JESS, RISING by DM Guay Review

Rating: 5 out of 5

About four months ago, I picked up this little book on a whim, a friend having suggested it, and figured that it’d be a good backup just in case I ran out of material to read and I was away from my precious WiFi hub. It was a young adult fantasy novel, after all, which I’m always game for, so long as it’s decently written. Other than that, I really gave the book no thought. Hell, I never even read the description before buying it.

And then, I forgot all about it.

Then the day came a couple weeks ago where I found myself at work, having just finished a fantasy novel by Michael Wallace that ended on a cliffhanger and salivating to read more. I’d told myself at the time that I’d get the second book in that series as soon as I got home, but until then, since it was still my morning break and there’s no way I could even consider going the rest of the day without reading something, I needed to scour my Kindle library. And there it was, “Jess, Rising”, sitting front-and-center as the only unread material on my device. So I opened the book and dove in, not remembering when I’d gotten it and with no expectations at all as to what might be inside.

By the time I finished my lunch break, I was kicking myself for not starting it sooner.

Wow. Just… wow. This little unassuming book should’ve been anything but. It’s a typical story for the genre—a teen girl in a new town that has a dark past who gradually realizes she has untold of abilities and a greater destiny—but that rote description hides so much narrative depth, so much emotion and personal exploration, that it’s like a sneak attack, creeping up at you when you least expect it and shoving a thick, meaty fist right into your gut.

Not since Wizard and Glass by King and The Cost of Betrayal by Dalglish have I read a work of fiction that so accurately and succinctly depicts what it’s like to lose a loved one, that so perfectly illustrates the empty space where that person used to be and the questions of what life should mean now that they’re gone. And that’s just the starting point in this little gem! DM Guay does just as fantastic of a job of carrying the reader through the healing process, and all the bumps and heartache and doubt that implies. Just as with the best works of fantasy, the supernatural is used as a proxy for real-life pain and torment, as well as a way to bring about an emotional climax that makes sense and allows the story to continue onward without lingering for an extended period on misery; because, let’s face it, if we linger on loss, we stagnate and die too, in certain regards.

That’s not to say this book is nothing but pain and healing. Oh, it’s totally fun and exciting too. Popular tropes are played with, shifted, perverted, with some playing up to expectations and most completely skirting norms and coming out on the other side as something completely different. We get to know Jess, our protagonist, intimately, with all her faults and hang-ups and desires, and through that tight point of view we’re just as much in the dark as she is. In fact, Guay does such a fantastic job of hiding the truth in plain sight that I was legitimately shocked by what happens at the end. She’d turned the tables on me, someone who usually can guess an outcome pretty easily, and did so in a way that was obvious in retrospect. So, so fantastic. I really wish that I could go into more depth here, but doing so would be plenty SPOILERY, and part of the joy in “Jess, Rising” is in the not knowing, so you’re gonna have to take it at that.

This is a novel that has everything I’d ever want in a work of fiction. Super powers? Check. Emotional weight? Check. Young love fraught with angst? Check. Unexpected, graphic violence? Check. An unexpected ending? Super-check. I loved every freaking minute of the experience, so much so that I grabbed the second and third books when I was only halfway through the first. And I plan on spending all of my reading time for the next couple weeks fully immersed in DM Guay’s world, with Jess and her friends, until there’s no more story to tell.

Honestly, I think you should too.

Buy “JESS,RISING” on Amazon now.

JOA Book of the Day

JENNY POX
by J.L. Bryan

-------------------------------------------------------------

Jenny has a secret. Her touch spreads a deadly supernatural plague. And she can't turn it off.
She devotes her life to avoiding contact with people, until her senior year of high school, when she meets the one boy she can touch, and falls in love.

But there's a problem--he's under the spell of his devious girlfriend Ashleigh, who secretly wields the most dangerous power of all.

Now Jenny must learn to use the "Jenny pox" she's fought to suppress, or be destroyed by Ashleigh's ruthless plans.

***

The sequel to Jenny Pox will be available by summer 2011.

Winner of a Red Adept Indie Award: #1 in Horror for 2010.

