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I joined Waterbrook’s (a division of Random House) book reviewer list to get free books a few months ago. I recently was offered a chance to review Andrew Peterson’s North! Or Be Eaten, book 2 of the Wingfeather Saga. I mentioned to the the lovely Staci Carmichael (person in charge of these books, and my new bff) that I hadn’t read book one, and she offered to send me book one along with book 2. Yay me! So, while I’m not going to do an in depth review of book one, I thought I’d write a little bit about it as a thank you to Staci for sending it to me.

In Andrew Peterson’s On The Edge of The Dark Sea of Darkness, Janner, Tink, and Leeli Igiby live under the oppression of the horrible Fangs of Dang- lizard-like creatures who delight in torturing humans, and in eating maggotloaf and other such culinary treats. These bad boys work for Gnag the Nameless, who (whom?) the book refers to as a nameless evil… Yeah, you can see why I liked it from the start.

Unfortunately, the Igiby children manage to draw an undue amount of attention to themselves, and in order to avoid death or enslavement, they, along with their one legged ex-pirate grandfather, and sensible mother, have to escape.

The book is interesting from the start, but mainly because of the humor, which is a cross between middle school boy humor (aka: booger jokes), and Terry Pratchett. It’s an odd mix, but I love it. The majority of the book is almost like back story, however, and doesn’t really pick up the pace until the final third of the book. It’s well worth the read, but is absolutely essential if you plan to read the much more active book 2. At the very least, the secondary characters and the humorous footnotes should keep you entertained until you reach the exciting bits.

This is a middle grade fantasy, so if you’re expecting Robert Jordan, give this a miss. If you like both Narnia and Terry Pratchett, this may be worth your while.

For the past week or so, I’ve been reading Jonathan Wild by Henry Fielding. I picked it up at a used book shop for a few cents, and the back copy looked intriguing. Sort of taking the wee out of politicians and such by expounding on how being a great man and being a good man are incompatible and making a mockery of such low and base attributes like, um, love, friendship, and honesty.

And it is a funny book, both for the reasons it was meant to be, and for clever little turns of phrases that manage to crack me up though I can’t remember them by the time I’m near a computer and hubby wouldn’t get it so… Anyway.

I have this thing about classics. I feel like I have to read each and every one of them at some point in time just so that I know what I’m missing by reading all my modern literature (even when by “modern” I mean the 1920’s, or even Jane Austen). I suppose it’s also a point of pride for me, having been one of the only half dozen or so in my English classes who actually understood Shakespeare (as well as you can without learning much about that time period), and one of the only two who actually liked Shakespeare.

The problem with some of these books, is that unless you’re a well versed historian (rather than someone who’s just into history), calling them classics is like a layman referring to the Hippocratic Oath as the end all be all of ethics. It may very well be, but we’ll never know unless we learn to read it in its original greek, and study all of its incarnations since then (cuz, really, if our doctors used the original Oath? A lot of things would be veeery different).

Without having the very basic understanding that the intended readers had, we’re just going to miss things. I could probably learn to understand Jonathan Wild in all it’s wonderful tricks, and layers, and hidden meanings. It would take me years, but I could do it.

I could do it, but I don’t want to. It’s bad enough that I’m a procrastinator to start with. With books that I love, I’m too wrapped up in the story to work on my own. With books I don’t love, I just want to get through them and to the end, and so that’s my excuse as well. The dull books don’t wrap up my creative mind the way well written modern novels do, but they give me something to latch on to in their own way.

Books are my addiction, and just like a drug addict, even the bad ones give me what I think I need. I just need to work on my gardening so I can share the homegrown.

I’ve read three historicals (romance) in a row. This isn’t my usual reading pattern, but I’d picked them up at Ollies (I assume remaindered) months ago, and I’m trying to work through my TBR pile. Plus, I’ve been harboring an idea I’ve had for a book set during the Gold rush north, and one of the books is set during the same period/situation.

Of the three books, one I felt was so bad that it was painful to read. The story line and characters felt weak and a little too cardboard. The writing was mediocre at best.

Another, I thought the setting was quite good, and the story was good. However, the pacing was pathetic, staying more or less the same throughout the whole book. Too much information was given to actually drive up the tension, and I just didn’t care about any of the characters. It was set in the court of Catherine de Medici, and the only character I cared about was her daughter who I believe was meant to only facilitate the plot. All of the mains were… well, I couldn’t care less. I was more interested to see if the hero became truly friends with Henry de Guise than if he hooked up with the girl. On top of that, the author used “became aware” “caused her to recollect”, and other such annoying phrases to turn subjects and info-dump.

And the third? Actually not bad. It was a little touch and go in the beginning. One good page followed by a bad one. The bad guy was evil enough to be terrifying, yet had a streak of goodness (or perhaps just gratitude) strong enough to make you wonder if he couldn’t be redeemed. Of course, you know he won’t be since writing a scene like that is so delicate only a pro could truly pull it off- but you sense that it could happen. The characters weren’t developed enough for my taste. My interest mostly lay in the bad guy and a character who is more or less insignificant in this book, but whom I expect will be the love interest in the second. I liked the cover best out of the three, and it makes me wonder if you really can judge a book by its cover.

Still, what the author did well, she did very well. What she didn’t do well, was acceptable. This is the only book that I felt was worth my time reading and the cost of buying it remaindered. However, it was not worth my investing the cash to buy book 2 new.

Now, all three of these authors have quite the career writing, and so I make allowances for time constraints in their writing. Obviously, most working writers have to produce a book in a relatively short period of time to keep their editors happy. I still think the industry would be better served as a whole to allow authors sufficient time to perfect each story.

Yes, people like to buy from authors they’re familiar with and like, but if each book published was as strong as it could be, would the consumer not be more inclined to take a chance on an unknown? I know that my fear in purchasing from a new author is “I’ve read so many dreadful books, do I want to take the chance?”, surely that’s how most reader/buyers feel. If editors didn’t rush their authors to keep pumping out books, and instead used the lull to publish other great writers, surely the market would only be improved by this?

Ok, rant over.

Here’s the common denominator in all three of the books. I just didn’t care about the characters. I didn’t feel that any of them were real (except the princess in book 2, and the bad guy in book 3), and I’m not spending my cash on people I don’t care about. I don’t lend money to my co-workers, and I’m not going to pay you to bore me. I don’t have to like your story, but I do have to like the people in it. And stop using lazy phrases!

Oh, and one more thing. Don’t tell me that someone is funny, friendly, or has a cruel streak. I already saw it in their actions and words, I don’t need a nanny telling me what I already know.