Review: Tempest by Holly Hook

Rating: 4 out of 5

There seems to be a growing trend in young adult fiction where the love story is the main crux of the plot. The main characters do grow in these instances, but their growth is charted by their feelings for the “other” in their lives. The hero or heroine therefore becomes defined by this other and fails to be a viable personality any longer. They turn into puppets on the strings of love and lust, and any real change they experience is nullified because the journey isn’t a personal one. Take the fictional example of Hannah and John. Hannah has no self-esteem. She meets John, who thinks she is a fantastic person. Hannah is now filled with pride and a sense of purpose – not because she has done anything to deserve this newfound confidence, but strictly because John says she should. It’s an artificial way to build character, the easy way out. And as it pertains to real life, it doesn’t last.

Because of this, I feel thankful any time a young adult book slides into my inbox that bucks this trend. Tempest, a wonderful slice of innovative fiction by Holly Hook, more than fits the criteria.

Tempest is the story of Janelle, a sixteen-year-old girl whose mother is long dead and whose father has recently moved them from Michigan to sunny Florida. Janelle is a brooding, generally unhappy youth. She misses her friends back home and suffers from a serious lack of communication between her father and her. She seems angry at the world, but in fact this is simply the result of being firmly tied to her convictions. Her outlook on right and wrong is solid in the usual teenage I-know-the-world-and-my-parents-don’t-see way, and she holds tight to these threads of morality like a barnacle clings to a rock.

At the beginning of the story, when a hurricane is plowing along the Florida coast, Janelle is dumbstruck by the fact her father seems wholly unconcerned. She cries out against him, asking why he should seem so cavalier in the face of impending danger, and yet her father offers her no explanation other than to say, “Trust me.” She is understandably flummoxed. His action (or lack thereof) only adds to her distrust, causing her to dive even further into the net of her own principles.

As the novel moves along, and be warned that there may be some **SPOILERS** here, Janelle comes to find out that she is descended from a long line of Tempests, which are basically human hurricanes. There is a list of names, and whenever a Tempest’s name comes up, it is their duty to jump into the ocean, become a swirling mass of destruction, and assist in the regenerative circle of life and death. In other words, these people are living forces of nature. When Janelle discovers this she is horrified – she cannot deal with the prospect of taking life and causing others hardship. So she does the only thing she can think to do – she runs away.

There is a very linear plot here. It surges forward in a straight line and doesn’t let up. We are introduced to the Tempest culture, which is pretty well thought out and quite original. Janelle meets Gary, a waifish kid of her own age and “special talent” who she naturally falls for. (Thankfully, this aspect of the story comes across naturally and is not a driving force.) We meet up with the Tempest leader, a wholly evil woman named Andrina, who has a plan for Janelle and might be much more to her than originally thought. There are attempts at mind control and unsavory plots unveiled, and everyone involved – Janelle, Gary, her father, and a whole host of other characters – must hurry to put things back in their natural order before Janelle’s time comes up.

This book deals with some very poignant issues, not the least of which is the danger of secrets. Is withholding the truth ever a good idea, especially when said truth would completely change one’s definition of themselves? When is it harmful? Do parents have a duty to their children to be completely forthright in disclosing information about their history? And, on a greater scale, would the world at large be ready and accepting if they were to find out that there’s a “different” group of people out there, folks with much more power than the normal human could ever experience?

There are no simple answers to these questions, and refreshingly, the author doesn’t try to answer them. Instead she puts the reader through scenario after scenario, showing how this lack of disclosure effects the characters at a personal level, and allows the reader to make up their own mind. This lack of pretension is a most welcomed tool for Hook to use, and allows her work to feel that much more accessible.

