The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time by Mark Haddon

Date Published: 2003, Vintage.
ISBN: 1-4000-3271-7
# of Pages: 226

My mother's friend gave her a bunch of books he didn't want anymore, and the last time I visited I rummaged through the books that she wasn't interested in and was going to give away herself. I remembered that I'd heard a lot of good things about this one, but it wasn't really a subject that I was interested in. I decided to give it a shot anyway, and I really wasn't disappointed.

The story is from the point of view of an autistic child, Christopher, who discovers that his neighbor's dog has been murdered. This disturbs him, and he decides that he will be a detective and figure out who committed the murder and why. This gets him into all sorts of trouble and eventually his father forbids him from asking anybody about it anymore. This relatively small event precipitates an absolutely astonishing and heartbreaking snowballing of events that drastically changes this boy's life.

There were parts of this story that really affected me emotionally, and I find it very easy to identify with much of the boy's reasoning and thoughts. The disjointed narrative actually made me clamor to continue reading, rather than interrupting flow it really just made me eager to jump from one thing to the next. Haddon censored nearly nothing, but the narrator's perspective made it difficult at times to really decipher what was actually happening, as his inability to appreciate certain emotional responses and details made some things unclear. This just made the book more interesting, however.

Though they were relatively incidental bits and pieces, I enjoyed reading about things that were important to Christopher, such as his feelings about colors, textures, the way the world is organized, etc. Some of his observations were so spot on that I couldn't help but laugh. I especially liked his explorations on the topics of religion, reality, superstition, the arbitrary nature of most emotions and decisions, etc.

One unexpected touch was his dedication to his pet rat, which reminded me of Daniel Keyes' Flowers for Algernon, which actually might be due for a re-read. It's really been since junior high or something preposterous like that.

Bloodlist by P.N. Elrod

Date Published: 1990, ACE Fantasy
ISBN: 0-441-06795-6
# of Pages: 200

I picked this book up in a bargain bin a number of years back. I was going through the heaps of books I have piled in boxes recently in a painful effort to rid myself of those that I REALLY NO SERIOUSLY never plan on getting around to, and this little book was uncovered. I've obviously been in a vampire mood lately and it looked quirky enough to tickle me, so I gave it a chance.

It was honestly about what I expected, though I was certainly entertained and sometimes meeting expectations is better than being pleasantly surprised. The premise is this -- a man wakes up one day to find that he has been murdered. He is able to determine this, of course, because he is now undead -- a vampire. The gimmick becomes clear at this point. He's able to track down and punish his own murderer, and the process is charming, as he must team up with a quirky British private investigator who is utterly intrigued by the protagonist's "condition".

I was a little turned off at first by the traditional way in which vampires in this story were imagined (the need to sleep with one's native soil, difficulty crossing running water, ability to become invisible, etc.) but I got caught up in it pretty quickly and while it's still not the sort of vampire I prefer (it all just strikes me as SO far-fetched that it's hard for me to suspend disbelief) I did find it fun being involved in a story in which something so fantastical was wrapped up in something as mundane as a detective story.

Oh -- and the setting is post-prohibition Chicago for the most part, which is charming for its own reasons. It's really actually very "cute", in a loose sense of that word. Again, what I mostly enjoyed was seeing a vampire character forced to deal with a genre that traditionally has never seemed to have any room for the supernatural.

Great Ghosts by Daniel Cohen

Date Published: 1990, Scholastic Inc.
ISBN: 0-590-45108-1
# of Pages: 48

I used to love reading these little ghost/horror books when I was a child, so I couldn't help but throw this one in the bag when I was at a used book sale at the mall recently. It was one of those "fill a bag for $1" sales, which are impossible to resist when you like books and might have a slight hording issue when it comes to them, SO. Here it is.

Anyway, I was overall not too disappointed with this collection, given the age/grade level this was geared towards (and especially considering the time this was published -- oh early 90s juvenile paperbacks!) Having said that, the only story in the collection that I got even the slightest thrill from was the last one, but I will get to that in a moment.

