Ready Player One: 2013 Book #15

I loved this book.

A couple people highly recommended it to me, and after reading the synopsis I could tell (unless the author’s style completely grated on me) that I’d love it. As a child of the 80s and a gamer both back then and today, the book was already tailored to appeal to me, and thematically it explored a lot of interesting issues beyond games, but with privacy, consumption and the relationship between our online personalities and our real selves.

The whole thing was pretty brilliant. Here and there, I found myself wishing the author would skip on some of the description and keep the story moving. While his knowledge of retro games and pop-culture is rock solid and obscure, at times Cline gets lost in geeking out on some of this stuff and it makes passages drag. It was definitely the exception rather than the rule, however. For the most part, it didn’t get in the way of my enjoyment.

After reading this – I want to play in OASIS. I’ve dabbled in a couple MMOs, and that sense of immersion – of visiting other worlds, is one of the aspects that appeals to me most. I don’t play Lord of the Rings Online because the game mechanic is innovative or because I like grinding the same quests over and over. I play because the world of Middle Earth is beautifully rendered, and because there’s nothing quite like exploring a universe I’ve come to love and adore.

I missed the book when it first came out, but one of people who recommended this to me mentioned that Cline had hidden an Easter Egg in the book that led to an offline contest for a Delorean, which is a pretty sweet piece of book promotion and also goes hand in hand with the whole simulation within a simulation within a simulation theme in the book. Of course, the contest is long since over, the car long since won, but I hope that one day in my lifetime games reach this level of immersion. Of course, without all the dystopia and human suffering.

Midwestern Gothic Issue 9

There’s a new issue of Midwestern Gothic, and it’s a beaut.

Issue 9 (Spring 2013) of Midwestern Gothic marked a bit of a change for us – I’m not entirely sure what caused it – but our submissions doubled this time around. After a few days I thought it might be a fluke, but as they continued to roll in, it quickly became obvious we had a lot more to sift through than we usually did. The net result of that – we got a lot of good stuff. We had to turn down a lot of good stuff. I met one of the people we rejected at AWP this year, and she asked what she needed to do differently, and I said, “Nothing. Submit another story with that same aesthetic and energy – this time around we just got another story about a similar subject that we liked better.” Uff. A great problem to have, and we definitely ended up with a strong issue because of it.

Probably my favorite of the bunch was a story that meanders to the edge of what we usually take. If a story or poem has surreal elements or is too strongly genre, we’ll typically use that as a way of cutting down the submissions. “The Sting” by William Blomstedt, is very Kafka-esque, in that it deals with a man’s partial transformation. The gist of the story is, a sexually frustrated and inept beekeeper gets stung “down there” and suddenly has ever woman in the small town he lives in knocking on his door. There were quite a few chuckle-worthy moments in the story, and I loved watching the character go from uncertain loner to sexual dynamo in such a ridiculous manner. The danger with a story like this is that it becomes trite or too far-fetched, but Blomstedt struck an excellent balance, and the whole piece has a light-hearted clear voice that makes it a joy to read. Here’s one of my favorite passages:

Bees never seem to know what to do after they have stung someone. It is, after all, a unique event in their lives. A bee’s stinger is connected to the organs in her abdomen. The barbed stinger enters the victim’s skin and it gets wedged like an arrow in the dermal layer. When the bee pulls away from her victim, the stinger stays in the skin and the bee’s stomach and other vital organs are ripped out of the exoskeleton. This trait was evolutionarily selected because it allows the bee’s venom sac to continually pump poison into the predator after it has been separated. The bee dies with the honor of offering her life in the defense of her home and family. Jake always found this fascinating: hive mentality at its finest.

This bee on his arm was going through the confusing transformation from a working member of the hive to a martyr. With her fluttering wings and body spinning around in circles, she reminded Jake of a little, living tether ball. Jake watched the insect in curiosity and sadness. What, if anything, was going through that little bee’s mind? Was she satisfied that she had fulfilled her purpose in life, having done her best to drive this honey-stealing devil away? After a few seconds, her inner organs gave in to the struggle and she pulled her body free, leaving a small trail of yellow gunk along Jake’s arm. ‘What in the world does that feel like?’ Jake wondered as the bee walked a few steps and then stopped to clean her antennae.

This bee could live for another hour but would eventually stop flying and die alone in the grass. Ants or other small insects would dismember the body and eat it, or it would just decompose into a small, smelly mess. Jake decided to aid the process and flicked the bee, sending her flying out of the truck into the high grass. He pinched the stinger out of his arm, which had already started to turn red and form a welt. ‘Well,’ he thought, ‘two stings on the day so far. Let’s see how many more it will be.’ Jake took his veil and gloves from the passenger seat and began to suit up, preparing for the ordeal ahead of him.

