Saladin Ahmed’s THRONE OF THE CRESCENT MOON and 4000 words on why I couldn’t finish it

THIS POST IS PART OF DIVERSITY PROGRAMME WHEREIN I REVIEW A MALE WRITER WITHOUT EXPRESS PURPOSE OF THRASHING HIM, HOWEVER MALE WRITERS WILL BE EVALUATED UNDER MICROSCOPE AND SUBJECTED TO HARSH JUDGMENT JUST LIKE WOMEN WRITERS

The Crescent Moon Kingdoms, land of djenn and ghuls, holy warriors and heretics, Khalifs and killers, is at the boiling point of a power struggle between the iron-fisted Khalif and the mysterious master thief known as the Falcon Prince. In the midst of this brewing rebellion a series of brutal supernatural murders strikes at the heart of the Kingdoms. It is up to a handful of heroes to learn the truth behind these killings:

Doctor Adoulla Makhslood, “The last real ghul hunter in the great city of Dhamsawaat,” just wants a quiet cup of tea. Three score and more years old, he has grown weary of hunting monsters and saving lives, and is more than ready to retire from his dangerous and demanding vocation. But when an old flame’s family is murdered, Adoulla is drawn back to the hunter’s path.

Raseed bas Raseed, Adoulla’s young assistant, a hidebound holy warrior whose prowess is matched only by his piety, is eager to deliver God’s justice. But even as Raseed’s sword is tested by ghuls and manjackals, his soul is tested when he and Adoulla cross paths with the tribeswoman Zamia.

Zamia Badawi, Protector of the Band, has been gifted with the near-mythical power of the Lion-Shape, but shunned by her people for daring to take up a man’s title. She lives only to avenge her father’s death. Until she learns that Adoulla and his allies also hunt her father’s killer. Until she meets Raseed.

When they learn that the murders and the Falcon Prince’s brewing revolution are connected, the companions must race against time–and struggle against their own misgivings–to save the life of a vicious despot. In so doing they discover a plot for the Throne of the Crescent Moon that threatens to turn Dhamsawaat, and the world itself, into a blood-soaked ruin.

The decision to review this book germinated when Saladin Ahmed tweeted a negative review and said he felt bad, so I offered, “I could try to out-negative her if you like!”

It was a joke.

If you liked this book, stop now. If you wrote this book, really, really stop now.

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THE FUTURE OF US is a “Like” sign slapping the face of humanity, forever

It’s 1996, and less than half of all American high school students have ever used the Internet.

Emma just got her first computer and an America Online CD-ROM.

Josh is her best friend. They power up and log on–and discover themselves on Facebook, fifteen years in the future.

Everybody wonders what their Destiny will be. Josh and Emma are about to find out.

I’ve read tie-ins. I’ve read the worst of what the SFF genre has to offer.

I have never read a single book more vacuous, more pointless and hackneyed than The Future of Us. This book is what happens when a pair of people who can’t write decide they can. This book is what people who have nothing of worth or merit in their skulls would produce under the misapprehension that they have something  faintly clever to say. Other books have been offensive; other books have been varying levels of terrible… but nothing beats the vapid, useless, pointless, talentless blackhole that is the combined force of Jay Asher and Carolyn Mackler. There isn’t a single solitary page in this novel that provides any value outside of being fuel, toilet paper, or wastebasket lining.

It’s a novel you can only write if you think there’s nothing outside of your white, straight, middle-class American world, your midlife crisis, and a nostalgia for your even more vapid white, straight, middle-class American teenage years. This novel is the essence of what makes Americans mockable. It’s the embodiment of utter mindlessness, a laser-point focus on shit that doesn’t matter, an ode to the glory of having no imagination stuffed with painful pop-culture references worthless to anybody with a real culture to appreciate. The fact that Amazon reports a sales rank of #3722 overall and #89 in “Teens > Science Fiction and Fantasy” at the time of this writing should tell you all you need to know about the great American reading public.

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Brodi Ashton’s EVERNEATH or “why do I even bother with YA”

Last spring, Nikki Beckett vanished, sucked into an underworld known as the Everneath, where immortals Feed on the emotions of despairing humans. Now she’s returned- to her old life, her family, her friends- before being banished back to the underworld…this time forever. She has six months before the Everneath comes to claim her, six months for good-byes she can’t find the words for, six months to find redemption, if it exists. Nikki longs to spend these months reconnecting with her boyfriend, Jack, the one person she loves more than anything. But there’s a problem: Cole, the smoldering immortal who first enticed her to the Everneath, has followed Nikki to the mortal world. And he’ll do whatever it takes to bring her back- this time as his queen. As Nikki’s time grows short and her relationships begin slipping from her grasp, she’s forced to make the hardest decision of her life: find a way to cheat fate and remain on the Surface with Jack or return to the Everneath and become Cole’s…

If the synopsis alone is already making you perform a facepalm-groan combination, fear not: it made me groan too. It’s YA. It’s a shitty Persephone/Hades retelling with shitty, cutesy terms the author probably thinks teenagers would make up, while insisting that we take them completely seriously as part of her setting’s mythos (Everliving! The Tunnels!). It’s the kind of novel that wants you to believe teenage love is forever, the kind of novel that can’t be taken seriously if you are an adult. What more needs to be said? It’s so samey and pointless and worthless that even my review of it will be half-assed despite the length. This is the kind of book that has nothing to say, and which you can’t say anything about due to its inherent hollowness, the kind of book that could kill you by sheer ennui. In short, it’s emblematic of much of YA as a genre.

