Molles continues rock the PAZ lit

The only easy day was yesterday… ain’t that the truth for Captain Lee Harden in D.J. Molles’ second book of the The Remaining series?  If you were easily pulled into the claustrophobic Post Apocalyptic Zombie world of Molles’ creation in The Remaining; then get ready to be pummelled and wrung out by the follow-up to it.  In The Remaining: Aftermath life certainly hasn’t gotten any easier, any safer, or any less complicated for our beleagured good guy.  But following Captain Harden through a destabilized North Carolina and watching him dispatch FURY infected crazies with military precision while herding frantic citizens to safety is just, well, fun.  With this installment, Molles has upped the gross-out and toughened up the softhearted.  Nobody is going quietly into their good night this time around.

The Good:  With his second novel, Molles drops the reader right back into the action where it left off in The Remaining.  He also finds an organic way to reintroduce readers to the story in progress, without browbeating us with a clumsy recap.  Using Captain Harden’s injuries and disorientation to great advantage, Molles is able to continue the action while our protagonist realistically tries to get up to speed and remember where he is.  It is a clever way to remind the reader of the first book while moving the story forward.  And, frankly, that is what this book is… one non-stop thrust of forward motion.

The Worm is also going to give props to Molles for playing to his strengths again with this book.  There are female characters and there are children but Molles doesn’t seem overly confident in how to depict them (at least not extensively) and so he doesn’t.  God bless him for it.  He has his tentacles deep in Captain Harden’s psyche and that is good enough for this reader.  The female characters are functional and definitely not superfluous – they just are not explored to any great depth.  Again, this is probably a great editorial choice because they are important characters and to get them wrong would be a greater sin than to largely ignore their inner workings.

Nitpicking:  To the best of The Worm’s knowledge, The Remaining series is a collection of D.J. Molles’ self-published work.  First off; that is pretty freaking amazing.  However (you knew this was coming…) despite the tight plotting, careful editing, and smooth narration the book could still have done with some proofing.  There are more than a few typos.  (He instead of him; me instead of mine; etc. You know, the kind of thing that happens when an author rewrites a passage?)  Now, there aren’t many of these errors and they are not so egregious as to pull the reader out of the action – but they’re there and seem somehow more noticeable here than in the first book.  Perhaps Molles was in a rush to capitalize on the success of his first installment and did not spend as much time proofing this one?  Either way, the typos in The Remaining: Aftermath are few and stand out only because Molles maintains such high standards in every other regard.  In truth, if this book were written with the uneven skill and shaky confidence of a newbie writer, minor typos would be easily forgiven.  But Molles reads like a bonafide rock star writer so The Worm is going to give him the grief typically reserved for the big boys.  I’m pretty sure he can take it.

Favorite Scenes:  It isn’t a huge spoiler, but The Worm will still attempt to be coy with this one.  Lee Harden does something unexpected while at the used car dealership that could read as uber sentimental but the quiet payoff that comes later makes it all worth while.  It also serves to remind the readers of both the beauty and the difficulty inherent in holding to an ideal. 

I can’t decide if the final chapter in The Remaining: Aftermath is my favorite scene; the most memorable scene; or the one that makes me want to track D.J. Molles down and beat him about the head until he tells me what is going on.  Luckily for this worm, the third novel is already out and – what’s this? – already loaded onto my Kindle.   

Random Musings:  While reading these books, I am reminded of my brother and his friends reading all the Mack Bolan/Phoenix Force books in the late eighties and early nineties.  Those were serialized, short, young adult reads for guys.  That is the feel Molles is giving off with his series.  (If moms and college girls can get all into Potter, why can’t a worm indulge in some PAZ fiction that is ostensibly YA?  Why can’t anybody?) There is some rough language in The Remaining: Aftermath and, naturally, there is violence – this is Post Apocalyptic Zombie lit, after all.  There are suggestions of sexual motivations and some scenes of depravity, but through it all there is a strong YA sensibility.  The good guy is a good guy.  He is disciplined and focused, while doing his level best to help people along the way.  Captain Lee Harden is basically a hero we can all get behind. 

