. I will make every effort to finish your book and reserve DNF reviews for purchased items. I try to get all ARC's reviewed within a week of the publication date. I have failed Sins of a Virgin as completely as it failed me. I don't think this one is necessarily Randol's fault. I've been trying to read SOAV for close to a year. I keep stalling out very early in the book. I'm not even really reviewing SOAV. I'm using it to talk about reader reaction.

Madeline is a Secretly Chaste Courtesan who has decided to sell herself to the highest bidder. She hires Gabriel to ensure that the bidder she selects will be able to pay her fee. Gabriel is a Bow Street Runner looking for his sister's killer, some of whom are bidding on Madeline. On paper, this should be a good read for me. I'm okay with the Secretly Chaste Courtesan set up because Madeline is up front about her status (hello, book title!) and her reasons for the auction make sense. Except they don't. This coupled with Gabriel's super moral disapproval derailed me fast and kept me from getting far into the novel.

Madeline has spent ten years working as a government spy because reasons. Despite her service to the government, she is left unable to establish herself properly and therefore makes the choice to auction herself off. Here my reader reaction stops the story from moving forward. How are all these heroines pretending to work in the sex trade without ever suffering a sexual assault? In an age where rape was so common and so hard to prosecute, how are they navigating these men while keeping body and soul intact? How has Madeline worked as a fake courtesan without being tested? This myth that these girls can be trained in seduction, live among men and pass as purchasable goods without being assaulted seems so much in line with the Hermetically Sealed Heroine that I can't turn my mind off. What are we reading when we read about these women? Often (as in another recent DNF read but not this one) the hero is busy obsessing over what a durty durty hurr the heroine is while his employees are inexplicably reacting to her as if she is their better. When the hero realizes she is not a durty hurr and falls to his feet in tearful apology we are supposed to feel... something. Something besides impatience.

On the surface the message of the SCC or HSH is one of redemption. You have misjudged me, you have wronged me, I was not the durty hurr you assumed, but the lost daughter of aristocrats, meant for better things than I have had. As an apology, you may elevate me to my proper status. I shall play Lady Bountiful for your people, who saw what you could not. (If it's true that we read to escape into our privileges, then perhaps my recent problems with these romances has been a misalignment of needs.) I cut my teeth on the romances of the 70's, where a woman wandering alone was a woman moments from a gang rape. While I don't miss the days where love meant a disco floor and an act of violence, I do miss the message that the woman was still loved. At the end of whatever happened to her, she was still worthy. She had value. The hero wanted to be with her for her. She was, as is the core message of romance, enough. So often these days I feel that while the heroine has gotten smarter, stronger, more capable, her actual worth has diminished. He wants her even if she is a durty hurr, but it's ok, because secretly she's not. Even if she's been married before the odds are very good he was gay or impotent or drunk. Even if half the men in town claim to have banged her like a townie against a dumpster, it's all a lie. She is too good for that.

If she's good, what are the rest of us? If the message of the 70's and 80's was Stand By Your Man and As Long As He Loves Me, what is the message of the 90's and 00's? Is Madeline a virgin because she's more deserving than the other girls? Because she's smarter, as though being clever can provide safety from predators? What made her immune from being used in every way a tool is used in a time when she would have been so very disposable? I give Madeline credit for honesty - she has decided to exchange her body for money. She will do whatever she is required to do to meet the goal she's set for herself. I'd like to stick around long enough for Gabriel to tell her to tun off the red light, but I haven't been able to. My brain won't stop asking questions the book can't possibly answer.

DNF Review: When You Give a Duke a Diamond by Shana Galen

I've been doing a lot of DNF reading lately. Sometimes I set a book aside and try again. Sometimes I soldier on, carried aloft by the wave of hate reading. It's pretty rare that I hit a book two, three, four times and just say forget it. (2013 has not been a good year for me.) Lord & Lady Spy was the first Galen I abandoned. When You Give a Duke a Diamond is the second.

Meet Juliette. She's famous for being famous. She plays men off each other, collecting their offerings of wealth. She has a scandalous protector who is actually, um, something that gets revealed in the part of the book I didn't read. In the first half he's off the page. Apparently she and two other women are pretending to be his lover. He sets them up with the cash and the flash and they're going to find aristocratic husbands. Because that is the natural outcome of life at the high end of the sex trade. (If the Hermetically Sealed Heroine had a cousin, she'd be the Secretly Chaste Courtesan.) Juliette is divorced yet oddly eager to reenter the matrimonial state. Given that Juliette's ex husband is a scary abusive creep I would've expected her to have some reluctance. Perhaps, with her gift for social climbing, she might have considered actually becoming a courtesan. In that life she would have an escape hatch. But this is a tale where abuse issues are excuses for bonding. Or bondage. We'll get to that.

Juliette meets William in a series of nonsensical events. They aren't just tedious to follow, they don't pass the logic test. William leaves his fiancee on the balcony. When he returns she is missing. Juliette claims the woman has been murdered. There is a bullet in the wall and no sign of dead fiancee. Since dead fiancee has been having extramarital sex (unlike Juliette) no one but her parents worry much about this. William wavers between believing Juliette and repudiating her. They engage in some public scenes where neither of them are terribly lucid. Juliette runs to William (whom she barely knows) for protection from a known threat rather than the men she already has on the string. Once forced into his life, she challenges him at every step with such stunningly tone deaf antisocial behavior that my sympathy began shifting to her ex husband. Juliette wears entitlement like a perfume. Bravado or not, it's shocking when William begins craving her company. Of course, William is a Duke. And Juliette is known as The Duchess, one of the Three Diamonds who are the alleged lovers of the Earl of Sin.

I just typed that. With my fingers. I could insert a lecture on the mine cut diamonds of the pre-1900 era and the frequency of foil backing as a method to improve their appearance, but I will just bow to the De Beers machine and move on.

William has OCD from his abusive father's questionable parenting methods. Rather than act like almost every formerly abused child I've ever known (and I've known plenty) William acts like the Abused Child of Fiction. He cannot be free. He lives his life, despite unimaginable access to power and resources, in the narrow constraints his father dictated. He upholds the order bequeathed to him without question. Having been unloved, he does not form attachments. He is a stern and rigid man. He and Juliette bond over tales of - what is the word for dog murder? Is there such a word? Canineicide? Anyway, they had a puppy and then they didn't and it was their fault for being such bad, bad boys and girls. (Take a moment here to wonder why William didn't buy a litter of puppies to piss on his father's grave daily.) Dead dogs mean I love you. Or something. Soon Juliette is introducing Surprise Bondage to their lives and trying my nerves in new and inventive ways. Someone attempts to rape her. Is it the guy who killed William's forgotten fiancee? Is it Juliette's ex husband? (She not only dismisses that possibility she fails to share  the thought.) I suddenly realized I didn't care. I was more interested in the dead fiancee than either of the people pretending to look for her.

Review: Detective Honey Bear by Alex Zalben and Josh Kenfield

I'm a big fan of the curiosity comic. You know, the books that you can't quite believe came out. Sam and Max, the original and revived Angel and the Ape, Cereal Killers... maybe even 3 Geeks. Comics that don't quite fit any particular mold but keep you entertained. Add Detective Honey Bear to that list. I discovered it through a free issue offering on comiXology and immediately ordered the second volume. Apparently this was a 2012 Kickstarter intended to fund three issues, the last of which may or may not ever see print. At two issues for a buck it's well worth checking out.