Selected by Geeks of Doom for Top 10 Urban Fantasy and Horror Books of 2010

If you enjoy Jenny Pox, you might enjoy books by Stacey Wallace Benefiel and Amanda Hocking.

Purchase Jenny Pox in ebook format at Amazon or Barnes and Noble

REVIEW SNIPPETS

This is one of the best novels of the year I’ve read so far, and I absolutely enjoyed every minute of it. The ending has a satisfying resolution, and I think that Bryan is one of the most talented writers I’ve had the privilege to read. - Hellnotes.com

This book has it all: teenage angst, sex, drugs, hiding an evil agenda disguised as a religious quest, evil cheerleaders. - Bewitched Bookworms

This story is intensely emotional, brilliantly told, and absolutely worth reading. - Supernatural Snark

NOTE FROM THE JOURNAL

This is a book that's been on my "wish I could read if I had the time (or if the author submitted to me)" list for a long time now. I'm a sucker for horror and Buffy-esque stories, and everything I've heard about this book is that it's very close to emotionally perfect. Friends whose opinions I trust have told me it's one of the best, if not the best, book of the recently departed 2010. So to say that I'll eventually be getting around to reading it would be a severe understatement. It should be on your list, too.

Review: The Stasis: Powerless Book 3 by Jason Letts

Rating: 4.6 out of 5

Growing up. It’s hard. It sucks. Our heroes are revealed to be mortal and flawed, our presumptions about the world are constantly proven untrue, and the evils that surround us, which we’ve been gleefully naïve of in our younger days, slowly trickle into our consciousness, threatening to crush our spirit. Often, when I look back on this myself, I wonder how I was able to keep a positive outlook on life. But the thing is, that positive outlook was learned. It came from realizing that I didn’t really want to dwell on the bad, that I wanted to appreciate what I had, the people who loved me, while they’re still here.

That, in a nutshell, describes the atmosphere of The Stasis, the third of the Powerless series by Jason Letts.

As with book two, the story picks up where the previous volume left off, with Mira, the powerless girl in a world where everyone else has superpowers, leading her fellow students from Dustfalls Academy into the war after her failure to win the Rite at Shadow Mountain.

In book two, Mira learns her rather sordid history (which I will not disclose here for fear of a major spoiler for those who haven’t read it), and in The Stasis her emotional deconstructions is complete. Whereas she was once full of wonder and innocence, she now carries herself with a coldly logical hardness that is difficult to see from a character that’d once been so glowing. But it makes sense; her definition of self has been stripped away, leaving behind a skeleton of her former life that she’s ill equipped to reconstruct. So she does what people do when they’ve been abandoned by hope – she latches onto an ideal (to free her sister from the clutches of the army her people are fighting against) and pushes tirelessly and fearlessly for that goal, all else be damned.

Along the way she alienates her friends, becomes involved in a great many battles, and gets wounded (physically as well as emotionally). From there, the meat of the story deals with Mira trying to rediscover the love and purity she’s lost.

This is a very dark book, especially for something in the young adult genre. Quite a few characters are killed off (thousands, actually, if you count all the soldiers fighting in the war), and those that do survive are stricken with such difficult circumstances that their guilt threatens to overcome them. You have to remember that these are sixteen-year-old kids the author has written about here, and they’ve been asked to risk their lives for what amounts to opposing principles they haven’t the maturity to grasp. The senior officers of the army treat them like fodder and are willing to sacrifice them at a moment’s notice to simply prove a point, which brings to mind some very real circumstances that have occurred in our own military during the last ten years or so.

And yet these kids do fight, they do push themselves to the limit, and that aspect of the storyline owes itself to simple survival. When the chips are down and you don’t understand what everyone’s fighting for in the first place, it’s your own life and the lives or your friends that end up mattering more than anything. I couldn’t help but think of World War II and the stories my grandfather has told me of the young people in his platoon stepping up when their superiors went down and all seemed lost. Like the characters in The Stasis, my grandfather fought to keep his friends alive. In that way, this book acts as homage to the stories of these wars past and the grand sacrifices much-too-young individuals had to make during battle, when death surrounded and threatened to swallow them whether or not they stayed on their toes.

