Tag: book review

  • Book Review: The Stone Serpent

    Book Review: The Stone Serpent

    Color headshot of the author, Nicholas Kaufman. I recently had the pleasure of reading Nicholas Kaufmann’s newest horror novel, “The Stone Serpent.” This sequel to Kaufmann’s 2021 novel “The Hungry Earth” takes place a year after the events of the first book and follows the main character, Dr. Laura Powell, as she tries to re-establish some semblance of normalcy in her life. The story’s premise (which you can read over on Goodreads) was a lot of fun, and the fast pace kept me engaged from start to finish.Image of the book cover for the horror novel, The Hungry Earth. Illustration of a human skull in tones of blue, grey, and black. Thin-stalked, brown mushrooms are growing out of the eye sockets of the skull.

    Kaufmann does love his research. In all his novels, he adds a sense of authenticity by including numerous (and often terrifying) scientific details. The science was one of the things I enjoyed so much in his vampires-on-a-submarine horror novel, “100 Fathoms Below.100 Fathoms BelowAs with his other books, “The Stone Serpent” is packed with interesting and accurate scientific facts and descriptions. That said, the science sometimes felt wedged into scenes without good reason. Often, descriptions felt included just for the sake of serving up a creepy or interesting fact. More than once, I wondered why a small-town medical examiner would know about so many facts unrelated to medicine. Nevertheless, all those not-necessarily-needed scientific facts were so interesting (and morbid) that I enjoyed their inclusion regardless. 

    The main character, Dr. Laura Powell, is a woman I could easily root for–smart, self-confident, capable, and caring. Booker, her boyfriend, is equally likable if a bit passive. His role in the story was mostly to offer emotional support for Laura and to tell her to be careful. There were a few moments when I wanted him to step up and step in, saying, “No, sorry. I can’t let you do this crazy thing because I care about you. It would be irresponsible to let you do such this incredibly dangerous and poorly thought-out thing.” But, this is a somewhat campy horror novel we’re talking about, and characters acting illogically is part of the genre.

    As Laura navigates her way through a new crisis, she grapples with a prickly new police Chief, Elana Morales. The chief’s cold affectation and constant micromanaging makes her highly unlikable. Once Kaufmann shared her backstory, though, I started rooting for her as hard as I was rooting for Laura. 

    A general issue I had with this book was with Kaufmann’s heavy use of exposition as a writing technique. While some explanations helped establish setting or provided context, the abundant exposition did occasionally detract from the immediacy of the action. I wanted to be told less and shown more. A related issue was with the use of dialogue to explain things. There was a lot of “as you know, Bob” conversations throughout this story. 

    There were two subplots to this story competing for the readers’ attention. One involved the cutting-edge pharmaceutical company, Thurmond Biotech. The other was a plot involving a fringe religious community (the details of which reminded me strongly of Warren Jeff’s extreme sect of the Fundamentalist Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints). Of the two competing plots, this was the one that got the most time on the page, yet I found it to be distracting from the main premise of the novel. The characters dominating the religious plot line were, in my opinion, clichéd and two-dimensional. I would have liked more development of the dodgy biotech company and its involvement in the creation of the main threat of the novel: killer snakes! 

    Ah, the snakes. I won’t say too much about them lest I spoil the horror of them. Let me simply say that if you are naturally squeamish about snakes, this book will have you crawling out of your skin (haha, pun intended). 

    The final confrontation between the main characters and the snakes was intense and well-written, and the resolution felt earned. As a reader, I felt fully sated. Overall, I would definitely recommend “The Stone Serpent” to fans of just-for-fun, campy horror novels with some cool science packed into the terror.

  • Book Review: 100 Fathoms Below

    Book Review: 100 Fathoms Below

    100 Fathoms Below by Steven L. Kent


    I bought the kindle version of 100 Fathoms Below after one of the authors (Nicholas Kaufmann) pitched it to me at a convention as “Vampires on a Submarine.” Sold! If there’s any type of monster on a sub, it’s a movie I’ll watch or a book I’ll read.

    The authors did a tremendous amount of research with regard to military protocol and life aboard a US navy sub. Their attention to detail was excellent. If you enjoy stories that immerse you in military life, you will enjoy this book for that aspect alone.