This is an all ages comic (I know!) with a slight noir feel. It's a send up of the mystery series where the detective drags out the answer with an endless trail of partially false clues before finally declaring the solution. Honey Bear's partner is a step behind him all through the book. Exasperated, overworked and far from stupid, he's forced to play the straight man to Honey Bear's need for drama. Detective Honey Bear has enunciation issues that make sense for the character but may cause a young reader to stumble. I could have done without the obligatory scat joke in each issue, but the younger market loves being repulsed so it's probably a smart inclusion. It's a little bit Scooby Doo, a little bit 1950's television. I was completely charmed. (The kids are still working on figuring out what Honey Bear is saying, but they have trouble with Donald Duck and Carl Banks did just fine.)

Review: Dead Ever After by Charlaine Harris

I pushed Dead Ever After up the TBR list to answer one question and one question only. "Can 437 one star reviews be wrong?" The answer is yes, yes they can. I liked Dead Ever After as much as any chapter in the Sookie Stackhouse series. Harris is the nickelodeon of popular authors. You drop your penny in and she slowly starts moving. You know what you're going to hear. It's not the smoothest or most polished rendition, but it's reliable and recognizable. Before you're ready she's ground to a halt and everything is silent.

So yes, I think Dead Ever After is not only a fitting end to the Sookie Stackhouse saga but also the only ending (short of Sookie's death) that fits the trajectory of the series. I worried Sookie would never get here, I worried Harris was taking so many side roads she'd get lost, but eventually she worked it out. I could review the book properly, but Robin/Janet has covered most of the points I'd make. I am far more interested in those 437 (and counting) one star reviews, as well as the passion driving down votes of positive reviews.

"To be honest, I would have been more satisfied had Eric kidnapped Sookie determined to turn her against her will"

"He is left emasculated and victimized."

"Like Harris' main character, Sookie Stackhouse, I, as a reader, feel raped, abused, and betrayed."

"I think you got personally offended by your fans LOVE OF ERIC. So you don't want them to be a couple instead you want Sookie to be a narrow minded racist"

"He was the knight on the white horse, always there to protect her."

"but coouldn't she be artificially inseminated and still be Eric's wife???"

"Charlaine Harris KNEW the majority of her fans read this book series because WE ALL LOVED ERIC AND SOOKIE!!! KNEW IT!!! And did she care? No. She just wrote what she wanted. "

Within the series Sookie frequently showed contempt for the Fangbangers. These are humans who hang around vampires hoping to be turned, hoping to be fed upon, hoping that the vampires will fleetingly notice them. Sookie herself is a Fangbanger, something she doesn't initially realize. Her relationships with Bill and Eric are abusive. They pass her around like a party favor. They save her from situations they created. (These situations often benefited them.) Because Eric is written as attractive (George Wickham in The Lizzie Bennett Diaries?) and says pretty things when he needs to, Sookie gives him a pass. On the page Eric is ruthless and power hungry. Other vampires fear him. He sets up multiple controls over Sookie's emotions and person while assuring her he respects her agency. He withholds information. He expects to be her priority while keeping her his option. Eric's power grab is presented to Sookie as out of his control, yet he not only does nothing to stop it he negotiates multiple benefits to himself. Eric ends the book in a position of expanding power while Sookie ends the book having refused to be his piece on the side. She has come to understand which of her relationships are toxic and which are truly supportive. Sookie places a value on herself that she long denied. In doing so she sees the esteem others hold her in. It's a classic coming of age story.

Sookie was never a good match for a vampire. She loves the sun. She wants to do the right thing, even when she doesn't know what that is. She craves family and tradition and shuns political power games. She is a Christian down to her toes. While she is attracted to the novelty of the vampire world it's daily reality repels her. When Sookie takes stock of what makes her happy, where she finds contentment, it becomes clear that the undead can't provide it. Many readers are reacting to this rejection as a rejection of them by the writer. ("She just wrote what she wanted.") I am pleased that what Harris wanted to write was a woman recognizing her own value.

The abusive (but loving) hero is a popular narrative in romance. Readers who respond to it emotionally will excuse away any action by the hero. "He did it for her own good. He was protecting her. He had no choice. He really loves her, though. In the end, he saved her. She is different from those other girls. He just had to find the right person." It is a rare book that examines the psychology and structure of domestic abuse. The common fictional answer is that if the heroine will just love him enough then he will change. Because love is magic. I appreciate that for all her structural flaws (and Harris will admit she has them) she loved Sookie more than Team Eric did. Harris has shown the predator in Eric and Bill all along, it is Sookie and the reader who refused to see it.

Review: Dear Girls Above Me by Charlie McDowell

Please don't buy this book.

I mean, you can absolutely buy this book if you so desire. Possibly you have it on preorder right now. I'm sure Charlie McDowell has bills to pay. He would probably be delighted if you ordered this book in triplicate or quadruples or whatever multiple met your perceived needs. I am begging you to wait. Read a sample chapter first. Consider a library hold. If we get the books we deserve, then collectively we've done something wrong and we need to fix it before Dear Girls Above Me bags a series order.

"I tugged on Marvin's leash, trying to pull him inside. He held his ground, staring up at me with his bulging eyes, as if to say, "Oh hells no, I still gotta take a shiiiiit." For whatever reason I picture Marvin's human voice to be that of a middle-aged African-American woman from the South. I probably should have mentioned that earlier. And it's not racist, because he's a dog." - Dear Girls Above Me (Page 6)

This passage occurs 3 pages after I knew I wanted to spend as little time as possible with Charlie McDowell and 274 pages before we were able to say goodbye. It did not get better. McDowell loves his -isms, his earthy humor and his self aggrandizing self deprecation. The overriding theme of this work is crap. I don't mean that as a descriptive term for the relative quality, although I wouldn't argue very hard if it were so applied. McDowell loves crap. His own, his dog's, the building's plumbing. If it's fecal, he's all about it. Record for lit farts? McDowell is on it. He's also about other people having sex. His narrator likes to listen, no matter the sounds. It's ok for him to feel superior to everyone he depicts because he holds himself in the highest loathing. Or something like that. McDowell fails at the ultimate responsibility of a humorist. He isn't funny. What may have worked in 140 characters falls apart stretched to novel length.

This may be the perfect book for you. It's possible I just described your dream read. Please proceed with all haste and purchase Dear Girls Above Me for your very own. Just don't ask me to join the book club.

Review: Shadow Woman by Linda Howard

Howard and I had totally broken up. If Picasso had a blue period or Van Gogh a sunflower obsession, Howard has been exploring reconstructed women. Her heroines live under assumed identities, waking up in bodies that aren't theirs, reincarnated after the hero (!) kills them to begin their reinvention. I haven't begrudged her the theme. We broke up over the men. (Death Angel. Enough said.) Howard crossed from Alpha Bond style books to Alpha Hole abuse glorification. We couldn't be together. Enter Shadow Woman.