The first story in the collection is An Ancient Ghost, which is pretty much about exactly what it sounds like. It supposedly takes place in ancient Greece -- you know this because it says so and because the main character is "a scholar" and he reads. Not to analyze these four double-spaced pages too deeply or anything, but I was especially tickled by the "learn-ed people are idiots and never pay attention to the supernatural" subtext.

The Man in Grey is your basic "theatre ghost" story. There isn't much else to say about that.

The Berkeley Square "Horror" was perplexing to me before I even began reading, but mostly because of the unnecessary quotation marks in the title. There was very little to get worked up about in this tale - some people go into a haunted room and get themselves killed. No one knows how it happened. No one knows why it happened. No one cares. No one also bothered to edit. Favorite line: "His face wore a look of utter terror." Mr. Cohen, come on now.

The Screaming Skull is interesting if only because it would be fucking awesome if some dead guy's skull screamed every time you picked it up, which is pretty much all that happens in this story. It also purportedly brings "bad luck", as it is the skull of a West Indian slave who was pissed about being taken out of his native land. Things are struck by lightening, which is obviously supernatural.

The Flying Dutchman is omg the Flying Dutchman.

The Bell Ringer's Ghost is about a monk who fails to protect his abbey by falling asleep on the job of bell-ringing when a flood comes and kills a bunch of people. His ghost feels guilty so he protects people that come to visit the abbey and stuff. It's alright.

I'm looking again at The Brown Lady but it must have been unimpressive because I don't remember anything.

Bentham's Headless Ghost is barely about a ghost at all. Not completely sure why this was included, except that it's sort of icky. "Bentham's ghost has been reported in the halls of the University. The spectre carries his skull under his arm. Sometimes, it is said, he rolls his skull down the corridors, like a bowling ball." That's pretty much it.

I did enjoy Winterton's Spirit because it was kind of what the fuck. Some guy is supposedly dead, another guy sees his ghost which tells him that he is in fact NOT dead, he goes to warn the coroner that he isn't dead and his body is gone.

?????

So that is sort of confusing. But neat. More of a zombie story than a ghost story, perhaps? "Winterton was never found, dead or alive. His spirit did not appear to Hassan again." DUDE.

A Hunger Like Fire by Greg Stolze

Date Published: 2004, White Wolf Publishing.
ISBN: 1-58846-862-3
# of Pages: 283

I have to preface this with an admission -- I've never played White Wolf's games before, and I really didn't have any sort of precedent before opening this book. What I did have was a frustrating desire to read more snappy, bitey vampires novels following Chuck Wendig's Double Dead, which I had the pleasure of finishing late last month. I originally obtained this book about six years ago, when I was in the middle of highschool (has it really been that long?!) and I remember reading it and liking it, but I didn't actually remember the story very much. Oops. I found it on my shelf after browsing my extensive collection (ahem) and decided to give it another go, based on the fond memories and everything.

It didn't disappoint. I was a bit out of the loop because I wasn't familiar with some of the key plot elements that are apparently a component of Vampire: The Requiem but things sort of settled out for me as the story progressed, and I found myself actually pretty comfortable with many of the terms and references and mechanics, which I think is a testament to the strength of the book. It does introduce things very gradually and keeps your interest peaked, and I think that's why I enjoyed this despite not being a player.

It does help that the story begins following Bruce, who is really a newcomer to vampires himself. It follows his realization that he has been "embraced" (read: transformed into a vampire) and carries on from there as he adapts to his new life. It also follows Persephone Moore, who is also a newer vampire, but by the action of the story is already well aware of it and is struggling more with the consequences of being the only "childe" of the city's Prince vampire, Maxwell. The problem is that there is an overall ban on creating new vampires, and it is not faring well for Maxwell's political support.

