MLN Hanover/Daniel Abraham – UNREADABLE SPIRITS

Jayné Heller thinks of herself as a realist, until she discovers reality isn’t quite what she thought it was. When her uncle Eric is murdered, Jayné travels to Denver to settle his estate, only to learn that it’s all hers — and vaster than she ever imagined. And along with properties across the world and an inexhaustible fortune, Eric left her a legacy of a different kind: his unfinished business with a cabal of wizards known as the Invisible College.

Led by the ruthless Randolph Coin, the Invisible College harnesses demon spirits for their own ends of power and domination. Jayné finds it difficult to believe magic and demons can even exist, let alone be responsible for the death of her uncle. But Coin sees Eric’s heir as a threat to be eliminated by any means — magical or mundane — so Jayné had better start believing in something to save her own life.

Aided in her mission by a group of unlikely companions — Aubrey, Eric’s devastatingly attractive assistant; Ex, a former Jesuit with a lethal agenda; Midian, a two-hundred-year-old man who claims to be under a curse from Randolph Coin himself; and Chogyi Jake, a self-styled Buddhist with mystical abilities — Jayné finds that her new reality is not only unexpected, but often unexplainable. And if she hopes to survive, she’ll have to learn the new rules fast — or break them completely….

Oh fucking shit, even the synopsis is terrible. “A self-styled Buddhist with mystical abilities”? That giant human meat grinder is hungry for Daniel Abraham’s flesh.

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POISON STUDY by Maria V Snyder – more like rapeyness study

About to be executed for murder, Yelena is offered a reprieve. She’ll eat the best meals, have rooms in the palace, and risk assassination by anyone trying to kill the Commander of Ixia. And so Yelena chooses to become a food taster. But the chief of security, leaving nothing to chance, deliberately feeds her Butterfly’s Dust, and only by appearing for her daily antidote will she delay an agonizing death from the poison. As Yelena tries to escape her dilemma, disasters keep mounting. Rebels plot to seize Ixia and she develops magical powers she can’t control. Her life’s at stake again and choices must be made. But this time the outcomes aren’t so clear!

I kept getting whiplash, because Yelena Zaltana–heroine of Maria V Snyder’s Study series–keeps making me think of Zanja na’Tarwein, a much better character and one of the protagonists of Laurie J Marks’ far superior Elemental Logic books. They’re dark-skinned, I think, and wear red. But there the similarity ends.

Snyder’s Study series is remarkable in that it’s very thick with the rapeyness, something you don’t go in expecting on account of this being published by Harlequin. Or maybe you should expect it given that imprint, but it’s not a grimdark series and everything about its presentation suggests that it’d be safe enough to read. Most of it isn’t graphically depicted, but there is a heaping fat lot of sexual threat, incidents of rape, and the like.

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shitty YA cheatsheet with Farla – more on Graceling

Farla is a blogger who makes it a thing to dissect a lot of shitty books, many of them shitty YA (insofar that such a thing as “non-shitty YA” exists, which I’m not convinced it does in any appreciable quantity). I’ve been reading her take on The Hunger Games and Graceling, both books that curiously feature emotionally broken “strong” female protagonists, both books that (witness here a frothing fanboy defending the lack of homosexuality in The Hunger Games) feature unbelievably atrocious world-building, unbelievably idiotic names, and unbelievably terrible writing.

Even by YA standards (and those standards are so very low to begin with) Kristin Cashore can’t fucking write worth one bird dropping.

Since I’ve been reading along I thought I might as well do the meta thing and comment on the commentary. Farla has this irritating habit of equating “third-world” to places of starvation with no electricity

The fence is supposed to be electrified, but it only rarely is because they only get a few hours of electricity a day. This is the first suggestion this is more third-world than primitive.

–and I imagine it’d blow her mind to realize that some of us have not only electricity (constantly and reliably!) but also plumbing and Internet access, and this kind of third/first-world thing comes up a whole shitting lot in her analyses.  It’s that mindless, casual thing a lot of westerners do and they don’t even think it’s offensive in any way. This is why we want to kick you in the mouths, folks, and laugh as you choke to death on your own teeth. This is also why:

This is all particularly inane given that it’s standard in Western society that you can’t actually force someone into a marriage, there has to be some nominal amount of acceptance

Non-westerners, of course, constantly rape women and marriages aren’t even about nominal amount of acceptance oh fuck you. But, unfortunately for people who like Graceling this doesn’t mean I disagree with her views on Cashore’s steaming pile, so let’s get to that.