Let me set the scene. Me. The public library. An hour to kill with a dead e-reader. I decide to hate read Howard one more time, just for the memories. Like that I fell back in love. In Shadow Woman Howard takes the elements she hasn't been able to stop working with and frees them from the cycle of abuse. She still has a heroine with a vague memory she might have been someone else. She still has an Alpha hero who kills as easily as he breathes. The difference between Shadow Woman and her other recent books is so simple, so basic and yet so vital to my reading experience. It's respect. The hero respects the heroine. The author respects the heroine. The heroine is in a situation she chose to be in. She is forced to rely on her own instincts and intelligence to feel her way through a dangerous new reality. The heroine is not reformed or repentant, she is self accepting. This is about her reclamation of her identity as she comes to terms with past events. I kind of loved it.

Shadow Woman not a romance. It is a romantic suspense with the classic Howard elements. A cartoonish disregard for human life, covert groups, government conspiracies, the people who make paranoid people look naive. The hero and heroine don't truly meet until the last pages of the book. Their story is told by his distant concern for her and her struggle to remember him. This is a book about waking up crazy and slowly coming to understand that you are not insane but imprisoned. The heroine's struggle to define herself, to identify the core parts of her personality inside the shell, are the focus of Howard's tale. This is a book that reminds me why I started reading her in the first place. I'm going to pretend the last few years didn't happen and reinvest in Linda Howard. Shadow Woman proves that libraries still have a place in reader discoverability.

Review: The Girl With The Cat Tattoo by Theresa Weir

My intention was to love The Girl With The Cat Tattoo.  Other people (people I like and generally agree with) loved it. The cover is absolutely adorable. It's all chick lit and friendly and hipster cool. With a few changes I would have absolutely adored Weir and signed on for her back catalogue. As published, I don't think Weir is for me. I was moved to tweet a few times while reading, here's the first one.

Meoskop ‏@meoskop30 Apr

Reading Girl w/ Cat Tattoo. Heroine thinks about taking cat to work. Few pages later, hero suggests it. Concept new. She should flip back.

I have a two per book WTF limit and Weir handily exceeded it. She alternates between grounding her characters firmly in reality and taking them so far into Romancelandia that the reader can't follow. The most egregious examples are a television show segment that would have worked well as a dream sequence but blew the book apart for me instead. It set me up to question everything about the last chapter. (Why would he go? Why would he then do that? How would that work, exactly? Why would the host know? How would the host pull that off? Does that even fit who the host is?) There is, of course, a Bad Dude. When the heroine realizes who he is she is placed in a life threatening situation. At the end of it, the Bad Dude just leaves. He knows the hero and heroine are aware of his transgressions. He thinks he has the evidence they were holding. So he... goes home and I go WTF? Then the hero and heroine decide to have a quickie. And I quickly say OMGWTF? After sex, they traipse off to outfox and shut down Bad Dude. I just couldn't. I get that by Romanceland standards this is hardly unprecedented WTFery. I'm not trying for hypocrisy here. When it was good The Girl With The Cat Tattoo was very very good and when it was bad it was sorta awful.

On the positive side, while this wasn't the first romance I've read that used the animal point of view, it was one of the freshest. The heroine has a cupcake affinity and a cosplay bent. She is very of the moment in her thoughts and interests. The hero was pretty standard issue yet honest enough not to love cupcakes just because the heroine is baking. He's not her only hookup, (although he is the only one after they meet). There is no slut shaming or dude shaming of the prior people in her life. She's young, she's single, and she sometimes gets drunk and takes someone home. Sometimes she falls in love too fast, sometimes she prefers the company of her cat to humans. Melody was well conceived and well executed. I felt like she was a girl I might know instead of a Heroine. I can certainly see why Weir is getting accolades. With less WTF moments I'd be raving about The Girl With The Cat Tattoo, but as it stands I doubt I'll check out Book Two. (Why do all books come in threes now? What happened to the single title? Discuss.)

Review: The Other Side Of Us by Sarah Mayberry

*The Other Side of Us is a book with something interesting to say but character choices kept me from caring about it. On the plus side, it's a free read in the Kindle Store so you won't be out anything if you give Mayberry a shot.

This is a book by an Australian author. This became important because some key cultural differences set me up to question the entirety. Plus there are annoying pet scenes. Look, I'll just come out and say it. Their dogs bang before they do and with possibly more enthusiasm. Afterward Oliver acts like his dog has been roofied and sold into the sex trade. It's kind of weird. Whatever, dog subplot, you freaked me out. Oliver is probably overreacting because his wife cheated on him. Finding out his dog is stepping out too was just overload.

Mackenzie was in a life altering car crash but due to her past success as a television producer is not bankrupted by the experience. She has that easy, unthinking affluence of many a romance heroine. When we meet Mackenzie she worries that she's come across as a bitch to Oliver, despite what seemed to be completely reasonable reactions. Oliver likes to come over unannounced. Mackenzie apologizes for pages over her rude inability to drop everything in her life to focus on whatever whim the stranger next door has come up with. She tells him she needs to answer an important call, he keeps talking. I'd be rude to the guy too.

I couldn't get a handle on Mackenzie. At the beginning of the book she is all about doing her rehab. I know a thing or two about post surgical exhaustion. Her nausea, shaking, sudden extreme fatigue all felt real to me. Her obsession with her scars did not. Mackenzie explores her scars with the careful consideration of a fetishist. She's had them for a year - it's not like they're new. Mayberry wants you to know that Mackenzie is weakened by injury, covered in scars, and unable to conduct her normal life. Suddenly Mackenzie is cleaning out sheds, filling wheelbarrows with gravel and taking long walks in the sand. (If you've had your pelvis rebuilt long walks in the sand are very much not on your To Do list.) The first time she has sex she requires special positioning to avoid severe pain from her hip. The rest of the time she's just up for it however. When Mackenzie was vomiting after using her weights I understood why she couldn't return to her job in television production. When she's walking to the grocer and working a shovel I didn't. Mackenzie has a super hot ex who wants her back but never met her needs. I liked him much more than Oliver.

Oliver was almost as absurd as Mackenzie. The guy is a rock star turned studio man. He left his wife several months ago but isn't divorced. When he takes up with Mackenzie his brother has kittens. Long soulful talks about taking things slow and knowing your limits and not rushing in take place. Oliver is completely unlike every rock star I've met or currently know. I started to understand why his wife (who wants him back, of course) cheated on him. He puts the E in Emo. It's a shame I couldn't buy into the leads because Mayberry has a lot to say about reinventing yourself after failure or disappointment. Oliver and Mackenzie both look to the dreams of their youth to form a dream for their future. This apparently involves rejecting commercial success. So to wrap up, unlikeable and unlikely leads, issues of consent in the canine community, exs that want you back so bad, realistic conflicts and a lot of emo flouncing. I might try another Mayberry but this one didn't move me.

Review: Relish by Lucy Knisley

Every book I read this month earned my undying dislike except Relish. I didn't love Relish, but it cleared the bar and for that I salute it. Other people in my life raved about Relish so probably it is way better than I think. I loved the cover. Crisp, clean, graphic, it sets the tone perfectly for these light vignettes from the author's childhood. There are some hyperbolic pull quotes from Big Industry Types hanging out on a clean prairie-esque design. This cover is how you sell me a book.

The interior is as lovely as the exterior. Knisley uses space well. Her art is clean and thoughtful, inviting the reader to linger and appreciate instead of rushing off to the next panel. As an illustrator, she's top notch. I felt the same way looking at one of her pages that I felt reading Herge as a child. (Knisley inspires hyperbolic pull quotes from sporadic bloggers as well.) It's a lovely book.