The political aspects of the novel are what did not move me much in the beginning but what eventually carried me into it and got me involved towards the middle. I was intrigued and curious about the mechanics and uses of the system. What did bother me was some of the characterization. I enjoyed the minor characters more than the two main characters, I think, though of the two (Bruce and Persephone) I would have to admit a solid preference for Bruce, who just rang much truer to me than Persephone, who was a bit too much in all senses of the phrase (too beautiful, too adaptable, too capable, especially for someone who was supposed to be new to the game). I did like hearing about how each new vampire dealt with cutting off ties with their former life. I don't recall hearing very much about this in other vampire stories so it was interesting and engaging.

There are, from what I can gather with my Google-fu, two more novelizations similar to this one, and I already have them both (though they are unread). I'm eager to get into them, but have some other things I want to finish up first. I'm a bit disappointed that there aren't more than that, if this book is any indication of their quality. It looks like the middle one is written by a different author from the first and third, so I guess it's really a crapshoot.

Double Dead by Chuck Wendig

Date Published: 2011, Abaddon.
ISBN: 978-1-907992-41-4
# of Pages: 168

Yes, yes, a thousand times yes. Where do I even begin? When I was a preteen I went through an obligatory vampire phase that was regrettably short lived due to just how picky I am about these sorts of things. I didn't give up vampires because I didn't like them, I gave up vampires because I had run out of vampire material that was truly awesome. It took about roughly six months.

So oh how long have I awaited a story like Chuck Wendig's novel, which I just by-chance happened to pick up off the rack at a bookstore a week ago and proceeded to tear through in two days. It was absolutely everything I love about horror/fantasy. Zombies and vampires are nothing new, but Wendig makes it seem like they are. Who knew that all that was needed to refresh both zombies and vampires was to just smash them together?

Of course, Double Dead is more than that. Coburn the vampire, the novel's main protagonist, is delightful. See how he systematically devours human after human with no remorse, see how he quips his way through many a conversation. I imagine some might be offended by the profanity (oh god the profanity) and in some cases I'd be tempted to agree, but it just seems so necessary for the character that I actually found myself enjoying the various ways in which Coburn derided, abused and dismissed his human compatriots. He is a vampire after all, let's not forget that. He certainly wouldn't let you.

While the entire plot really centers around the relationship Coburn develops with a band of humans that have somehow managed to survive the zombie apocalypse, I enjoyed far more the instances in which Coburn was allowed to have free reign on the narrative. There is a particularly gruesome scene involving cannibals and a WalMart that I would prefer not to ruin for anyone. I think this might be due to my general dislike of the other main protagonist, a young girl named Kayla whose blood has some seriously neat and magical properties. I found her contribution to the overall plot really enjoyable, but her as an individual -- not so much. It's difficult for me to pinpoint why, but I might just really not like teenagers. Iunno.

But this is a relatively minor blip on the radar screen of overall awesome that is Double Dead. Give me more, I say. The ending of the novel (as well as some loose threads earlier on that are not actually quite as loose as they are just sort of waiting -- such as wtf tell me more about Coburn's maker) really begs for more.

The universe the novel takes place in is awesome on its own (keep your eye out early on for INSANE MUTANT VAMPIRE ZOMBIES, I'm not making this up) but what really made this novel work for me was the obvious work put into character development. I feel like people talk a lot of talk about how important being able to connect to characters is, but few walk the walk. Wendig does. I trust him with my hard-earned, distractionary book money. If you even care a little bit about vampires, zombies or really cool shit in general, you should, too.

Identity by Milan Kundera

Date Published: 1997, HarperCollins Publishers.
ISBN: 0-06-093031-4
# of Pages: 168

This book was assigned for my Philosophy in Literature course this semester -- predictably during the unit we are doing on identity, haha. I think I really enjoyed this book, but I'm still not really sure what happened or what the conclusion really is. I tried to read another book by Kundera in the past (The Unbearable Lightness of Being) and I had a really hard time with it and had to put it down. I found this read much easier, but I'm not sure if it's just because I'm older. (I was 18 when I tried to read the other book and I am now 21. For whatever that's worth.)