The other main thread that weaves through the plot is common to the genre – that of finding oneself. Thankfully, the device implied at the beginning of this review is not present here. Janelle grows on her own, makes her own mistakes, stays true to who she is, and grows naturally (or as natural as one who’s a living hurricane ever could.) Even when presented with the dire facts of her existence, she still goes through the proper channels – anger, distrust, sorrow, and finally acceptance. And it is with this acceptance that she truly shows her mettle, for Janelle is the only true hero in the entire story, the only individual that cherishes all life, even those that may wish to harm her. The others…not so much. The story goes to some surprisingly dark places and makes some very interesting observations about the human existence. One of the questions posed is one for the ages – is the life of one worth more than the life of many? There are righteous answers to both sides, and we see both here in full force.

With all these good things that went on this book, I still have one major complaint. Andrina, the big baddie in the tale, isn’t a well fleshed-out character. There were some attempts made at making her seem like a well-rounded creation, but they fell flat. She talks like a Scooby-Doo bad guy and comes across as more clownish than frightening. If the author had extended the book just a little bit, allowed us to see Andrina in a more vulnerable state, then perhaps this might be different. But as constructed, she’s a one-note character, and simply not up to the standards set by Janelle and her father.

Also, the writing is a bit off at times. The book is written in third person, but told from exclusively Janelle’s viewpoint. We’re so immersed in her that at times the story felt like it was being told in first, which threw me out of rhythm a bit. To my mind, it would have worked much better to either go the first-person route or by limiting the amount of character invasion into the text to italicized sections. Something that can definitely be fixed later on.

And here’s where we get to the crux of the review. Later on. I say that not as if this book needs extensive editing – it so does not – but because I’d like to see this go on as a series. I’d love to see the author grow along with her characters, as she takes them on new adventures and throws new obstacles in their way. With the brilliant mythology Holly Hook invented, there is no limit to the storylines she could incorporate. Now, I’m not sure if this is going to be a series or not, mind you. But it should be.

In all, Tempest is a wonderfully brisk read full of angst and self-discovery. Most of the characters ring true and are decently realized. The innovations are fresh and invigorating. I would most certainly recommend this book to anyone, or to anyone’s teenagers. It’s a good start, and by the end we’re left with

the feeling that things are just going to get better from here.

Plot - 9

Characters - 7

Voice - 7

Execution - 8

Personal Enjoyment – 9

Overall – 40/50 (4.0/5)

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Review: The Gods of Dream by Daniel Arenson

Rating: 4.8 out of 5

All my life I’ve held the opinion that fairy tales come to us from the darkest depths of imagination. They are stories of suffering and grief wrapped up in a bundle of cutesy imagery, mythical beasts, and social disorder. They come as warnings: Little Red Riding Hood and Hansel and Gretel against the allure and dangers of child predators, Jack and the Bean Stock against the perils of experimentation and exploration without first understanding the consequences…and these are only a few examples. They are at their core disturbing, grim tales, meant to pass along a necessary social message.

This is what The Gods of Dream, written by Daniel Arenson, accomplishes. In spades.

The Gods of Dream is the tale of Cade and Tasha, twins from a never-disclosed, war-torn country, whose parents were killed during a bombing at a local market. They are forced to leave their home and travel to a new country, where they are alone, afraid, and despondent. Tasha hates life and has tried multiple times to end it. Cade does his best to support and coddle her, his own war-ravaged hands constant reminders of the past they left behind. He does everything he can to give his beloved twin a reason to live.

Well, they have one. For reasons never fully explained (and thankfully so), Cade and Tasha have been granted access to Eloria, the true land of Dream. In this reality they are Talon and Sunflower, children of the illusory wilderness, unscarred (both physically and emotionally) by their guilt, sorrow, and the horrors of their past. When in Dream they cavort like the free youths they should have been, before the real world cruelly tore all that away from them.

This carefree existence is not to last long, however, for it seems that Phobetor, the ruler of Nightmare, obviously the counterpoint to Dream, has set his sights on conquering the sleeping paradise. Cade is recruited into the fight, told he must defeat the evil prince, and heads out on a long, long quest. Tasha, for some reason left out of the original plan (actually there is a reason, though it’s never spoken, and that reason is sublime and necessary), sneaks in and joins her beloved brother on his journey, disguised as a mouse.