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BLACK BLADE BLUES – meh, JA Pitts

Sarah Beauhall has more on her plate than most twenty-somethings: day job as a blacksmith, night job as a props manager for low-budget movies, and her free time is spent fighting in a medieval re-enactment group.

And as if things weren’t surreal enough, Sarah’s girlfriend Katie breaks out the dreaded phrase… “I love you.” As her life begins to fall apart, first her relationship with Katie, then her job at the movie studio, and finally her blacksmithing career, Sarah hits rock bottom. It is at this moment, when she has lost everything she has prized, that one of the dragons makes their move.

And suddenly what was unthinkable becomes all too real…and Sarah will have to decide if she can reject what is safe and become the heroine who is needed to save her world.

Blah, blah, blah. I chopped off one paragraph from this synopsis, because fuck who cares about this pedestrian shit. “Pedestrian” is indeed the best word to apply to this book which, despite its rarity in being one of the few pro-published UF featuring a lesbian, is a giant bag of meh with some nice racefail balls to go with it.

Oh, and JA Pitts is, of course, a man using initials to obfuscate his gender from the book-buyer’s first glance. Tsk, tsk. Him and Daniel Abraham with that “MLN Hanover” schtick.

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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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giving up on GRACELING and why I’m done with YA

I got through 38 pages of Graceling before calling it quits. This isn’t because it’s an offensive book in any way. It’s because the writing, in two words, is intolerably shit.

Now you may tell me that it’s an excellent, pro-feminist book; you may tell me Katsa is a fantastic character with believable whatever. And you know, I believe you, really I do. I believe it’s a pro-feminist book, reviews of it have suggested it is so. I’m sure you enjoyed it and have perfectly valid reasons to love it. I recognize that a girl-positive novel is important, especially a YA one.

But to me personally and individually it isn’t enough; Feminism 101 is all well and good, but I’m not obliged to love it when it’s done up in mediocrity and generic setting by an author who as far as I can tell has no grasp on narrative structure or characterization whatsoever, and who harbors not a single original thought in her pages. If I’d felt such an obligation, I would have finished Malinda Lo’s Huntress, and if nothing else “East Asian lesbians who do stuff” is a far more interesting premise than “straight white girl who can kill with bare hands zzzz.” I’m just not that desperate. I’ve read Carter and Valente and Sedia, and just freshly I’ve come away from Helen Oyeyemi. Not only do these authors handle feminism at a more nuanced, more mature level, they can actually write–and whatever you may think of Cashore’s prose, you’ll probably agree that she doesn’t stand a chance next to Helen Oyeyemi or Nalo Hopkinson. It’s not that because Oyeyemi and Hopkinson exist Cashore doesn’t need to, it’s just that I’ve read better than Graceling. I’ve just read better, and on a personal level I find no reason to settle for something so direly third-rate when I’ve far from exhausted the first-rate stuff.

So this isn’t going to be a review. I’m just going to share my annotations on the book.

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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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TRIPTYCH lolblog p.2 – furry blue aliens and their ribcage cocks

YOU WILL SUFFER. YOU WILL ALL SUFFER.

He has chosen to be a “he.” Humans use pronouns to distinguish between individuals of specific genders. They have two genders among his people as well, of course — almost every copulating species does — but they aren’t as finicky about labelling them. They don’t dwell on sexuality and gender performance on his world…or rather, they did not. He has the reproductive organs of a male, or what the humans categorize as such, so he has decided that it is easiest to simply submit to the use of the aligned pronoun instead of insisting on the neutral.

DO YOU SEEEEEEEEE. Then the “males everywhere don’t know how to deal with an upset female” moment and toilet seats come up and all is lost.
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TRIPTYCH lolblog p. 1 – on singing kumbaya and time travel

Since I read most of my books electronically now I’ve developed a habit I’ve scientifically termed “highlight the fuck out of everything!” Normally these annotations amount to nothing: I only use a quote or two in the actual review. But by the time I was done with JM Frey’s Triptych I discovered I had made 179 annotations. In a book with 223 pages. That would mean only about 44 pages have no marks or notes that go along the line of “oh for fuck’s sake.”

Gentle readers, you will suffer as I have suffered.

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