What I got out of this was a sort of conversation between the psychological and materialist approaches to the philosophy of identity. I want to say that the materialist view won out in the end, but I'm not sure if that's just my bias! The bulk of the story is a series of conflicts that take place between a couple, Jean-Marc and Chantal, that generally center around misunderstandings about each other's motivations, thoughts, desires, etc. Personality stuff that we think we should know about our loved ones. Jean-Marc has some serious issues with bodies (for example, he dropped out of medical school because he could not deal with the reality of dead bodies, or seeing bodies as simply bodies at all -- and he has a weird hangup on simple functions of female bodies, such as blinking, that makes them unattractive to him at times). Chantal seems more comfortable with bodies, but struggles because she feels that she is expected to be guided by something more than that. Jean-Marc tends to idealize her and not see her for the body she truly is.

In the end, Chantal seems to relax and throw aside the expectations that hold her back. There are a lot of references and descriptions of sight and of the literal, physical eyeball along with visual cues, such as the color red. The last line of the story has Chantal insisting on leaving a light on so that she can better see Jean-Marc, and I read that as a sort of conquest of the physical over the idealized spiritual or psychological.

ANYWAY, I enjoyed reading it and thinking about it, but now I have to write a paper that uses this and John Locke, so I am a little resentful. I think I'll like it more again once this paper is finished!

Thirteen Orphans by Jane Lindskold

Date Published: 2008, Tor Fantasy.
ISBN: 978-0-7653-5621-5
# of Pages: 500

It had been a while since I really involved myself in a silly fantasy novel, and I had seen this book on the shelves of a few bookstores and had been attracted to the cover. When I was at a small local bookstore not too long ago I saw it again and just had to finally buy it. I'm really glad I did, because it was an altogether enjoyable reading experience.

The story mainly follows Brenda, a young adult who learns that her father is a member of the "thirteen orphans", a group of people exiled from a mystical land that is semi-analogous to the China in our world. Each of the thirteen orphans represents one of the Chinese zodiac signs -- plus a thirteenth, the cat. The cat is the descendent of an old emperor that was exiled with the thirteen orphans. Since then, the zodiac heritage and the magical powers that go along with each have been passed down to one person from each subsequent generation. Brenda's father is the Rat.

Quickly, Brenda, her father and the Tiger, an older woman who was once a child actor, realize that someone from this mystical land has come to try to steal the memories connected with each orphan and go on a complicated journey to try to retrieve the memories that have already been stolen and prevent any more from being taken, including their own.

There was a lot of exposition in this novel that I felt could have been done away with, as much of it centered on knowledge of mah jong that was not really necessary to the plot and was actually very difficult to trudge through if you had no experience with mah jong. The magic would have worked out well enough logically without explaining what each set of tiles does, etc. Regardless, using the mah jong as magic was a really original and interesting decision.

I enjoyed reading about how each character fulfilled certain aspects of their zodiac animal and it was fun to see Brenda progress and grow comfortable in her role as the heir of the Rat. The ending was actually a bit abrupt, and I was surprised at how few pages it took to resolve some very major, key plot points, but there is a second (and I believe third?) book thus far in the series and I am eager to get my hands on them. Some issues may have been resolved a bit quicker and more easily than I would have suspected, but some more complicated issues arise towards the end of the novel that make closing the back cover a bit agonizing.

The writing is so-so, I've never read anything by Lindskold before and it seems to be pretty standard mid-quality fantasy. I already mentioned the issues with exposition, but some of the sentences are choppy and I found the perspective switching in third person a bit awkward and occasionally found myself unsure about whose thoughts were being portrayed, especially when a change of setting or time was not clear.

In short, I would recommend this book to someone who already likes fantasy and is willing to put up with a bit of unnecessary description in order to get to some fun and original ideas and adventure.