    Submarines didn’t launch on a single order; they launched with a dialogue. The submarine corps choreographed its procedures to the last detail. It was the officer of the deck who began the dialogue.

    ‘Bridge rigged for dive,’ Penwarden reported. ‘Last man down.’

    I now know so much more about both the physical layout of submarines and the day to day coordinated effort of living in one and operating it. Doctors rarely enjoy medical thrillers because the authors get the details wrong. Lawyers shy away from reading legal thrillers for similar reasons. Put 100 Fathoms Below into the hands a naval vet and he’ll be hard-pressed to find fault with this story. The authors were determined to get all the details right. I think they succeeded.

    The horror story aspect of the story? Interesting, to be sure. Who doesn’t love a good vampire story, and this one has the added bonus of happening in the inky blackness of the deep ocean, crammed inside a claustrophobic tube of groaning, creaking metal. But for all that, I struggled to feel any real dread or horror as I read this book. There were definitely several “omg, that is deeply unsettling” moments. The torpedo tubes, people. That’s all I’ll say. But, most of the time I felt somewhat emotionally detached from the story. Could be I’m emotionally dead inside, but the rising tension didn’t have me biting my fingernails. The horrific acts (the attacks, the killings, etc) were mostly handled “off the page.” I like to see, hear, feel, smell the moment when a monster attacks. Nothing too overtly gory, but more than what I was given in this story.

    Bodine’s blood–that was what he smelled, the source of the sweet, enticing scent. Stubic hadn’t been hungry all day. Just the thought of eating had sickened him. But now, suddenly, he was hungry. So very hungry.

    He reached for Bodine quickly, faster than he ever thought he could move.

    That’s all you get, folks. The rest of the attack is left to our imagination. While I fully understand that nothing can scare us more than the things we can imagine, there are times when I don’t want things left up to my imagination. I want the author to walk me through the horror of an event–like a vampire’s first kill.

    Another problem I had was that it wasn’t entirely clear who the main character was versus all the secondary characters. If you read the blurb for the book posted on Amazon or over on Goodreads, it hints at this lack of protagonist identity. Not that there wasn’t a main character. There was, but numerous secondary characters took up as much time and space and emotional weight on the page as did the protagonist. As a result, my attention felt too equally divided across too many characters. I couldn’t get deeply, emotionally invested in any of them.

    100 Fathoms Below is definitely plot-driven, not character driven, but you know what? That’s okay. It’s a well written, fast-paced military thriller as much as it is a horror story. And really, don’t you want to know how one survives being trapped on a submarine, in total darkness with a vampire hunting you inside and the Russians hunting you outside? I’ll give you a hint. It doesn’t involve stakes, crosses, or holy water.

    I’m more than comfortable recommending 100 Fathoms Below as a fun, quick horror read.

    As always, thanks for stopping by and happy writing to you.

    View all my reviews

  • Book Review: The Martian by Andy Weir

    Book Review: The Martian by Andy Weir

    Andy Weir’s The Martian was the hottest science fiction book to hit the shelves in 2014. There was a resurgence of interest in the novel when the film came out. I finally got around to reading it this summer. I’d heard many a great thing about it.

    The Description from Goodreads

    The Martian 2014Six days ago, astronaut Mark Watney became one of the first people to walk on Mars. 

    Now, he’s sure he’ll be the first person to die there.

    After a dust storm nearly kills him and forces his crew to evacuate while thinking him dead, Mark finds himself stranded and completely alone with no way to even signal Earth that he’s alive—and even if he could get word out, his supplies would be gone long before a rescue could arrive. 

    Chances are, though, he won’t have time to starve to death. The damaged machinery, unforgiving environment, or plain-old “human error” are much more likely to kill him first. 

    Mars

    But Mark isn’t ready to give up yet. Drawing on his ingenuity, his engineering skills — and a relentless, dogged refusal to quit — he steadfastly confronts one seemingly insurmountable obstacle after the next. Will his resourcefulness be enough to overcome the impossible odds against him?

     

    My Opinion of The Martian? Meh.

    Book Closed

    Disclosure: I did not finish this book.