Along the way Cade and Tasha meet all sorts of strange and wonderful creatures. They are the gods of Dream, and they’re fantastic creations with roots firmly planted in Native American (or any other naturalistic culture’s) lore. Each resides in (and is master of) a certain location and aspect of Dream. These gods have lived for thousands of years, and they take it upon themselves to assist Cade and Tasha in whatever way they can.

The twins journey for weeks (possibly months) through the landscape of Dream and enter Nightmare. I could go on and on describing every step of their journey, but I won’t. This review would be ten pages long if I did that. Just believe that there are a great many plot points in the book that are worth mentioning, but what interests me more than anything are themes, and that’s what I’m here to discuss right now.

One of the first things I noticed when the chapters started shifting between events happening in Dream and Nightmare, respectively, was the paradigm of these realms. Just as Dream’s gods are constructs of the “real world” – elks, cats, lions, hippos, pandas, etc – so is the landscape. It is filled with earthly trees, grass, rivers, and gardens of flowers. There is a day and night. There are oceans and beluga whales. There is also a natural order to the land, represented in pockets that depict the seasons of Earth. The lands of Nightmare, on the other hand, are cracked and burnt in some places; in others, the ground is covered with what could be skin. The trees there are likewise fleshy, covered with eyeballs. The creatures that inhabit it are gruesome, beasts of fangs, spikes, hooks, fur, and bodies that don’t seem to follow a natural order (aka shark head on a wolf’s body, etc). These unsavory citizens carry themselves with utter hatred and intend to harm, and every emotion is taken to the extreme. To break it down, Dream is the land of balance and healthy imagination; Nightmare of radicalism and brooding darkness. Sure, at first glance one might say, “But doesn’t the existence of Nightmare balance out Dream?” And the answer to that would be no. Some of Nightmare’s inhabitants were born in Dream, and they were born the way they are – wicked, cursed, unsavory – and at least one was told he did not have to leave despite this. That, in and of itself, demonstrates that the world of Dream is evenhanded. Because of this, Nightmare is actually a weight that tips the scales toward darkness.

(Not to mention that Dream exists seemingly of its own accord, while Nightmare needs a motor. It’s powered by a subway system that runs beneath its soil. I won’t explain what this subway system is or how it operates, because I wouldn’t want to give that away, but trust me when I say it’s one of the most inspired and original ideas I’ve ever set my eyes upon.)

The creative inventions of the world aside, the emotional threads are spectacularly done as well, in fact more so. Cade and Tasha really feel like damaged souls. They’re full of doubt and guilt. Tasha is nearly pathetic in her unhappiness, and you pity Cade for how hard he tries, even while he’s doubting his every action. In every way it makes sense that these two were the ones chosen to save Dream, because they needed to be saved just as much. They needed to rediscover beauty even in the face of ugliness and evil. And I think that might be the main point: that there is splendor all around you, that if only you’d take the time to actually deal with the hardships that come upon you, you’d bust out on the other side realizing all you’ve had and all you could have. Tasha, herself, embodies this. She is small in soul and scope at the start of the novel. In this way, it’s no wonder that she chooses to be a mouse when she crosses into Dream. For she is afraid of everything, her fear and sorrow have made her as insignificant as a creature that makes its home in shredded bits of discarded paper. In this case, that discarded paper is her life, both former and present.

All of this is sad yet beautiful to read, and I have to admit that on more than one occasion I found myself getting teary – especially at the beginning and end of the book. The middle is where the action is, and it is wonderful, but let me tell you…the emotions that run through these opening and closing segments are just about perfect. We see Tasha staring at her bandaged, scarred wrists, and we sob for her, when it would be very easy, if the work wasn’t crafted as well as it is, to say, “Just get it over with, already.” The writing helps in this regard, with flowing sentences and vivid description. Really, I can’t say enough good things about it.