Content is where I started to fight my Relish love. I appreciated so much (So! Much!) the opportunity to read a coming of age graphic novel that didn't harbor dark secrets or sudden trauma. Knisley beautiful captures the mood of her youth both in the visual representation and her recollection of how things feel when you are at the mercy of people older than you. Each section is themed around a food memory, with an appropriate recipe or cooking tip ending the section. This never feels gimmicky or forced. (It is also unlikely I will ever prepare one. They are more visual than hunger inspiring.) Focused on herself or her mother Knisley tells a strong story. She idolizes her mother. She sees herself in her mother. The changes in their lives that bewildered her at the time added value in the end. When talking about these choices Knisley is on solid ground.

What weakened Relish for me was the inclusion of her father. As a reader, he felt unconnected and out of place to the narrative. Apparently Knisley's parents are Somebody in the food world. Being unfamiliar with them I didn't have the added thrill that might come with peeking behind an idol's curtain. Knisley's depiction of her father reads like an author pulling her punches. I gained little understanding of him as a person or of Knisley's role as his daughter. Relish might have been the stronger for leaving him to another volume. (I also vehemently disagreed with the author's defense of tube dough crescent rolls in a chapter about European croissants, but that's a rant for another day.)

Master Of His Domain

This week I read something on Twitter that made me reconsider a number of cherished beliefs.

Wondering if romancelandia is an escape into privilege and not an escape from reality - @MerrianOW

(I'm not going to define privilege as I trust everyone to do their own reading.)

Merrian stopped me in my tracks. One of the things we frequently discuss in the genre is why certain time periods / plots / races are so popular. What she has said is so blindingly obvious that I'm surprised I haven't considered it sooner. Speaking from my own US perspective, I've often argued that the lack of Civil War based books (as opposed to Napoleonic) is tied into the genre not wanting to deal with slavery now that the plantation novel has fallen out of favor. It did not occur to me that a loss of the privilege in that read - the freedom to have characters so enslaved, to freely treat them as commodities, to have no obligation to turn them into fully developed individuals - was the reason for their demise.

In my own reading I become frustrated with appropriation or racism in the very white section of Romanceland I live in but I don't leave my self defined space very often. I may appreciate a genre novel driven solely by non-white characters but I am unlikely to emotionally connect with it. This is not true of non genre reading, where I am most likely to identify and connect with non-white leads. As well, I am always seeking out the working class historical, but in my contemporary reading affluence is the norm. I appreciate a hero or heroine struggling to balance the budget but a true portrait of life on the edge of (contemporary) poverty doesn't hold me.

Recently I knocked the very popular Jacquelin Thomas for what I saw as a pointless listing of party favors. Looking at that scene (and others from the book) in light of Merrian's comment causes me to revaluate. If I am reading for a restoration of my existing privilege or for access to a higher tier of it, the scene fails. But if I were reading from a different privilege than the ones I currently have (racially and economically) that scene takes on a different meaning. If I had read that scene from a different point in my class history I might have not been so quick to dismiss it as pointless. Yes, it was pointless to the plot, but was it truly pointless to the reading experience of the intended audience? The narrow confines of the genre market make sense if viewed not as escapes from reality, our general perception, but as reinforcements of underlying assumptions of how life should be.

Escaping into one's privilege is not inherently bad. I think it's important to consider this motivation in genre reading because I am fascinated by why we respond to texts the way that we do. In applying this to what is to me the truly bewildering rise (return?) of emotionally abusive relationships in the genre I wonder how privilege could be driving the differing reading experiences. An expectation of emotional safety is a privilege I have never experienced. I cannot assume that Christian / Edward / Tack has anyone's best interests at heart. I cannot assume that they are other than they appear to me on the page - predators. I am not reading from a position of privilege that would allow me to assume such a benign interpretation possible. I find these men conceptually terrifying and the adoration of them by seemingly sensible women inexplicable. Viewed through the lens of varied privilege, the escape these works offer changes. Are they father figures? Patriarchal constructs to be conquered through obedience? Is the strong emotional divide between the fans and the pans driven not by the books but by different expectations of reality?

Obviously my thoughts are not fully formed on this. But I believe I will be considering Merrian's words far longer than she likely intended when she composed them. I will certainly be examining my own preferences through that lens as I consider what drives my genre choices.

* Merrian's comment arose during a discussion of recent events in the blog world, specific thoughts about which I considered elsewhere.

* Editing to add some interesting links provided to me in current Twitter conversation. 
From Ars Marginal.
From the former Vacuous Minx.

Review: Wii-U

Before the Wii-U came out it was firmly at the top of my household's holiday list. As Nintendo devotees we were early adopters of every platform they've released. When the Wii-U hit stores, it was quickly removed from the holiday list and replaced by iPads. The Wii-U, with Nintendo's bizarre DRM, seemed overpriced and underwhelming. Store displays did not allow you to play the game, relying on prerecorded commercials to sell you on the new concept. It was the exact opposite of their Wii launch and it was a disaster

I've listened to store clerks who have not played the Wii-U struggle to explain it to parents before directing them to other consoles. I've watched Nintendo issue press releases about the supposed supply shortage while my local retailers heavily promoted an excess of stock. Individual game titles went from $60 USD down to $19. The Wii-U made me think my time with Nintendo had come to an end. Nintendo is trying to make an improbable world happen. In this world you pay for a virtual version of a game which you can only play on one device. You cannot share it with a sibling or a friend. You cannot carry it to a friend's house. If you lose your device, or it dies, you lose all of your games. Nintendo makes no price concessions for this. You pay full price for a crippled version of a game. Apple charges small amounts for games you can put on any of your devices anytime. You can upgrade or change devices at will. Replace a device and Apple will load all your settings for you. Buy one copy and both kids can play. This is a battle Nintendo is going to lose and in my house they lost it long ago. We have no WiiWare. No 3DS paid downloads.

With the Wii-U falling off the holiday list it seemed that Nintendo was going to follow Little People and Playmobil out to the dustbin of growing up. The kids took their holiday cash and bought iThings. We didn't look back. Birthdays rolled around and the kids found themselves kicking around Gamestop with giftcards they weren't sure how to use. Skylanders? iCases? Like a Pixar film come to life, a fully functional Wii-U made it's play. Once it was in the kids hands their hearts beat a little faster. They remembered Mario and all the good times they'd had. The cumbersome iClone control pad stopped confusing and started to make sense. This is the marketing experience Nintendo should have opened with. Giftcards hit the counter with a clatter. Birthday money flew out of pockets. Frantic counting led to begging, then cajoling and finally pleading. iTunes and Target cards were sold on the spot to an agreeable parent. Promises destined to be broken were made. Allowance was forsworn. Spring Break belonged to Nintendo and times thought past.