    I got halfway through The Martian, almost to the page, and it wasn’t grabbing me. The main character, the crew, the folks back on earth–I didn’t feel invested in any of them. So, I evaluated reasons why and moved on.

    Reading half the book gave me enough of a picture for this review, I think.

     

    Andy Weir’s writing is solid from a nuts and bolts perspective. Nothing wrong with his craft, per say. Had I read to the end, it’s possible my opinion might have changed. Maybe The Martian morphed into something spectacular five pages away from where I stopped. Lots of folks love this book. Love with a big fat capitol “L”.

    As an individual reader (n=1 for the scientists), I reached a point where I thought to myself, “Eh, I kind of don’t care anymore.”

    And that’s telling.

     

    Where the Book Failed Me:

    1) Lack of Tension

    There are two things everyone seems to gush about with this book: the “voice” and the science, and there was plenty of both, but neither were enough to keep me going.

    By the halfway point of The Martian, I was looking around going, “So, I have a clear picture of the problem, but has anyone scene the story?  It should have showed up by now. Should we call somebody?”

    I mean, yes, there was an inciting incident and (I guess) some rising action, but here’s the thing. Rising action is not always synonymous with rising tension. Their relationship is closely correlative but not causal.

    John StewartTension is what attacks our brains. Tension hooks us into a story and makes us want to know what happens next. In The Martian, the MC–Mark Watney–faces one problem after another after another as he fights to survive on Mars. And yet I wasn’t chewing my fingernails worrying about the consequences.

    I think I first heard of the storytelling concept of “Yes-but, No-and” from Mary Robinette Kowal during a discussion on the podcast Writing Excuses. The idea goes like this.

     

    1. A character faces an obstacle to achieving their goals. I’ll apply it to this book. Mark Watney’s goal is surviving long enough to get rescued. The challenge is… there were a bazillion to choose from in this book.
    2. Does the character overcome the challenge? If Andy Weir’s goal was to build tension, then… 
    3. If the answer is yes, it should take the form of Yes-but now Mark’s created another, bigger problem. Note bigger in that description, not different.
    4. If the answer is no, it should take the form of No-and now Mark’s chances of surviving are less than before

     

    Andy Weir throws challenge after challenge at his main character, but he does so in a consistent “Yes-and” pattern.  See the difference? Yes-and manifests like this: Mark Watney faces a problem that will kill him. He solves it. A different problem pops up that also might kill him. He solves it. Repeat. They aren’t building off one another, amplifying in magnitude. For all the science in The Martian, the story was (for me) kind of boring

    Quick aside: even for me–a science-loving, science-teaching, science geek–there was just too much science. IMO: It would have been a stronger story had Andy Weir cut out about half the step-by-step scientific explanations and replaced them with moments of emotional vulnerability on the part of the characters. 

     

    2) Emotional Disconnect with the MC

    Marty McFly CryingI love me some action, but you’ve gotta connect me to the character on an emotional level, and do so as quickly as possible, if you want to hook me into the story. Weir didn’t do that.  

    Weir chose to deliver the main character, Mark Watney,  through a filter. In the form of log entries. When you read the book (and remember, I only read half of it, so this might not be true of the entire novel), you’re not seeing Mark, not even hearing him speak, certainly not hearing his thoughts. You’re reading what the character wrote in NASA log entries. Sort of like a semi-personal, but semi-official journal. For me, that threw up a hazmat-suit kind of barrier between me and the guy on the other side of the fictitious keyboard.

    Now, this might be where people want to jump in and say, “Yes, but you’re wrong because the character is so snarky, and he swears a lot, and he makes jokes and stuff.”

    Okay… but, did you ever find yourself tapping into Mark Watney’s panic? The absolutely agonizing, muscle-seizing, grays-your-vision-around-the-edges pain of his initial injury? The heart-exploding relief at getting back to the HAB after the first time he drove out of sight of it. Of the hollowing crush of loneliness he was caught by? Rage? Frustration? True, Hulk-smash frustration? 

     

    Whatever gifYeah, he swore a lot and wrote flippant comments and cracked an Aquaman joke. Maybe a strong “voice” isn’t enough. It’s got to be welded to emotional interiority of the character. What few emotions we saw were… flat. I didn’t believe them. 