So why, one might ask, did it not receive a perfect score? (Yeah, I have to be a little bit critical.) Two reasons. First of all, author Arenson has a habit of repeating things, important points that need to be remembered (such as the reminders that Cade and Tasha have to save Dream…or else.) Now, I get that, but I thought it was done just a tad too much. I understand that this is the author’s style, however, and it really doesn’t distract from the story. The second is the character of Phobetor, the ruler of Nightmare. His repartee his demon wife is eerily similar to the interplay between a pair of characters in another one of Arenson’s books. Now, I almost didn’t mention this, but I felt the need to, if only to assure readers who’ve read the author’s other works that these sections are short and few. In fact, there are only two scenes that actually have both characters in them. However, they’re both towards the beginning of the book, and I want to tell any who might notice that the characters are, in fact, quite different, as the meat of the tale bears out and their interactions cease. I wouldn’t want anyone to put the book down because of something minor such as this.

On a whole, The Gods of Dream is a very impressive, nearly impeccable work of art. It’s The Neverending Story meets The Dark Crystal meets The Odyssey. It surges in parts, lingers in others, and always leaves the reader with the impression that they’re taking in something important. It teaches a lesson about pain and what it takes to withstand it. It shows how important life is, how important love is, how important family is, be them blood or otherwise. It takes you on its journey of imagination and leaves you both panting and sighing at the fantastically bittersweet, yet hopeful, ending.

In other words, it’s magnificent. And I have a sneaking suspicion The Gods of Dream is going to end up being one of the best books I read in 2011. It gets the highest recommendation from me that a single book could possibly ever get.

Plot - 10

Characters - 9

Voice - 10

Execution - 9

Personal Enjoyment – 10

Overall – 48/50 (4.8/5)

Purchase The Gods of Dream in ebook format for the:

JOA Book Of The Day

THE GODS OF DREAM
by Daniel Arenson

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What are dreams? Some think they are figments of our mind. But what if they were wisps of a distant, magical world… a world you could visit?

Twins Cade and Tasha discover Dream, the land dreams come from. It is a realm of misty forests, of verdant mountains, of mysterious gods who send dreams into our sleep. Cade and Tasha seek solace there; they are refugees, scarred and haunted with memories of war. In Dream, they can forget their past, escape the world, and find joy.

Phobetor, the god of Nightmare, was outcast from Dream. Now he seeks to destroy it. He sends his monsters into Dream, and Cade and Tasha find their sanctuary threatened, dying. To save it, the twins must overcome their past, journey into the heart of Nightmare, and face Phobetor himself.

Discover a world of light and darkness, of hope and fear, of dreams and nightmares. Discover The Gods of Dream.

Purchase The Gods of Dream in ebook format at Amazon.com.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Daniel Arenson in an author of fantasy fiction, from epic to dark and surreal. He's written dozens of stories and poems, and is the author of fantasy novels Firefly Island (2007) and Flaming Dove (2010), and aforementioned Gods of Dream. Visit Daniel's website at DanielArenson.com.

NOTE FROM THE JOURNAL:

This book is currently in my TBR pile, and I'm actually quite excited to get to it. As a reviewer who adores Daniel's work, I would recommend this novel to anyone, sight unseen. Be sure to check back in a couple weeks when my review of The Gods of Dream is posted.

Review: The Gift of Fury by Richard Jackson

Rating: 3.3 out of 5

Every once in a while, I run across a book that I can’t help but think, “If there had been just this much more work put into it (or perhaps a little more), it could have been special.”

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you The Gift of Fury by Richard Jackson.

The setup of the book is as follows – Count Albritton (that’s his name, not his title…weird, I know, but it works) is a paranormal investigator working out of New York City. He and his friends (a pair of wizards, a vampire of some sort, and an immortal warrior) run up against a man named Jack Meredith, a wealthy entrepreneur who desires more than simply predicting how to work the stock market in his favor.