Is the Wii-U more fun to play than it's weird kid averse marketing leads you to expect? Yes. Absolutely.  It's the Wii, with some added features. Unfortunately one of the added features is a cumbersome load time. I expected a dial up modem soundtrack to accompany each interminable wait. Want to start the system? That multi hour update and load thing isn't a myth. (Do NOT buy the base model, you will fill it with the first update.) Want to play a game? Wait for another system update. Now wait for the disc to load. Now wait for the .... and so on. Want to switch games? It's going to take a while. You might take this chance to fix a snack or catch up on your favorite magazines. While the Wii-U may be underpriced for it's components it is overpriced for it's out of the box experience. If you love Mario like our house does the investment may still be worth it. Super Mario Bros U is much more challenging than recent Mario games. NintendoLand beats WiiSports. Pikmin 3 is coming. If you are not a Nintendo devotee the frustration factor may drive you to another console. Perhaps that explains the lack of playable systems in the stores - a fear that encountering load times would discourage sales. It's a fair concern. If I hadn't wanted to get my Mario on I might well have said screw it and flipped the unit back to the store. The Wii-U has been a very enjoyable purchase but it certainly isn't a necessary one.

Review: BBC History Magazine Delivery Options

As a long time fan of BBC History Magazine I was frustrated when my bifocals were no longer up to the challenge of it's text. It is a beautifully designed magazine, the sort I enjoy flipping through as much as I enjoy reading. Unfortunately the effect of small fonts and bold colors meant slow going. So last year I started exploring my iPad options.

My first stop was Zinio. The subscription price was reasonable and I read other magazines with this app. Unfortunately, the thing that makes Zinio ideal for those is not enabled for the BHM. When reading articles in some magazines, Zinio brings the selected article up in a pop up window, allowing you to enjoy the layout without sacrificing readability. For BHM you can only pinch and zoom - moving the entire page and being forced to zoom it back before turning the page. It's tedious, but not impossible. My life doesn't lend itself to tedium, so I have 12 issues all half read in my Zinio library. A big change from my cover to cover preference.

Next I gave Amazon a shot. With the Kindle Fire on the market I assumed the BHM would be a full color magazine with all the detailing I adore. It was very much not. Large blocks of black and white text, tiny tokens of art begging for space on the page, the effect was to make me appreciate even more the artistry of BHM's staff. Kindle for iPad rendered BHM high school textbook dull. I quickly abandoned it. It was a can of Ensure when I wanted a full meal.

The last option under consideration was the native iPad app. I use a few Newsstand apps. The lack of consistency across them is similar to the lack of consistency across Zinio, but with a further irksome aspect. Each Newsstand app requires it's own password and it's own operation quirks. While the magazine in the iPad app is the most attractive (and possibly the most readable) it still lacks complete immersion. The iPad native version of BHM is my favorite, so I committed for a year. We'll see how that stacks up against my Zinio experience.

I didn't try Google Play out - but there is always next year. BHM has a roundup of your delivery options with prices per country as well. It's interesting to me that unlike American based magazines UK Print subscribers have to pay extra for a digital version. The U.S. market has a weird convention that buying a paper version means free access to the digital one. I think digital delivery is a medium that hasn't quite matured but my eyes hope we find the right balance soon.

Review: Calculated In Death by J.D. Robb

Preparing to review absolutely anything except the latest J.D. Robb book forced me to face how much I meh'd all the books this month. I didn't even hate them. We can't be friends. I'm left wondering why they came to my house at all. Go home books, you bored me.

So Calculated In Death. At this point the In Death series is like yet another rerun of yet another CBS procedural. We all know what we're getting going in. There's a murder, it gets solved. Eve has her marks to hit taped off on the floor and she gets her angles in pretty quickly. There is a scene in CiD that made me reconsider the comfort zone this series has moved to. Mr. Dallas is an infinitely wealthy guy, right? He fitted Eve out with an experimental coat meant to take a taser hit and keep her moving. He did not outfit Peabody with the same. Because she is not his wife. She is his wife's partner, she is sometimes the difference between his wife living and dying, but she is not his wife. So when the killer targets Eve she wastes valuable time protecting Peabody from a second strike instead of using all of the advantage her coat would have otherwise bought her. We could argue that Mr. Dallas (because really, who else is he at this point?) was unaware the coat would function, or that Peabody isn't his problem or any number of things. Still. Safety equipment. Half the duo only. Infinite resources.

Later in the book Eve offers a costly pair of sunglasses (one of many she fails to value but recalls stuffed into her glovebox) to a street junkie in exchange for information. She has it, it's a tool, she uses it. Eve alternates between her complete contempt for the wealth in her life (and it's effects on others) and utilizing that wealth to the fullest. Eve has not overhauled anything in her department or otherwise flashed her cash. She wants to be one of the kids when the kids are around and Super Cop enjoying the bounty of her marriage when they are not. It's as though the class tight rope she (and her relationship) were walking has become a bounce house to play in. I don't believe Eve has a wealth struggle anymore. I believe Eve has passed into the world of Has. As such, her resentment of obligations related to the cash now reads as petulant and childish instead of pragmatic or uncomfortable. Eve is loaded. Her former best friend is loaded. In a sense, Eve is now slumming at her job.

It no longer makes sense for Eve to operate as the cop in the corner office. She likes her job, her job defines her, but she has become a high profile target independent of her job. It's the Batman problem. Without Batman would so many freaks settle in Gotham? Is Batman's one man show ego driven or the best use of Wayne Industries cash? As the In Death books go Calculated In Death was very enjoyable. It didn't feel like a rerun or a Very Special Chapter, just a new episode of a comfortable old series. In Death will run as long as Robb wants it to go. There will be no baby-louge, no balancing of work and parenting (unless Eve adopts). She and Mr. Dallas will run their Nick and Nora well into the dinner theater years and beyond. I'm not knocking that. I'm not sure what I want from Eve right now. She can't win for losing, I suppose.

Review: Finding Florida by T.D. Allman

Spoiler Alert: I'm a Floridian.

I picked up an advance copy of Finding Florida planning to hate read it. Instead I fell completely in love. I fell so in love that I've been struggling with how to properly convey that love to you without imitating Gollum and the Ring. If I ruled the world, people would be unable to have an opinion on Florida without having read Finding Florida. We'd pass it out with our free samples of orange juice, take copies door to door with the Yellow Pages. Pundits speaking in election years would have to first read a sample passage from the book before continuing to weigh in on whatever issue of the day Florida was allegedly causing. And then, as a nation, we'd take a good long look at what we've done.

 Here's the thing. Everyone writes about Florida. Everyone knows what Florida is, be it a punchline or a destination. If you have enough cash, Florida is Mar-a-Lago. If you don't, Florida is Trayvon Martin. If you want to prove a point (any point, really) you can use Florida as the example and people will assume you're right. No one ever tells the truth in or about Florida. This is a place where reality twists to the will of the speaker and that frustrates the hell out of the natives. Especially if the speaker is from the New York corridor. T.D. Allman tells the truth. He actually found Florida and wrapped it in a book for you. This is a clear eyed, race neutral history of the Sunshine State. Therefore, Finding Florida may strike some as an incendiary book with an agenda. I would argue that it is impossible to really understand Florida and not be angry. Take our snakes. The milk snake is harmless. It's identical cousin the coral snake will kill you. Schoolchildren are taught rhymes to tell the difference. (My school used "Red on black, friend of Jack. Red on yellow kills a fellow." They also dumped a bag of snakes on the table to make sure we remembered it.)  Florida is a coral snake repeatedly packaged as a milk snake. Don't blame T.D. Allman for getting the facts in proper order.