Speaking of battle scenes, The Stasis has a few of them, and they’re all pretty grand in scale. They’re confusing to read, what with so many different people having so many different powers that affect their surroundings in so many different ways. This could be looked at as a drawback, but I ended up appreciating the execution. When I found myself being confounded by what was going on, I put myself in the characters’ shoes; if it was difficult for me, the reader, to follow, how must it be for those involved? Reading them actually made me tense, which in books usually only happens during overly emotional scenes.

With all of this violence and the overarching spiral into different facets of the social unrest that started this war, it would’ve been easy for poignant characterization to fall by the wayside. However, the opposite happens. Even with the confusing mess of fighting, the characters actually come more alive, gain more depth, prove more of their usefulness as metaphorical vehicles. Each individual grows and demonstrates just how pure of heart and mind they are, even those that make irrevocably bad decisions. I applaud Letts for this, because he definitely didn’t take the easy way out.

I had very few problems with this book. At times I found the dialogue stilted and robotic, and still the head-hopping persists, but I’ve come to simply accept these as a part of the series’ voice. I’ll no longer dock points for it, considering that if you’re here reading this review it most likely means you’ve already read the first two books. It’s still a wonderful and emotional read, one that I’m growing to appreciate more and more with each installment.

Before I end this review, there’s one last thing I want to mention. With all the death, destruction, and ominous foreboding in this book, there is one particular scene towards the end that jumps out. Letts does something I didn’t expect – he takes these characters that he’s lead through the ringer and allows them to once more rediscover their youthful innocence, if only for a fleeting few moments. I was taken aback and made to feel rather morose. Again I thought of my grandfather, eighteen years old and trapped behind enemy lines. Did he take the time to engage in a games and laughter in the down times, those moments when the fear of imminent death took a much-needed breather? If so, did it help steel him against what was surely to come next? It seems like such a depressing state to find oneself in, and yet I couldn’t shake how real it felt. If nothing else, Letts has a handle on the emotive core of human nature.

The Stasis is a powerful work. It dares to question everything from what constitutes family and the nature of morality. It brings you into the depths of despair and then pulls you out, only to shove you back in once more. It’s a fantastic book, for all ages, and one that I’m not shy at all about giving a heartfelt recommendation to. The best of the series so far, which says a lot. By the end, you’ll think of one line Mira states at the beginning of the novel – The only inevitable truth is death – and hope that the characters will come to realize that despite the nugget of truth of that statement, there are many inevitable truths.

Death is only one of them.

Plot - 9

Characters - 9

Voice - 9

Execution - 9

Personal Enjoyment – 10

Overall – 46/50 (4.6/5)

Available in ebook format for the:

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)

Purchase The Gift of Fury for the Amazon Kindle

Review: Hollowland by Amanda Hocking

Rating: 4.8 out of 5

I love horror. In the past, I would read nothing but. It encapsulated my every reading and viewing experience for years. There was just something about how much these works, when done well, could be so emotionally and intellectually viable, that made them so appealing.

In this regard, I’ve only had one complaint – the dearth of female contributors to the genre. Truth be told, I adore the feminine perspective, but their presence has been lacking. Sure, we have Anne Rice, but she hasn’t written anything that’s appealed to me since Memnoch the Devil. And then we have Stephanie Meyer…but to put her works of paranormal teenage lust under the horror umbrella is severely misguided. And that’s about it.

But then recently I discovered Amanda Hocking, and I think I’m in love.

Now, most of Hocking’s books definitely fall into the paranormal romance/young adult category, which doesn’t necessarily interest me. However, I received her newest novel, Hollowland, as a review copy, and I have to tell you…this is horror done just about perfectly.

Hollowland is the story of Remy, a nineteen-year-old survivor of the zombie apocalypse. The novel throws you right into the action; at the beginning, the quarantine she is living in (somewhere in the Nevada desert) falls under attack by the hungry undead. She escapes, along with a thirteen-year-old girl named Harlow. Remy’s younger brother Max, who also lived there, had been evacuated when the invasion began. Remy, as his only surviving family member, takes it upon herself to find him once more.

