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Tag: reading

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To new beginnings

Notebook and coffee

This is definitely not my first blog post.

I had a blog about book collecting and bibliophilia for many years over on blogger.  I’m active over on tumblr too, but that isn’t so much blogging as a constant stream of amusing/pretty/cool stuff.  I post a lot of photos and quotes and things I happen to like, (i.e. typewriters. I love me some typewriters.)  It’s more immediate too, so there will be music links and funny memes, you know, tumblr stuff. Here, I’ll share links to articles, tools, and especially historic research resources I find helpful.  I may occasionally post music to write to, or cool images.

Here, I’ll talk about my research, my writing, whatever I’m working on as I progress toward my writing goals.  What are those goals?  Well, in the short-term, I’ve managed to get a piece of flash-fiction placed with cool series from Akashic Books.  Next is to finish another short (but longer than flash) piece and get it placed somewhere.  Longer term, I’m working on what I’m seeing as a novella series, and then another series of full-length novels.  Both series are historic thrillers/mysteries. One of those series grabbed me by the collar and is dragging me along.

What I’m working on now: a novella set in and around 1930s Denver. I was not alive in the 1930s nor have I lived in Denver, so there’s some research to do.  This story also features a main character who I think will be a series character.  Anyway, the short has been a lot of fun, using info I’ve dug up previously, but haven’t used.

I’ve gotten to know the main character  in this one pretty well.  He first appeared as a supporting cast member of my first attempt at a novel back in 2007 or so.  Through edits, rewrites, and dumping the whole thing and starting over a couple times, he’s emerged as one of the two main characters of that novel — he was too fascinating, and too much fun to hang out with compared to my original main character.

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Anyway, thanks for reading.  No spoilers, but amazing poster served as a bit of inspiration this week:

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Book Review: The Murder of Mary Russell by Laurie R. King

 

 I’ve just finished The Murder of Mary Russell.  Wow.  It’s … fantastic. I get nervous with Laurie R King’s new books in her beloved Mary Russell – Sherlock Holmes series.  This is book 14 of the long-running series.  Sure, I love some books of the series better than others … but this book was marvelous and absolutely the follow-up I needed (as a fan) after Dreaming Spies, Garment of Shadows, and (deep breath), The Pirate King.
After a deadly confrontation, readers are drawn through the history of one of Sherlock Holmes’s earliest cases and the true background of the fascinating Mrs. Hudson(!), and the true nature of her relationship to Sherlock.   We even get a bit of King’s take on a Sherlock Holmes not long before his arrival at Baker Street.  I know I could read a *lot* more in that vein.  Maybe someday King will give us a little more.
About half-way through this latest of the series, I had an idea that though I was enjoying it, The Murder of Mary Russell would only appeal to the die-hard fans of Mary Russell and maybe those true completists of Sherlock pastichery.  And a few unbranded #histofic mavericks.  After all, we’re delving deep — real deep, into the supporting cast of the series, usually territory for only the most devout readers of fanfic and scholars of minutia.  However, after that half-way mark (or so), all that build up became more and more meaningful, reaching deep into the story of King’s Sherlock, which incidentally, is among my favorite interpretations.
We’re also (mostly) but not entirely back in London and Sussex for this tale.  If you’re among the legions of King’s readers who love the globe-trotting nature of Russell and Holmes’s lives, you shouldn’t feel too cooped up, after sojourns at sea and a bit of time in Australia during the days of Transportation and gold.
So, a spoiler free review, given how little I can tell you, given that title.  Yikes.  Read The Murder of Mary Russell and see how the world of Sherlock and Mary Russell is changed forever.
Disclosure: I received a free advance ebook copy for review.

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Book Review: Jane Steele by Lyndsay Faye

Book Review: Jane Steele by Lyndsay Faye

“Reader, I murdered him…., A reimagining of Jane Eyre as a gutsy, heroic serial killer….”
With a lead-in like that, I had high expectations.  That and this is Lyndsay Faye we’re talking about, the creator of the marvelous Timothy Wilde series, and the one who finally gave us a gripping account of Sherlock Holmes vs. Jack the Ripper that frankly is better than anything Conan Doyle would have come up with.  
Jane Steele is a fun, action-filled homage to the Gothic triple deckers of the Victorian age.  It has the classic tropes:  Girl orphaned young, named Jane, abused by the wealthier kinfolk she lives with, sent away to horror-show school and becomes governess …  I go into books labeled ‘reimaginings’ with gun-shy wariness.  Like satire, it can be a fine line between brilliant and obnoxious, too cute or cloying.  Steele is not a satire of the genre, but it is sly and winking, more like a quiet unspoken joke between old friends.   Jane Steele is even published as a triple decker — thankfully under one cover.  It’s action-filled and just tons of fun with some great characters I deeply hope to see again.    
Steele, is also unflinching from the ugliness in ugly people, and hardships of the time.  Some of that ugliness is only hinted at in those classic Gothic novels we love, but here if someone is a sexual predator, it’s said/shown.    
Anyone shying away from the ‘serial killer’ tag — I think it’s not used well here.  Jane Steele isn’t a serial killer.  More like a vigilante, or frankly just someone who lives in hard place during a hard time.  The violence is largely unflinching, but far from Tarantino-esque.  This isn’t a cozy knitting mystery, but I think the majority of readers won’t be put off by the violence.
Faye’s descriptions are gold, building tension then giving readers that pinching little twist of anticipation making payoffs that much sweeter.  Book to book, she just gets better and better.
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Book Review: The Infidel Stain by MJ Carter

 

It’s been three years since Jeremiah Blake and bibliophile William Avery teamed up in India for what was one of the most enjoyable books I’ve read recently (The Strangler Vine) — getting in on the ground floor as it were of a new series.  The Infidel Stain takes us to London in the early 1840s, into the orbit of publishers and pornographers, dissidents and rebels.  Oh, and of course, murder.  It’s one of those novels that just oozes with atmosphere of dank and dark London, after a terrifying time in the dangerous jangals of India. Our heroes have become something of celebrities given their encounter with Xavier Mountstuart.  We learn a little more about the mysterious Jeremiah Blake’s background in this novel, which was interesting, to say the least.  We don’t get much more of Avery, which I would have enjoyed.  Maybe the only thing I’d have expected was that ardent bibliophile William Avery, on a rare visit to The City would indulge himself in a visit to a bookshop.