Florida was never purchased. It was not ceded by Spain. Florida was conquered by repeat covert military actions on tenuous premises. Florida was home to interracial towns which were repeatedly cleared for white settlement. Massacres were common and frequent. Free blacks were enslaved on the pretext that their ancestors had been slaves. Florida is America's spoil of a long and bloody war based on race and profit. The fight for Florida was a fight to expand slavery. A mixed community could not be tolerated as a border to the slaveholding south.

"Starting when he was still Billy Powell, Osceola drew his wives and friends from all racial groups. People of Indian, black—and white—descent fought under his command in every battle. They kept fighting even when betraying the blacks among them would have saved them much suffering and, in many cases, saved their lives. Osceola’s brutal mistreatment, as Congressman Giddings put it, demonstrated “the intimate relation which this war bore to slavery.” General Jesup was even more blunt about it. It was, he pointed out, a war to protect and expand slavery, “a Negro and not an Indian war.” Finding Florida, Page 186

T.D. Allman captures the essential problem of Florida. Billy Powell becomes Osceola. Our history, as it actually happens, is continually rewritten into a narrative that serves forces outside our borders. Without knowing who we really were we cannot understand who we are. Finding Florida is about the framework of political corruption that began our state and still rules it today. It is about the unending ability of people who have failed elsewhere to reinvent themselves, rise to the highest levels, and fail again. 

"When people are unwilling or unable to come to terms with reality, a politics based on unreality becomes necessary to sustain what the Florida scholar Eugene Lyon describes as the “utopia of

mutual hopes.” - Finding Florida, Page 454

"Only in Flori-duh!" is something a Floridian hears often. Failed by our schools, failed by our government, we are a people with a mutual hope that consistently eludes us. We want to be the state we know in our bones we can be. The problem is that too many of us want too many versions of that state. A thousand versions imagined in our own image consistently at war with each other, consistently in denial of our shared history. To the other 49 states we are inexplicable, bewildering and backwards. To ourselves, we are a scapegoat for national failures. Finding Florida proves we're both right.

Oh March, You Are Full Of Ides

In February I discussed the extensive run of DNF books I'd encountered. I'm afraid the trend continued. Any number of books were picked up and discarded for TSTL heroines or sexapalooza plot avoidances or sheer boredom. (Wait, that was just Five Golden Rings.)

My point remains. Secret society, secret matchmakers, secret crime fighters. Secrets upon secrets and not a drop of intrigue to be had. It's a dark time in my fiction TBR, and it's made for quiet times here.

I considered dropping in a music review or three. After all, David Bowie put out a new album. You probably heard. It's brilliant. You probably heard that too. I'm not sure I had much to add from a critical standpoint. (If Courtney Milan and David Bowie collaborate it is all over for me and my credibility.) I think I'll go on a non-fiction run. I've recently read a number of decent books that I can talk about without running off on side roads about These Kids and the Books They Read.

Review: Heaven With A Gun by Connie Brockway

*Somewhat disappointingly, this is not a tribute to the 1969 film.

The most I can come up with for Heaven With A Gun is that it was fine. Perfectly acceptable. That's sort of the review kiss of death, I know. This novella is neither compelling enough for me to remember the leads names nor offensive enough for me to have renamed them something like The D-Bag Duke. It's a western with a reporter and an outlaw. There. We're done. Wait, we're not? Ok, uhhhh...  I didn't love HWAG but I certainly liked it.

There's a pretty equal mix of charm and tedium in here. Saloon whores with hearts of gold. Hot headed youth. You know the deal.  The heroine's backstory isn't shown. It's strictly told. This is a shame because her history prior to the hero is the most engaging part of the book. I loved her meeting him, I loved her mind, I loved how she got her reputation. I tolerated her motivation and life choices. The hero starts strong too. I enjoyed his early mid life crisis, his cynicism and desire to shake the West off his shoes. Somehow putting them together diminished both of them. Our heroine falls for the hero because he's the hero and vice versa. Not in a bad way, just in a very conventional way that is perfectly... fine.

I suppose my hopes were high for this story. The Americana side of the genre hasn't knocked my socks off since Morsi. It's been a long dry spell for me and American historical. Plus, I love a good western. What's not to adore about European Colonialism using corrupt political motivations to clear indigenous populations? That is some prime drama there. Some of the early frontier towns were models of multiculturalism. (Much of what we learn in grade school is a heavily fictionalized account of how the West went white.)  Liking  HWAG fine just wasn't quite enough. I think Brockway could have made an interesting full length book out of the characters she created for the novella. The ending felt rushed, almost anticlimactic. Some of the early details begged for full length scenes.  If you're jonesing for a lightly comedic western you can do much, much worse than HWAG. I couldn't help wishing it had been just a bit better.

Social Media & Review Crews Q&A With Meoskop

*Over at SBTB Sarah is running a Q&A with Susan Mallery about her newest reader initiative. If you haven't yet read it, I would.

With the rapid changes in publishing authors have been pushed into being their own publicity department. With so many voices willing to tell authors what to do (and what not to do) it seemed like a great opportunity for us to connect with an expert on author behavior. Meoskop has been a blogger and reviewer under various names since the mid 1980's, when net access was primarily through phone numbers found in the classified ads. Back in the day we'd phone a stranger's basement to talk books.

Q: So Meoskop. (Can I call you Meoskop? Going 3rd person seems like something I should ask permission for.) You get a number of books for free. What's wrong with Susan Mallery offering books to her readers?

A: I suppose I can call myself anything I like, so yes, feel free. If it's good enough for Michael Douglas... Wait, books. Let's get back to that.  Nothing is wrong with Susan Mallery giving away any number of books she chooses. The free book is a long standing promotion. In fact, the free book is one of the best tools an author has to self promote.

Q: Then what's the issue? If authors have been giving books away since books began and many reviewers frequently receive promotional copies, why is Mallery's Review Crew controversial? Is this about gatekeeping reviews?

A: Not at all. In fact, a novice reviewer can be a consumer's best friend. The conflict lies in the author's natural (and necessary) desire to promote being at war with the consumer's natural (and necessary) desire to find reviews they can trust. The issue here is the winnowing of the review pool. Mallery says that she has thousands of readers wanting a chance at reviewing her books in advance. Where I believe she's raising the eyebrows is the consolidation of her reviewers...

Q: I have to interrupt you. If I'm not mistaken you didn't pay for a Courtney Milan book in all of 2012. In point of fact, you proclaimed yourself her number one fan girl in 2011. How can you hope to have any credibility at all on this issue?

A: Excuse me. I was assured there would be no Courtney Milan questions.

Q: You're evading the point.

A: Obviously, I am untrustworthy. This question proves that. It is that fact upon which my credibility hinges. An author or publisher who provides a free book to me has no assurance of a positive review. In fact, when it became clear to both of us that I would likely be hate reading her new release, Avon declined to provide me with an advance copy of Lorraine Heath's upcoming work. I have a track record of refusing to review authors who expect favorable reviews of their work. Or any review. I frequently decline to review ARCs that have been sent to me. Sometimes they're boring.

Q: Mallery obviously realizes not all reviews will be favorable. While she demands a review within two weeks to remain in her program, she acknowledges that not all reviews will be five star!