Buy a copy of Issue 9 and get acquainted with more emerging and established Midwestern writers.

Hapax: 2013 Book #12

4 out of 5 stars

I thought this was an incredibly strong debut for an author, and I actually struggled with giving it 3 stars or 4 stars. The more I think about it, the more I think I enjoyed the book, especially because Bryski was able to keep me engaged in a story that’s not necessarily in my wheelhouse – one built around themes, characters and settings dealing with religion.

Bryski seemed to borrow from a few different Christian religions to construct the belief system that pervades the Ecclesiat – it felt familiar enough to not get lost in the dogma, but unique enough to be her own. I also thought she did an excellent job not getting bogged down in the particulars – if it was necessary to know an aspect of the religion to forward the story or round out a character, it was included. If it wasn’t, it was omitted.

I also really enjoyed the tension between the differing factions within the church. Normally in a story like this, its the old guard who clings hard to dogma, and the youngsters are the ones who challenge the status quo. It was the opposite in Hapax, with Alesta, one of the youngest leaders of the church ever, taking the hard line stance in end times, while Gaelin, the wizened old monk acknowledging that even the Beast (cast as the well-meaning Satan in the world of Hapax) has a role to play in the world.

The book was well plotted, and her characterization was excellent. Only one felt superfluous to me, Praeton, who is also involved in a twist at the end that I felt was also superfluous. The ending is what knocked this down from a strong 4 to a weak 4 for me, without giving too much away, I thought it was far too saccharine for my tastes. Part of that may be preference, I like my endings messy, and Hapax ends about as clean as you can get. All in all, I really liked reading it, and if Bryski comes out with another book set in this universe or otherwise, I’ll likely check it out.

Farside: 2013 Book #11

2 out of 5 stars

Ben Bova is a fairly prolific science fiction and fact author, and this is my first foray into his catalog. While I thought the concept held a lot of promise and the science behind the fiction was pretty rock solid, I found myself generally underwhelmed by the tale. It’s almost as if he was writing by formula, and a lot of the prose fell flat on the page. New character entering? Spend a paragraph describing them. Important plot point? Have a character repeat it at lease three times so we make sure to get it.

I also found a lot of key character interactions to be flawed. The whole tale is spun as a mystery – when things start going wrong on this remote moon base, it reads as if the author is trying to spin a whodunnit tale of mystery and intrigue. Yet the identity and the cause of all that’s going on can be seen coming a mile away. And despite every character in Farside being a brilliant scientist, they sure are idiots when it comes to human nature. Two competing agencies racing to discover New Earth, with billions of dollars in funding hanging in the balance. Yet the heads of each respective program think nothing of using the same scientist to help them complete their projects. Nor does anyone think of a reason why these rivals might want to sabotage each other.

In fact, the idea that Farside would allow the head of a rival program and a former employee who is now being employed by said program anywhere near their facilities is a giant plot hole. It reduced most of the believability of the plot, and rendered a lot of the characters impotent.

That said, it was still a relatively entertaining read. It moves at a brisk pace, and the threat of discovering New Earth or having the entire base fall prey to destructive influences is enough to keep the pages turning. And Simpson is an excellent character amid a sea of flat personas – his never-say-quit drive and willingness to go to any lengths for the sake of the work amid a group of scientists who seem more concerned with politics makes for a nice tension.

Bull – Men’s Fiction 1 & 2: 2013 Book #9 & 10

Allow me to go crazy here and combine two reviews into one post – namely because they belong to the same literary journal: Bull {Men’s Fiction}. What is men’s fiction? It’s not fiction by men. It’s fiction about men. After reading the two issues I received from the fine gentlemen next to our table at AWP, I can say two major themes run through everything I’ve read – fatherhood and male inadequacy. Most stories contain elements of both, but on the whole a lot of the stories deal with men’s role in changing environments.

Issue 1

4 out of 5 stars

Of the two, this issue was definitely my favorite. Consequently, it also contains the journal’s only female authors. It also contains two stories that play with format and structure, including The Heart is a Strong Instrument by Jon Morgan Davies, in which online avatars and chat is employed to tell a story of a man trying to find love in a (virtual?) environment.