It seems that Mr. Meredith has gone to great lengths to awaken the Seven, a powerful group of beings harkening from the “Old Days” of magic. And it turns out that our beloved Count, who holds a special relationship with a magical ring called the Bloodstone, is the only one who can stop him.

I so, so wanted to love this book. The author has a fantastic voice, telling the tale from Count’s viewpoint. He goes in-depth about the workings of the magical world that exists just beneath our own “real” world, explaining things such as the Witching Hour, different types of vampires, and the differentiations of various forms of magical practices. It was honestly quite entertaining to read. Jackson paints a vision of New York that is mysterious as well as mundane, and he takes some well-known (and not so well-known) locations and makes them shine anew. Great job there.

The characters who surround the fabulously sarcastic Count, also have their own distinct voices. Highest on this list is Hagan, the eternal warrior. He’s gruff and strangely carefree, the type of braggart that can’t wait to let everyone around him know of his exploits, whether he should or not. Also intriguing was Scott Dorward, one of the two sorcerers Count associates with. He is wonderfully quirky and straightforward. The few scenes he appears in are some of the best in the whole book.

As for the plot…it’s simple but it works. When it all gets boiled down, this is an adventure story. Its aim is to present a new world and entertain you. The only real theme I could find would be find yourself, young man, as Count doesn’t understand the power he possesses and must constantly work to harness. As I said, it’s simple but enjoyable.

And then we have the problems, which are many. I usually don’t make a huge deal of the editing in books – a few typos don’t bother me – but this one is rife with so many errors it became distracting. Also, it is told in first-person present tense – which is a difficult style to pull off effectively – and even the flashbacks are presented in this way. It completely interrupts the flow of the story. Every time this happened, I had to scroll back to see if what I was reading happened now or then. Change the tense, man!

On the subject of those flashbacks, there were at least two too many. We could’ve done without discovering how Count found the Bloodstone or first met Hagan. These facts could have easily been disclosed organically through conversation or informative snippets, without exposition.

These aspects of the novel came close to ruining it for me. Close, but not quite. I still had a good time with it, and I thought the world author Jackson created seemed fresh and new. It’s too bad there are so many irritants, because were those facets not there, this could’ve been something special.

As presently constructed, it’s a fun rough draft, not a final product.

Which is a shame.

Plot - 7

Characters - 9

Voice - 8

Execution - 3

Personal Enjoyment – 6

Overall – 33/50 (3.3/5)

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Review - Erich's Plea by Tracey Alley

Rating: 2.2 out of 5

Reviewing can be a frustrating game.

You dive into a book. You want to love it. You get to know the author, and they’re a super-nice person. And yet sometimes the reading experience lags behind your expectations. You don’t want to be mean, but you owe it to everyone – yourself, your readers, hell even the writer themselves – to be honest.

That’s where I found myself with Erich’s Plea by Tracey Alley.

In its premise, the book is hopeful. Slade, the son of a king, has abdicated his rights to the throne in order to become a druid. He is eventually thrown in prison for nefarious reasons. He dreams of his father, who’s been captured (or killed), and is left instructions on how he should go about plotting his escape. He eventually does, with the help of the typical rogue’s galley of fantasy characters. And in the background of all this, there is the intrigue of a plot to take over the world by a singular dark entity with seemingly unlimited power.

There were a few problems I ran into with the story. First of all, for a main character, Slade is, honestly, not very interesting. He has no charisma, no charm. It’s almost as if he’s simply there. Secondly, the majority of the plot revolves around the big prison escape, which like Slade isn’t very exciting. The reading is quick, but the action scenes are lacking. The head-hopping between characters can be confusing, and the characters themselves are oftentimes clichéd. There reached a point where I wanted to say, “all right, get out of the prison already!” It drags on through the length of the novel, and I begged this particular storyline to end.