A: It's the tiered aspect. If Mallery ran a lottery for each release that did not have the tiered aspect this wouldn't have warranted a second look. By offering bars for her reader reviewers to hit, she introduces the elements of bias. She wants something for her time and money that is in conflict with general consumer interest. If you want the next book, review it in two weeks and you're golden. Look at all the thousands of people that want to be you. You're in the Review Crew. You're an insider. I love 5 stars (who doesn't?) but you say what you really think. On the one hand, she's saying (mostly) all the right things. On the other she is justifiably building a network of reliable superfans who can commit to deadline. It's like walking up to the people camped out for a new Chik-Fil-A in a Chik-Fil-A uniform while carrying a video camera and asking them if the food is any good. They're going to say yes. They wouldn't be there if pickle brine made their nose hairs curl.

Q: Aren't all review and promotion schemes in conflict with consumer interest?

A: Pretty much. The tightrope for the author is to conduct their promotion in a way that enhances their brand. Libby Bray puts on a cow suit, I pre-order her book. Maybe I hate it (ok, I did) but I bought it. I hit a review site I know is flawed (that would be any of them) and I see 200 happy reviews all posted in a two week window? That one star review complaining that the author never calls her mother just became the ONLY review I read. Mallery is gambling (probably correctly) that more readers will see a stack of glowing reviews and slam the preorder button than will call shenanigans. Shenanigans rarely answers the phone, anyway. It's probably going to work. But undermining already flawed review systems undermines all authors. A reader who doesn't trust anything she reads has reduced discoverability.

Q: Discvoerabi - whatever you said. That's like, making my head hurt. You're not industry, are you? That industry stuff is a snooze. I just want to find a good book and buy it. How does Susan Mallery stop me from doing that? I don't see the issue.

A: Maybe she doesn't. Maybe the future is one where buyers expect hundreds of largely positive reviews to quickly appear on her books. What does that buyer do next? If the buyer disagrees with those reviews or knows about the Review Crew does the buyer stop trusting all positive reviews? Are you going to trust positive reviews on other authors? Will the three star review become the new rave review? Look! This book doesn't have 5 star reviews - it must be good! Will the one star review be the only one given credibility? In a sea of solicited 5 star reviews how do you apply comparative meaning?

Q: Was that a shot at Klausner? That got old in the 90's.

A: Not at all. I do me and I let other reviewers do them. My point is that an author who plans on having the same name (or hundreds of names) attached to her book reviews needs to carefully consider issues of credibility. Consumers already suspect reviews and review sites.

Q: Are we back to Courtney Milan?

A: You really need to get over this Courtney Milan thing. You're starting to embarrass me.

Review: The Magic Mirror And The Seventh Dwarf by Tia Nevitt

Tia Nevitt has a lot of promise. I liked (but couldn't quite love) her debut. When Dear Author featured this second tale as a Daily Deal I snatched it up. Nevitt writes with an easy style that put me in mind of Gregory Maguire at his least cumbersome. She has a fresh eye for familiar fairy tales. Taking her characters from the sidelines, Nevitt world builds like a master. I'm definitely in for her third tale and probably the one after that. Something about this author intrigues me. And yet I lack the love. The passion isn't there. I want Nevitt to take just one step further from the comfort zone.The Magic Mirror And The Seventh Dwarf (Accidental Enchantments) has a title which tells you most of what's wrong with the story. There are too many elements vying for your attention. I get that Nevitt's concept is to intertwine a slightly different version of a familiar tale with a completely new one. The difficulty she faces is making both tales equally compelling and in that she failed.

In Gretchen the dwarf Nevitt has a great character she mostly abandons for the side tale of Snow White. We all know everything we care to know about Snow White. The minor changes here don't compel me as a reader. Gretchen starts out so strong but then she fades. When we meet Gretchen she is strong, pragmatic, confident and determined to improve her life. She's a savvy commentator on the motivations of others, adept at reading faces and vocal tones. By the time we leave Gretchen she's no longer steering her own course. Gretchen has become almost tediously like our standard heroine, interested primarily in other's opinions of her. I didn't buy the lessons the author felt Gretchen needed to learn. Snow White is a complete bore. She's too good to be true and too bravely heroic to tolerate. Snow is absurdly trusting. Someone may try to rape her, someone may try to kill her, but Snow just keeps trucking. Snow's only weakness is not having friends. She's too pretty to make friends. Snow talks about being valued only for her beauty. Snow has real problems she could absolutely focus on so her insistence that beauty has been her obstacle rings false. She's the borderline anorexic girl who complains for hours about her fast metabolism keeping her from gaining weight while ignoring the laxative in her purse. Snow is used as a club to beat home the message the author wants Gretchen to learn. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Whatever. Snow is also painfully dim. When the mirror presents a solution to her problems (a completely obvious one at that) Snow seems to have never considered it.

Gretchen was a dream until she met Snow. Soon she's repeatedly obsessing about her looks while beating herself up for prejudging beautiful women. It might have been more tolerable if there was real conflict about who Gretchen would pair off with but there isn't. He's going to be short and he's going to be the only short character the author spends much time on. Then there is the melodramatic villain. He's blinded by his own (comparative) beauty. He's a bully and an attempted rapist. I'm not sure what the point of that is. On the one hand, the author argues that Snow's near assault is a result of her beauty. On the other Gretchen's is about thwarted power and anger. Does a short need two such events? Does it need dual motivations? Rape is rape. Is it supposed to shock us that it would happen to anyone? It happens to 101 year old women. Is Mr. Bad Dwarf's bullying and violence just not enough? It serves little story purpose to have Gretchen experience the assault and the ease with which she (and Snow) shake it off bothered me.

Reading TMMATSDAE I thought of a dozen turns Nevitt could have taken. There were so many paths open to her once the character of Gretchen was established. I was sad that we wasted them on the conventional path of visually dissimilar women becoming friends. I was sorry that the burden to overcome assumptive bias was primarily on Gretchen. I was bored that Gretchen ended up with the most predictable partner possible. I think Tia Nevitt has some great books in her. I'm hoping in her next outing she sticks to her instinct for reinvention. If anyone could make dwarf romance a genre, she could.

A Paucity of Posts

February has been a slow month for this blog. There have been a succession of DNF titles which not only failed to engage me, they failed to provoke interesting thoughts. I'm currently reading a fantastic non-fiction that I question the broad appeal of. (When I finish I'll be raving about it and you can decide.)

I think we're entering one of those romance cycles where the market and my preferences are turning away from each other. Kleypas doubled down on her paranormal series and is dipping her toes into the bondage stream. I'm not the 50 / Motorcycle / Benson reader. So there goes Kleypas. She used to be a reliable read for me - an author you reset yourself with. I'm reviewing my extensive list of books to read when the pricing system repairs. There are not a lot of Must Catch Up authors there. Most of those books will go unread.  Maybe 10% still tempt me.

I've got a big bag of books and no idea what's going to stick. Bear with me into March and we'll see if the Book Bag part of my subheading reclaims ground currently occupied by A Slacker. Perhaps I'll just start posting "HATED IT" next to DNF covers. (Minimalism redefined for book blogging.) I think a DNF without exploration is useless. Mostly, aside from the non-fic, I'm thinking about Sharon Shinn's Shapeshifter book. I hate that she went series with it. I hate that by the end the mystery of is he or isn't he was neatly resolved in exchange for a conventional validation. Sometimes as a reader I feel much like Shinn's heroine did about her lover. A certain amount of self harm is required to keep the relationship alive.