Historically rich, and textured, a thriller that had me reading late in huge gulps.

Ok, an admission: I liked the first book better.  But with reports of Blake & Avery 3 well underway, I can’t wait to see what happens next. This book was published as The Printer’s Coffin in the United Kingdom.

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Book Review: Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel

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We read Station Eleven aloud, and … wow.  My partner now wants to read more post-apocalyptic stuff (I recommended: Alas, Babylon).  We follow the intertwining strands of several people’s lives who experience a nearly extinction level pandemic in the near future.  I didn’t find it overly gruesome the way some books in the genre go, though there is death and injury, and other unsettling events, as anyone would expect.  The book does a lot of slipping and sliding in the timeline, but these shifts are handled deftly by Emily St John Mandel.  The post-apocalyptic chapters and scenes largely take place 20 years after the pandemic, which is very interesting.  If you’re at all interested, I know you’ll look at more reviews, and have probably already heard of this book.  I’m just adding my voice to the choir singing its praises.  It’s a creepy, beautiful, touching story about family, survival, and at its core: art.  I loved it.

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Book Review: First Impressions by Charlie Lovett

If you’re a follower of many bloggers, talkers, and reviewers in the bibliosphere (i.e., booklr, bookstagram, et. al.), you’ve probably already heard about Charlie Lovett’s new book, First Impressions.   I received a copy of Lovett’s latest bibliomystery from his publisher for review.

It’s good.

For a long time I was a “Decide to read a book, finish it no matter what” reader. If I chose poorly, it was an act of contrition to the bibliogods to finish a crappy book.

But, I began to feel like Life’s Too Short for that kind of strict observance. I asked around what other readers did. Some read to page 100, which seemed like a lot. I was surprised how many were like me — finish it no matter what. Those who would drop a stinker didn’t follow any guidelines, which should have been obvious had I also lead that kind of bohemian, lawless lifestyle like some kind of flamboyantly dressed Borneo ape-man.

Then I heard Nancy Pearl’s good advice, to subtract your age from 100, and that’s the number of pages you should give a book. As you age, and your reading time on earth shortens, and you become a better judge of literature, you don’t have to be quite so full of grace for books that don’t quite deserve to take up precious reading time.

So, for me, that means 66 pages.

By page 40, Fred got his answer:

Yes.  Yes, it is a kissing book.
 
And by page 66 (actually well before page 66 …), I was hooked.  But it was good I had adopted that guidance to give First Impressions a fair shake — the opening is cheesier than the pickup lines borne bravely by our protagonist.  (An aside: I had a lot of terrible First Impression puns I’ve spared you. You’re welcome.)  Not that I’m cheesy-opposed — I’m a big fan of the Aubrey-Mauturin series, but when it comes to romance, I prefer it given a bit more straight. 
 
I found myself drawn in by Sophie Collingwood, a bibliophile in modern London who inherits an amazing library and far more trouble than she ever wanted.  A curious bibliophile through and through, I was fascinated to tag along with her for a fun story, intertwined with a story about Jane Austen.  I’m no Jane-ite, so I’m definitely not the best one to tell you how accurate/ fulfilling/ uhhh….. Janey(?) that part of the story was, which I know is why many readers will pick this one up.  To be honest, I found myself frequently wanting to skip ahead to the modern side of the tale.  Not because the Jane side of the story was not interesting, but that I identified more closely with Sophie and her side of the novel.  
 
In the end, it was a good story I’d recommend especially to Anglophile bibliophiles, and I deeply hope it’s a dandy for the Jane Austen fans out there.  After all, it’s probably been at least a week since the Jane-ites had a new book to read, which can be way too long for you people.  Also in the plus column, I’d rank it highly on “bibliofactor”.  The book stuff was meaty and not at all the simple McGuffin some authors try to foist off on us, rather the only setting in which this story could be told.  Very good stuff.
 

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Leopard Bikini Found in Book

2917465248_3e2233f21e_bHad another book safari for the ages. I found some great books for myself, but also found an instruction book on Hawking! I’m not interested in hawking, personally, at least beyond the theoretical. Don’t get me wrong, training raptors to hunt for you is cool, but I already have too many hobbies. But what a fun book to sit with and learn a little from!

And also, if you’re like me, there is never quite enough money for the books I want, so when I find other interesting books I know are collectible in their own right, I pick them up and send them along to more appreciative owners. Like hawk trainers. For money.

Flipping through the book once I was home, I found a great flyaway. Flyaways are the little bits of stuff we leave in our books to be found later. Receipts, movie tickets, torn off bits are the norm, but I once found a chocolate chip and 30+-year-old pornography carefully Exacto knifed and taped into a compact accordion of pocket smut. Not in the same book, though. Some old-time booksellers refer to flyaways as “hay” though more and more collectors, booksellers, and antique dealers now refer to it as ephemera.

I know you doubt it, but the post card is actually hawking related. The Rare Bird Farm in Miami Florida sent a message to the effect “No, we don’t have hawks”. Photo by Bunny Yeager. Now to decide if I should sell the postcard separate on ebay, or just leave it in the book where I found it for the next guy.

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