Perhaps my favorite story was Separation, by Tom Bonfiglio. Contains, probably, the best sex scene I’ve read in a lit journal, and its only a paragraph long. The evolving relationship between Jon and Jill is multifaceted and inevitable, and the slippery slope of Jon taking a stand for his beliefs contrasted with his conflict of ending up friends with a convicted sex offender was top notch.

My one disappointment was the interview. Chuck Klosterman is a giant of a Midwestern writer – and major kudos to these guys for landing him. But it felt like any other writer interview, like something you might read in a GQ or Rolling Stone. Bull has an amazing aesthetic going, and I would have rather seen the interview take that tone – exploring masculinity issues with Klosterman rather than talking exclusively craft. Maybe it’s just me.

Issue 2

3 out of 5 stars

Issue 2 contained a couple prior Midwestern Gothic contributors, including a novella by Adam Schuitema. I still liked it, and it was still a strong issue, but it lacked the standout stories (for me anyway) of issue 1.

One exception was Here Be Dragons by Chris Tarry. It tells the story of two men in medieval times, their adventures in fooling entire villages into thinking they are dragon slayers and then moving into the struggles of stay-at-home dadhood. Sounds comedic and filled with delicious satire – which is is. But it also touches on dark aspects of fatherhood, and how two men deal with their new found inadequacy and role in completely different (yet inevitably similar) ways.

Aside from that story – the fiction was strong, and enjoyable to read, but nothing that made me stand up and take notice. Again here, the interview with Donald Ray Pollock was solid, but I’d rather they explore issues of masculinity as it relates to fiction rather than focusing exclusively on craft and biography.

I think they did a commendable job of gathering a variety of different perspectives on “improvement,” the theme tying this issue together. Some men fail, some men succeed, and some stay exactly the same – which is how it should be. From an editorial perspective, I felt like they winnowed around the foundation of what a man has to do to improve himself, which I do believe is a driving force that defines many men. Yes, women strive to improve and better themselves, but for men it is expected. You build, you learn, you craft, you learn from your mistakes, you push forward with ambition. The improvement issue explores what happens when men live up to that expectation, and when they walk away from it.

Cloud Atlas: 2013 Book #8

3 out of 5 stars

Cloud Atlas was an uneven book for me. On the one hand, I thought the structure was brilliant. Loved how he told an interconnecting story across time, spanning 19th century slavers all the way to post-apocalyptic Hawaii and then going all the way back. I thought this technique of bookending the narrative lent itself well to telling stories within a larger story.

Some of these stories, I loved. Essentially, the middle 4 stories in the book worked for me. Hawaii, Korea, Cavendish and Seaboard are all fantastic, containing intertwining themes about politics, consumerism and family. And the characters really are kindred souls drifting across time, as the book jacket suggests.

Unfortunately, the two “bookends,” or the first and second story are dull and seem completely disconnected from the rest of the book, save for a cursory connection. (A discovered book, a penpal across the ocean.) I found myself so bored for the first 140 or so pages that I contemplated giving up. Then, when the book had delighted me and I hit those storylines again, I withheld judgement, hoping I’d appreciate the 2nd half of each of these stories given the context of the middle. I didn’t. The opening and the ending left me with a general sour taste in my mouth, even though I liked the middle bits.

Mitchell does do a phenomenal job mastering different voices and genres. The beginning feels very much like a tale from the old masters (Robinson Crusoe, etc.), while the end dips into solid sci-fi territory with dystopian themes. But even that can’t save the dullness or how flat the first and last 150 pages of the book feels. I’m interested to watch the movie now, to see how they pulled it off. Like the book, I could see it being brilliant, but I could also see it being a failure.

Cataclysm Baby: 2013 Book #7

4 out of 5 stars

What struck me most about Cataclysm Baby was its rhythm. I liken this book to one of Bell’s other stories – Wolf Parts. Individually, each of these 26 vignettes of failed parental and domestic relationships is a gut-wrenching look at how the most basic of all units – the family unit – breaks apart in the face of the apocalypse. But one after another, weight of each story continues to batter you as a reader. Until, like the ocean beating on a glacier or the wind cutting at stone, it simply becomes to much to bear and all the individual stories begin to resonate against each other, generating a sum sound greater than the parts.

The rhythm exists at each level of the collection – at the sentence level, where Bell takes meticulous care weighing the sound and timbre of each word in the reader’s mind. The paragraphs also echo each other, needling at each story from a multitude of angles with a familiar construct. Then the stories themselves, with echoing themes and their titles, each a trio of names that fit perfectly together.

If you’re a fan of dystopian fiction, and like your stories experimental – I wouldn’t hesitate to pick this up.