Review: Five Star Romance by Jacquelin Thomas

I didn't finish Five Star Romance. After struggling with the opening pages, I threw in the towel on page 136. It's rare for me to do a review on a DNF book but I wanted to discuss how the style of the book kept me from engaging in the content. Thomas is working with classic romance elements. Her lead, Blaze, is the family's lost boy. He blames himself for the troubles of his past far more than his family does. This leads him to value his privacy, where he can control the face he puts out to the world. Livi is a rich girl trying to make it on her own, without the protection of her family connections. When an enemy of his family reveals their secret marriage, Blaze find his personal life on the front pages.

Thomas gives herself a lot to work with. Both characters have a reason to have initially interacted and reasons not to have seen each other since. Both have strong family units that offer support and encouragement. Wealth is not an issue that divides them or hinders their freedom to live as they wish. Five Star Romance is a classic case of great on paper. Thomas relies heavily on telling over showing. Her characters interact with others (and each other) only in very brief exchanges. The vast majority of the story is told in informational dumps. For example, an important confrontation between Livi and Blaze takes place in less than a full page. In that space Blaze has arrived to apologize for assumptions he made that have driven Livi away. She refuses to speak to him and he leaves. Major changes in motivation and assumptions hinge on handfuls of dialogue followed by paragraphs of exposition.

We don't see Blaze or Livi evolve, we are told they are. And they evolve rapidly. On one page Blaze wants a divorce. On another he's committed. In the same space of time Livi flips from committed to finished. Their actions and motivations don't engage the reader because the reader never experiences the transformation with them. As well, their world is inconsistent. Livi works with Blaze's family. She's been part of their business longer than they have. Livi has had two years to study any aspect of Blaze's life she chooses. As a result, some of Livi's actions make no sense. At times she appears star struck by the world Blaze lives in but it's a world she was born to and has worked around for some time. Thomas chooses odd details unconnected to the world she's building.

"A few minutes later, Blaze and Livi walked back inside and headed straight to the dance floor.

At the end of the evening, guests were given a choice of an iPad case or a notepad, pen and flash drive set by Ungaro as a party favor. Blaze gave Livi one of each.

When they were inside his car, he glanced over at Livi and asked, “Are you ready to go home?”" Page 103, Five Star Romance

Nothing about the party favors matter to the plot. Caring about the party favors doesn't fit with the background of the characters so the inclusion seems aimed at the readers. The first 130 pages of Five Star Romance are filled with these secondary details used as a substitute for natural scene transitions. This happens, so now that happens. Then this other thing. And they were thinking that. But then they did this. Livi and Blaze never really come alive, they stay puppets moved through a pantomime tale. 

Review: Thief of Shadows by Elizabeth Hoyt

This was my first foray into the Maiden Lane series and I might have one more in me before I call it quits on Hoyt for good. What makes Hoyt catnip to my fellow reviewers makes me sneeze. I think we're far enough from the release date for me to freely make use of spoilers.

Thief of Shadows is one of those books where all the characters are very strongly something until suddenly they are not. Winter Makepeace is a dedicated teacher with a serious Batman complex. He runs around in an ornate, colorful costume and leaps on rooftops to ferret out enslaved children. His rationale for the elaborate disguise (striking fear into men's hearts) was a bit of a yawn. Leaving his attire aside, the rest of Winter Makepeace had promise. Through his dedication to the children a true conflict existed for him and Isabel. Unfortunately it takes just one nonconsensual blowjob for Winter Makepeace to forget everything he holds dear. Isabel sucks the character right out of him. Suddenly he's gone from swearing his life has been promised to a higher purpose to abandoning everything he once stood for. No longer is the need of the many (the orphans) greater than the need of the one (himself and a favored orphan). No longer are his nightly raids on criminals the calling he cannot set aside. Winter packs his bags and arrives at Isabel's house with boots made for knocking.

Isabel is no better. She's a flighty hedonist who refuses to bond with the child sharing her home. She orders him away and complains to the servants when she sees signs of him in her home. She works on the charity board for the orphanage but never spends time there. Her goals are a life in society filled with distractions. After sexually assaulting Winter she suddenly craves children and stability. By the end of the book Isabel has packed down her mansion and set up house in the orphanage by Winter's side. She's busy making it a home. No mention is made of the probable social cost because now Isabel has a makeshift family and therefore has satisfied all her life's desires. If I were Makepeace, I'd be worried about a sexual predator in a house of young men but then if I were Makepeace I'd have shoved her off a balcony instead of chasing her down and professing my love.

Along the way there is a tedious Pygmalion subplot even the characters fail to take seriously. There are a few Bad Guys and Even Worse Guys and a bit of Conspiracy keeping time for us so Isabel and Winter can pretend anything matters but getting naked. The plot points are so disposable that one involving a young jewish orphan is completely cast side once Winter buys his knocking boots. Presumably the concerns he had about taking her into a Christian Home are swept away by the clarity of passion. Or something. There's also this dude that wants the orphanage for REASONS and is thwarted by an old lady with a pile of slingshots. I don't know why he wouldn't just beat the crap out of our orphans, but he throws his hands up like a modern couple whose live in nanny has walked off in a huff. How can he manage these dirty, dirty children?

Hoyt keeps being recommended to me by people whose opinion I generally agree with. This is my second or third attempt at her. I do appreciate her ability to create distinct characters but I think she lacks follow through. I have another Maiden Lane book cued up on the old TBR but I'll stop there. It hurts my eyes when I roll them.

Review: The Shape of Desire by Sharon Shinn

Sharon Shinn has been all about confusing her readers since her career started. Is she chicken, or is she fish? Taken as a whole, her career makes perfect sense. She writes fairly standard romances with strong science fiction elements and extremely real human interaction. Shinn understands power dynamics in a way that sets her apart. She breaks your heart by loading her implausible worlds with plausibility. In that sense, The Shape of Desire is anything but a departure. Taken on it's own, I can see why it confused readers in it's hardcover release.

The Shape of Desire is a rumination on human relationships. What we are willing to trade away to have specific people in our lives and what we are not. In the case of Maria, she has given up stability. Her lover claims to be a shape shifter. Maria has never seen Dante change out of his human form. She has never seen anyone change from a human form. What Maria knows is that when she is with Dante she is blissfully happy and when she is not she falls apart. Much of the book focuses on her relationships with other people. Although forced to keep Dante a secret, Maria is close to her family. Her coworkers are involved in each other's lives, including that of a woman in an abusive relationship. While trying to befriend her Maria is forced to consider harder questions about both their lives. When is concern misplaced? What does an outsider know of the risks and rewards inside a relationship?

Shinn is successful in creating a memorable tale with important questions at it's heart. She's less successful in making me care about Dante and Maria. I never connected with Dante, despite the evolution of his character. I sometimes grew impatient with Maria. I was more interested in some of the coworkers and I was frankly disappointed to have all of Maria's questions so neatly answered. The book would be more powerful as an open ended single title than as a start of a new series. That said, there is an unanswered question at the end of the book that neatly underlines the theme of the whole. What will we allow ourselves to believe or accept to have the thing we love? Late in the book Maria, who hungers for a child, has the opportunity to raise one. Does she have a right to this child? Has this child been stolen? For the reader, as for Maria, the question hangs as something that cannot be examined too closely. Maria has what she longed for. Is that enough?