But at least the gender politics in this book are less fucked-up than usual. Huzzah!
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THE AUTHORITY: WORLD’S END #1-19, omg Dan Abnett <3 <3

Oh my god.

Midnighter/Apollo is OFFICIALLY MY FAVORITE SUPERHERO COUPLE and by that I mean the only superhero couple I like and ABNETT HAS MADE THE AUTHORITY DECENT AGAIN, best writer since Ellis dropped it and indeed the first writer since Ellis who has made me give a damn.

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in the grim darkness of future there is demonic foeyay – Dan Abnett’s EISENHORN

Inquisitor Eisenhorn is one on the most senior members of the Imperial Inquisition. With his warband he scourges the galaxy in order to root out heresy. When that heresy is found to infiltrate the hierarchy of the Imperium and the Inquisition itself, he must rely on himself alone to deal with it – even if it means making deals with the enemy.

Note: I wrote this review before I’d read, and reviewed, Ravenor. Ravenor is very much better than this, but if you want a little background Eisenhorn is just about decent enough to bother with.

My main motivation, I will not lie, in reviewing this is so I can say fuck you Jim Butcher and the giant dick you rode in on. Oh yes. For, you see, Eisenhorn isn’t just about BURN THE HERETICS (though it’s very much about that), it’s essentially noir in space.
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grimdark is BEST SERVED COLD

Springtime in Styria. And that means war.There have been nineteen years of blood. The ruthless Grand Duke Orso is locked in a vicious struggle with the squabbling League of Eight, and between them they have bled the land white. While armies march, heads roll, and cities burn, behind the scenes bankers, priests and older, darker powers play a deadly game to choose who will be king.

War may be hell, but for Monza Murcatto, the Snake of Talins, the most feared and famous mercenary in Duke Orso’s employ, it’s a damn good way of making money too. Her victories have made her popular – a shade too popular for her employers taste. Betrayed, thrown down a mountain and left for dead, Murcatto’s reward is a broken body and a burning hunger for vengeance. Whatever the cost, seven men must die.

A riveting tale of GRIMDARK, MAN, GRIMDAAAARK.

I dearly hope this book’s supposed to be a comedy, because there’s no way it can be seriously taken even remotely slightly. I have the suspicion, however, that I’m laughing at, not with, Abercrombie.

(Huge rape trigger in footnote.)
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Planescape: Torment: or, why weird fantasy doesn’t just come in books

If you ask most people, they got into fantasy through LOTR or Narnia or even Harry Potter.

I got into it through a video game. And I’m not ashamed to admit it. At all. You see, instead of being about an orphan going off to fight the dark lord, or landed gentry joining a fellowship of classist Luddite white-supremacist aristocrats, it starts you off in a morgue. The character you’re going to play, and whom the story is about? Is dead.

This female corpse is making the rounds from slab to slab in the room. Her hair is knotted into a long braid and looped around her neck like a noose. Someone has stenciled the number “1096” onto her forehead, and her lips have been stitched closed.

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in the grim darkness of the future, one author is a better feminist ally than Joss Whedon


Dan Abnett: Ravenor
In the war–torn future of the 41st millennium, the Inquisition fights a secret war against the darkest enemies of mankind – the alien, the heretic and the daemon. The three stories in this omnibus tell the tale of Inquisitor Gideon Ravenor and his lethal band of operatives, whose investigations take them from the heart of the Scarus Sector to the wildest regions of space beyond, and even through time itself. Wherever they go, and whatever dangers they face, they will never give up until their mission succeeds.

Imagine Firefly in book form. Except Mal is all brain instead of brawn. Simon Tam is a veteran ex-military medic. Inara isn’t a courtesan but a highly trained telekinetic who’s too busy slaughtering people to pine after anybody, let alone break down in tears when the object of her affection goes and has sex with another woman. River is a haunted teenage boy. His protector is a Jayne who reads a lot of cheap erotica (that he doesn’t actually enjoy) and chain-smokes. Attrition rate? Much worse than in Serenity, because the modus operandi here is pyrrhic victory or total annihilation, fuckers, nothing in the between. You now what’s best, though? Joss Whedon’s horrible gender issues: ENTIRELY ABSENT.

That’s Ravenor.

To set a proper tone: Gideon Ravenor, inquisitor and our protagonist, used to be a brilliant young man with a promising career with the Imperial Inquisition ahead of him. Thanks to a devastating attack, he’s lost all his limbs, his face, much of his body. Little more than a sack of featureless flesh, he’s now confined to a force-chair and kept alive only through its life support systems. All he’s got left is his mind and a singular determination to destroy those who threaten the Imperium of Mankind. Cheery, no? Don’t worry, it doesn’t get better.
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