This is where I come to the most frustrating aspect of all in this book. Whereas the main story arc, the prison break, is mundane and tiresome, the peripheral occurrences show so much promise, so much thought. The main protagonist in these (too short) sections is Lord Michael Strong. He, along with the grand wizard (or necromancer – I couldn’t figure out which exactly) Lord Nexus are having clandestine meetings to figure out ways in which they can reunite the different kingdoms that always seem to be at odds with each other, under the poisonous eyes of The Dark One, the seemingly all-powerful evil presence.

Through their conversations, Lords Michael and Nexus reveal the history of the world author Alley has built, and it is wonderful. It is a mirror to our own, in which the xenophobia and racism that exists between the warring factions brings down what had the potential to be an almost utopian society. I greatly appreciated these aspects of the book, along with the descriptions of the different types of magic. I found these threads to be original and inventive, and well worth expanding upon.

However, the author doesn’t, and instead we’re thrust back into the boring escape plan.

There’s something else amiss with the work, however, and this has everything to do with The Dark One, himself. He’s painted as an omnipresent figure, one who knows everything that happens around him, who is tyrannical in his rule. And yet we meet him, face-to-face (first mistake), and he’s more like a caricature than a well-fleshed-out villain. Also, for someone so all-powerful, he’s surrounded by spies (second mistake). This lessens his effectiveness and turns the character into a joke. How could such a dominant being with the power of mind-reading and witchcraft at his disposal not know all these characters in his tight inner circle are plotting against him? It simply doesn’t make sense and, although this is strange to say about a work of fantasy, makes the story much less believable.

The writing style the author uses is brisk, but there is something off about it, as well. The comma usage is all over the place. Many of the sentences are run-ons. There is information that is contradictory or unnecessary to the action. Here are a couple prime examples:

As it always did, on those rare occasions that Luca came to this section of the prison, he found the utter silence unnerving, although, at least it masked the screams of the prisoners.

They could all do with some better supplies Slade knew, apart from Lara, Tares and Darzan, who appeared fully equipped, the rest of them carried only arms and equipment purloined from the dead guards.

(Perhaps these represent differences between Australian and American English...I'm not entirely sure)

Not only this, but the author has a tendency to repeat names over and over and over again when a simple “he” or “she” would suffice. This is distracting and more than a little bit maddening, as well.

And yet, all this aside, I would probably read another of Alley’s work if given the opportunity. She does have a playfulness to her tone that I find intriguing. Some of her characters are inventive and break their tropes. She has a good head for societal themes and world-building. It’s simply not present in this book as much as it should be.

I know there are more novels the series. Perhaps she has matured as a writer since this one was written, perhaps not. But if it doesn’t improve, that would be it for me.

As for Erich’s Plea…I found it middling, at best.

Plot - 3

Characters - 5

Voice - 5

Execution - 4

Personal Enjoyment – 5

Overall – 22/50 (2.2/5)

Available at Amazon.com:

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Review: Pale Boundaries by Scott Cleveland

Rating: 4.8 out of 5

Diving into an excellent work of science fiction can be like swimming through a sea of red tape; it’s muddled, sometimes it can tie you down and be more than a little confusing, and yet, once you put everything together, you finally know the answer and the effort it took to get through becomes worth it.

This was my experience reading “Pale Boundaries” by Scott Cleveland.

In truth, this is the first science fiction novel I’ve read since my high-school love of the Cyberpunk micro-genre. At times I found it difficult to keep everything in order – the technical terms tripped me up occasionally and I found myself backtracking constantly, trying to stay the course and understand all that was going on – and because of this, a book whose length I can usually complete in four days took me a little over a week. Now this is not a complaint, mind you; in fact, the act of staying with a book longer than usual struck me as a cathartic experience. By the time I reached the end, I thought I had a pretty good understanding of the mind that created the work.