    Andy Weir was using a literary device. I get that. The emotional distance I felt might have been intentional. Maybe we don’t see much interiority because Mark Watney thought everything he wrote down was eventually going to be read and analyzed. He was holding back his deepest inner self. Wouldn’t blame him. Makes perfect sense. 

    I guess I’m not the type of reader who enjoys staying somewhat removed of characters’ emotions. There are literally hundreds of thousands of people who adored this book. Cheers to them, I say.  For me, it missed the mark.  

     

    Biggest Takeaway?

    Do not, fellow writers, trouble your minds with the worry, “What if this story I’m writing is no good?” Easier said than done, I know. This is, perhaps, the biggest darkest deepest shadow looming over all writers. But, I just read a book loved dearly by a LOT of people and I didn’t love it. You’re never going to please everyone, no matter how great a book you write.

     

    Maybe there could have been a different strategy for writing The Martian that would have pulled me in more effectively. Not really for me to say, I suppose. 

    Let me reiterate, however, this was a DNF book for me, so… take my thoughts with a big grain of salt.

     

    Curious about my other book reviews?

    Click here to read my review of Mackenzie Lee’s YA historical romance, The Gentleman’s Guide to Vice and Virtue.

     

    In the meantime, thanks for stopping by. As always, happy writing (and reading) to you. 

  • Book Review: Thunderhead by Neal Schusterman

    Thunderhead (Arc of a Scythe, #2)Thunderhead by Neal Shusterman
    My rating: 5 of 5 stars

    How did I not already write a review for this fantastic sequel to Scythe?! Well, here we go:

    I would argue that Thunderhead was an even better book than the first book in this series, and that’s a rare thing to find in the world of trilogies. Fast paced, high-stakes, multiple plot threads and character arcs, and an ending that left me reeling and wanting more!

    A hard copy of Thunderhead is selling on Amazon for $15.00 right now.  Not bad.  If you’re not into buying from Amazon, it’s available through ten other sellers.  Check out the Goodreads page for a listing.

    I digress.

    Thunderhead picks up several months after the point where Scythe ends. There are many elements of this book that Schusterman did fantastically well. I’ll start with the thing I found most impressive: his handling of a difficult POV. The chapters tend to jump from character to character, so it’s easy to think that the book is written in limited serial third person, but it isn’t. It’s actually written using an omniscient POV, with the POV emphasis placed on a different character in each chapter. He did a brilliant job with this.

    The characters really started to come into their own in this book. That’s something else Schusterman does well. Not that the characterizations were lacking in Scythe. It’s just that in this book, both Citra (now more Scythe Anastasia) and Rowan Damisch are developed in a more multifaceted manner.  Also, the new character, Grayson, was a welcome addition to the cast.  His story exposed readers to a whole other aspect of the world previously unexplored. Speaking of previously unexplored, several supporting characters from Scythe get a lot of time on the page.

    I must admit, I’m struggling to get into the main villain of this series.

    SPOILER TO FOLLOW!! 

    Stop reading here if you don’t want any of the plot elements revealed before you go and read this excellent book.

     

    Goddard is brought back as the main villain, despite having been decapitated at the end of the last book. This felt like a cheap trick to me. Like something you might expect of a cheesy daytime soap opera. I have to wonder if that was Schusterman’s plan from the outset.  Or, did he think of it later and architect an explanation to let it work.  It feels like the latter, because he failed to drop any hints at the end of Scythe that maybe Goddard and some of his crew weren’t quite as deceased as everyone thought. Had he dropped that hint, I would have willingly gone along with this storyline. As it stands, it felt too forced.

    The Thunderhead becomes an active character in this book (hence the title). All I have to say about this benevolent overseer is this: ripe for a psychotic break. We shall see.

    I can’t remember the last time an ending to a book left me so breathless and excited. I highly recommend Thunderhead, and I can’t wait for the next book in the series. There is a major plot development that has yet to be explored. What shall Rowan and Scythe Faraday find when they visit the Land of Nod?

    View all my reviews over on Goodreads.