Just as with most apocalyptic novels, this one is a journey. Remy and Harlow head north, in search of Max. Along the way they meet up with Blue, a not-quite-doctor, and Lazlo, a young man who’d been in one of those pop-punk bands (think Blink-182) before the world they all knew collapsed into man-eating madness. Remy also, in one of the quirkier aspects of the book, discovers a lioness hooked up to a trailer. Remy saves the lion and it becomes another travel companion – one that is, since animals are immune to the virus that has destroyed modern civilization, indispensible when it comes to helping her small pride survive the various attacks that occur.

So this odd group heads north, encounters zombies, fights zombies, gain new travel companions, watch some of those new companions die, and eventually reach the quarantine. And that’s about it for the plot. It’s basic, as far as zombie tale goes. But that’s not what I found so likeable about it.

The characters are brilliant – Remy in particular. She’s morose and unfriendly, an individual who’s bound to her duty and responsibility, and who’s also been understandably tainted by her experiences following the end of the world. She carries herself with a quiet strength that is beautiful and haunting at the same time. Harlow, her companion, is still young and often a bit more sensible than her protector. She is prone to outbursts of immaturity, and she holds a longing for some sort of normality that causes her to perhaps look past certain aspects of the people they meet, aspects that could prove dangerous, in the anticipation they could perhaps give her a safer, less hectic existence. Combine the two of them, and a somewhat depressing theme washes over the words that I find rare when considering the subgenre of apocalyptic zombie fiction. These are no more than children we have here, and the text doesn’t lose sight of the fact that they’ve lost their childhoods. In fact, this is in some ways the main point – that the girls are girls and they (especially Remy) lament the fact they’ve had to become women quickly. As I said, this is something I appreciate, a practical facet of storytelling that many who’ve written end-of-the-world tales (this side of McCarthy) tend to ignore.

And this is only one of the many themes presented within. Just as with the best horror, the monsters are simply part of the story, and the true moral is told with them as a backdrop. In fact, often it is the people, themselves, who are the real monsters. From the messianic zealot they meet (aptly named Korech, meaningful for those of you who remember Waco, Texas) to the violent marauders that populate one of the towns they come across, it ends up being regular old un-infected humans who beget some of the worst malevolence found within. And when you combine these ill-meaning actions with the sometimes selfish actions of Remy and her crew, you can see how those shades of gray filter into the characters, making every decision difficult. This adds to the hard-line feel that Remy, in particular, encapsulates. She is a woman on a mission, after all. How much of herself is she willing to sacrifice?

The answer, come the end of the book, is everything. And it’s beautiful.

I found very few flaws with this novel. It’s told in first-person, which isn’t my favorite viewpoint (though I have used it in the past, myself), but for this it works. It allows us to see the world through Remy’s jaded eyes, to feel her dissatisfaction and doubt, to understand how much she simply wants to be the teenager she is. In fact, come the final pages, it is only through her giving in to her humanity, when she finally allows herself to live rather than simply survive, that she is able to follow through with the hardest choice she’s made in her life. In that moment I cried out for her, wishing I could dive into the page and change her mind.

Hollowland is a fast read. I completed it in about four hours of engrossed reading. It’s simple in structure but complex in emotion. Author Hocking doesn’t shy away from gore (it’s there in abundance, of course, being a book about dead folks that eat people), but the violence of the piece doesn’t overwhelm the reader. It has everything a horror novel should have, and is entirely captivating. In other words, Hollowland is a rare treat, like a fine wine we know we should savor but can’t help consuming at a rapid pace because, well, it’s just so good. Hollowland might not redefine the genre, but it just may change the fact that women have been so sparse. This is something I hope to happen, because, well, it needs to.

Amanda Hocking is a master storyteller. She knows how to reel in her reader and keep them glued to her words. Anyone who has any interest at all in reading a well-told story needs to read this. It’s fantastic, horrific, and strangely beautiful. Once you reach the open ending, you’ll hope the writer decides to continue with Remy’s tale, because you’ll want to see these wonderfully fleshed-out characters carry out their journey to its conclusion.

Plot - 10

Characters - 10

Voice - 10

Execution - 8

Personal Enjoyment – 10

Overall – 48/50 (4.8/5)

Purchase Hollowland in the Kindle Store, or in paperback.