“Pale Boundaries” is the story of Terson Reilly, a young pilot existing on a backwater planet called Algran Asta. The story follows his adventures – from his arrest on his home planet for smuggling Militia weapons, to his relocation to a gorgeous, sun-splashed world named Nivea, where pregnancy laws and environmental controls are draconian, at best. Along the way he works through the guilt of watching his friend back home die a gruesome death, finds love (with a refreshingly strong and intractable woman named Virene), begins a relationship with his probation officer, Malaan Bragg, a noble man whose ignorance of his own society’s corruption will lead him down a rather depressing path, and encounters conflict when he and Virene try and rescue the pilots of a downed shuttle, only to discover that not everything within Nivean society is exactly what it seems.

Terson, himself, is a wonderful character. He is young and brash, following a common trope among science fiction heroes, and yet he is imminently faulted and damaged. He’s prone to violent outbursts, wears his guilt like a designer suit, and is untrusting. His is a grand journey of self-discovery, awakening, loss, self-destruction, and revenge. The many scenes between he and Virene are beautifully portrayed, looping together their naiveté with their not-so-innocent animal passions for each other, bring about a sense of reality and crunchiness to the characters. If we’ve been lucky, we know the lust and dedication for each other they feel…and quite honestly, this is the sort of pragmatic relationship I’ve found lacking in many novels I’ve read recently.

Another character I found fascinating is Halsor Tennison (Hal for short), the facto leader of The Family, a criminal organization that operates out of Nivia’s other large continent. The Family is, as we find out, the real reason behind Nivea’s strict ruling guidelines, which all come about as a way to keep their pockets overflowing through illegal shipping of technology and goods and help to hold down a society of people who also inhabit the Beta Continent – an Asian/Japanese-like culture called the Minzoku. Hal and The Family are constantly at odds with the rulers of these other peoples. He is without a doubt the villain of the piece, and yet his character is fleshed out with as much caring and intensity as Terson’s. In fact, more often than not, you can’t tell he’s the baddie, at all. When he falls in love with the niece of the Minzoku ruler, Dayuki, we admire and root for their relationship as much as we root for Terson and Virene. In fact, it can be said that Hal and Terson are meant to be played against each other in a literary sense; they are mirror images of each other, each possessing strengths and faults that the other doesn’t, which suggests that, had their circumstances been reversed, they might have become each other.

The plot of this book is convoluted in the best of ways. It’s rife with deception and backward dealing, and none of the characters are privy to what the others are doing, which makes for an intriguing read. It also has emotional threads that are surprisingly strong. When Terson suffers the greatest loss of his life, my heart dropped along with his. I saw him give up, and said, “I’m right there with you, brother. I’d have done the same thing.” There is also an exploration of power and culture that makes this much more than a technological thriller. Author Cleveland disperses throughout the text little clues as to why humans have traversed space at all, why Earth is no longer their home, and it made perfect sense. The author has an insight into human behavior that allows him to create this fantastic world and make it, in every way, believable.

In this regard (and many others), this is a great book. I’ve said many times that genre fiction allows us to ingest real and potent problems under the guise of something strange and otherworldly, and Pale Boundaries accomplishes this in spades. From presenting the idea of environmental protection and its drawbacks when the fanaticism involved outlives its practicality to the dangers (both for the suppressed and the suppressors) of xenophobia, it yanks you into the world it’s created and forces you to think about your own world. The examination of mob culture and how much sway they have on our everyday lives is also an interesting thread. All one has to do is look at the history of their own country (no matter where in the world they live) and wonder how much of their society’s success and failure has been the result of the suppression and hegemony of some clandestine group. After all, conspiracy theories don’t exist in a vacuum.