LoveStar: 2013 Book #6

4 out of 5 stars

Picked up this book after my local B&N didn’t have the one I was looking for, and I’m glad I stumbled upon this. On top of containing notes of Vonnegut, Orwell, I’ll also throw in Maxx Barry’s Syrup for good measure – science fiction that is unflinching in imagining the worst blend of advertising and human nature, yet finds hopeful stories of humanity in the almost post-apocalyptic fallout of a culture totally consumed with, well, consumption.

During the first few chapters, you might find some of the ideas preposterous – hijacking people’s vocal biology to artificially spread word of mouth, genetically engineering bizarre creatures or shooting deceased loved ones to fall from the sky – but Magnason weaves the fabric of this world so expertly before long you accept them as normal, and I caught myself laughing at the absurdity of some of the lengths the characters were forced to go to.

Even though this was written far before Facebook, Twitter, and all the other places we wirelessly communicate with the world, the vision of a future where we are all tapped to recommend products to each other based upon mountains of data isn’t that far off from the reality we have ended up in. While we don’t live in the world of absolute calculations and a single monolithic corporation, it doesn’t take much of an imagination to draw parallels between the themes of this book to our current world. I was also pleasantly surprised by the translation – had I not known this was first written in Icelandic going in, the beauty of this book was not lost in being converted to English.

Warm Bodies: 2013 Book #5

2 out of 5 stars

Perhaps I shouldn’t have seen the movie before reading the book, but then again, I probably wouldn’t have picked up the book without seeing the movie first. I very, very rarely like film adaptations more than their literary counterparts, but this was one of those cases.

Some notable choices the author made that I thought felt off when contrasted with the movie: Not allowing Julie’s father a chance at redemption, not letting the corpses have a chance at redemption, attempting to make the Boneys more than just husks of zombies who’d given up, all of the scenes with R and Julie in the Stadium.

Where the movie had heart, a bit of fun and plenty of poignant moments, the book felt like quite a few half formed thoughts strung together into a loose narrative. I did like the stronger connection to Perry, and how R seemed to find himself again through the experiences of another. It’s something that was lacking in the movie and felt like a half-formed thought in that adaptation. The characters were likable enough, the plot compelling enough, and the concept interesting enough to keep me entertained for what was ultimately a pretty quick read.

The Name of the Wind: 2013 Book #4

4 out of 5 stars

I got tipped off to this book from a friend with similar tastes, and when I added it to my Goodreads shelf, I noticed quite a few of my friends rated it very highly as well – including some folks who I know don’t usually read fantasy novels.

I think that speaks to one of the book’s strengths – building a compelling fantasy universe that has broad appeal. Kvothe’s story of struggle and growth from a tragedy, hitting rock bottom and finally attaining his dream, but having it not be what he’d hoped – that’s something everyone can relate to. There is magic, and there are strange creatures, but they almost exist outside the story. The real tale is Kvothe’s quest.

I found the main character confident, capable, and even cocky at points – but somehow Rothfuss managed to leave an overall impression in my mind as humble. Perhaps it was how he handles what Kvothe calls his most important relationship – the stuttering romance with Denna. After reading the book, I felt like the author may have overstated this, but I’m withholding judgement until I read the rest of the books in the series. Kvothe has lots of different relationships with lots of different people, but this one with Denna (aside from perhaps Auria), is what drives him to act in the way he acts for the key scenes in the book.

This leads me to what I felt was a big weakness for the book – this didn’t work 100% for me as a standalone book. I realize it is part of a series, but I didn’t feel any sort of solid resolution at the end of it. It felt like there were scenes missing after the last page (which I’m sure will be contained in the 2nd book) and the last two hundred pages felt unfocused.

SPOILERS AHEAD
The introduction of the sweet eating draccus felt like a hasty plot addition. Rather than providing meaningful progress along his hunt for the Chandrian, a creature that hasn’t been mentioned in the entire book is introduced, and perhaps forms (arguably) the climax of the book. After this, there are mini climaxes, with Ambrose, the University, Bast and Chronicler. All these combined led to me feeling the final pages of the book were the weakest.

I also wasn’t a fan of the structure. I had to struggle past the first 50 pages of introducing Chronicler before we got to the meat of Kvothe’s tale, which is one giant flashback. Again, as a series, this storyline may be compelling, but it nothing but get in the way in this first book. However, the book contained 500 pages that I thoroughly enjoyed, so I will definitely be reading the 2nd and 3rd edition in the series.