In all, I loved this book. Along with being a fantastic read, it is also the most well refined self-published novel I’ve ever read. The structure is near perfect, and there are scant errors or typos, which is rare in this new world of publishing. Actually, when I look back on it, I don’t understand why this book wasn’t picked up by a publishing house. With a near-flawless construction and a potent (and concise) storyline, I would figure it would attract the attention of at least someone in the industry. I emailed the author to see if he’d ever sent the book out to agents or publishers, and he replied that yes, he had many times without a single bite. This strikes me as both odd and disheartening. If a work as brilliant as this can slip through the cracks, it doesn’t gather much confidence in the decision makers who put out books for the mainstream to read.

(As a side note, though, I feel I must mention the one problem I did have with the book. Although it is well-constructed and near perfect, I reached the end realizing that very few of the plot threads had been resolved, and there is another book due out in 2012 that will continue Terson Reilly’s adventures. This, I feel, should have been known from the start. Unfortunately, it could turn off readers, and this is something that I would find a very, very large disappointment. So please, Mister Cleveland, tell us it’s the first book in a series from the getgo. For this, I dock you (gasp!) one point in execution.)

So go out and purchase this book. It’s a dense read, but well worth it. And perhaps you’ll come out on the other side the same way I did; mystified, impressed, and feeling more than a little enlightened.

Plot - 9

Characters - 10

Voice - 10

Execution - 9

Personal Enjoyment – 10

Overall – 48/50 (4.8/5)

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Review: A Galaxy At War by John Fitch V

Rating: 4 out of 5

Have you ever read a novel and gone through about a hundred different opinions of it before you finished? Have you ever started out disliking something, grew to appreciate it, then loathe it, have it grow on you once more, become ready to throw it away, and finally put it down, wait a few days, and then say, “I’m not sure what I read, but it just might be brilliant?”

This, in a nutshell, was my experience reading “A Galaxy At War” by John Fitch V.

“A Galaxy At War” is the story of Ryann Germayne, a pilot for the GFS (Galaxy of Free Systems). It seems that the GFS rules its universe with a sort of aluminum fist. It makes demands on the planets under its control and will not let them govern themselves, and yet though most of the book they seem a bit weak and pathetic for what is portrayed as a powerful political entity.

Long story short, the Rebels are fighting back against the cruel rule of the GFS, and Ryann and his wife, Joslyne, who is the gunner on their ship, The Tub, traverse space, trying to hold back the Rebels any way they can.

At first, I thought this book was a parody. There are so many clichés throughout the first third of it. You have the witty banter between Ryann and Joslyne (“hotshot” and “flyboy”?), a robot assistant who can speak hundreds of languages, and political intrigue that really isn’t that intriguing. Add to this the humor that comes from the overuse of the term “photonics” (why is it red and green and what does that mean?) and the fact that everyone’s favorite drink is “stimu-tonic” (what, coffee’s not good enough in space?) and you have the perfect ingredients for satire.

However, after a while, those elements disappear and the tone becomes muddled. Allegiances flip-flop for seemingly no reason at all. There are severely over-explained plans that are far from complex and yet presented as such. During this time, I seriously considered putting down the book.

Come the end, I was glad I didn’t.

Something strange happened along the way while I was rolling my eyes at the text. All of a sudden the tone became dark and serious, and the writing reflected as such. The characters’ previous actions began to make sense. It all came upon me quickly, as if I hadn’t been paying attention the whole time and it only just then popped into my brain and screamed at me to look closer. It became more than a space opera, turning into something meaningful, something that would make the 9/11 conspiracy theorists proud.

So I didn’t write my review immediately afterwards and sat on the book for a few days. In that time, it’s gained greater notoriety in my head. The themes make sense, and the humor does, too. I think I finally understand what Mr. Fitch was trying to accomplish with it, and in the opinion of this reviewer he pulled it off.

In other words, try out A Galaxy At War. By the time you’re done, I think you’ll have enjoyed it…though it might take a while to figure out why you did.

Check out the book's Amazon page here

Plot - 9

Characters - 7

Voice - 8

Execution - 8

Personal Enjoyment - 8

Overall - 40/50 (4.0/5)