What makes this novel work as both Young Adult fiction and as a tale adults can get sucked into?  It is because the thematic layers work independently of each other.  Molles does address psychology and politics (at the most animal/instinctive level).  Yet, if those themes are too subtle for younger readers, no worries.  Molles interspersed those bits with narration and plot progression so the younger fans can read through strictly for the plot points.  Maybe they only need to know who is on our hero’s side and who the baddies are.  It is okay if they don’t always understand the why of it all, but those deeper stirrings will keep mature readers second-guessing and wondering throughout.

This is a strange analogy to make about pustule-popping, skull-crushing PAZ fiction, but The Worm is gonna’ go there:  These stories work like Pixar movies do.  There is something for everybody and readers of any sophistication level can enjoy them – not tolerate or get through them, but genuinely enjoy the hell out of them.

Kinda Brilliant:

Smartly, he didn’t try to siphon each vehicle to see if there was fuel. Instead, he would insert the tube and feed it down into the bottom of the tank, then blow through it. If he made bubbles, he would siphon. If the air blew freely, they would move on.

Seriously? I’ve read a lot of books.  I’ve seen a lot of movies.  This makes perfect sense and I’ve never EVER seen it done this way.  Good to know!  Reminds me a little of the scene in The Steam-Powered Sniper in the City of Broken Bridges by Cassandra Duffy, with the metal shavings and the caulk.  Dunno’ how practical it is – but I like the effort at survivalist ingenuity!

Final Thoughts:  Molles does all the things you need in your PAZ lit and sets up the familiar scenarios, but does it very capably.  He sets tone, builds dread, raises stakes, and then rockets on to the action. 

Trite statement of 2013 coming… If you only experience one zombie tale this year, make it The Remaining series of books.  You will get all the humanity of The Walking Dead, the military suvivor skills of The Passage, and the thoughtfulness of World War Z in one tight package.  In fact, stop reading this review and just click on the link already.   

 

Brin cooks up Sci Fi with a side of absurdity

Kiln People by David Brin is a little bit Isaac Asimov and a little bit Douglas Adams.  It will make you ponder issues of accountability, reality, socialism, privacy, intellectual property, the soul, the afterlife, a litigious society, war, and consumerism to name just a few.  Now take all those lofty thoughts and tuck ‘em up on a shelf someplace where they won’t be forgotten and get down to the business of having a great time with this book.  It is clever and insightful; carefully plotted and mind bending.  Mostly it is a fun, funny, playfully acerbic detective adventure story.  With golems and fart jokes.

David Brin knows how to have a good time with his Sci Fi.  His world-building is deep and fully functional, complete with an evolved language and recognizably human characters.  The characters in Kiln People who are written cartoonishly over the top know they are – as does everybody they encounter.  This tale manages to be self-aware and deliciously delusional at the same time.

Brin is a master of the single Big Idea.  In my experience, his books read like thought experiments conducted by The Nutty Professor.  Take an goofball “what if” suggestion and then work backward (and forward) to give it a logical foundation and a controlled, plausible outcome.  That is what Kiln People is.  What if our current dependence on and exploration of the Internet lead to similar technological advances in the near future… i.e., the ability to live multiple lives with compartmentalized purposes, simultaneously.  We can currently do our banking, shopping, and run information searches electronically while our “real” self is busy watching a movie or reading a book or having dinner.  Brin takes that idea out of the digital realm (mostly) and creates a world in which short-lived physical “copies” of people perform specific mundane or unsafe tasks while the “original” version goes about his/her business, only inloading the memories of selected copies at the end of the day.  That’s it.  That is the major Sci Fi premise of Kiln People.  And Brin, blessedly, pretty much sticks with this concept throughout.

The author’s focus on this core idea is what makes his book so worthwhile.  He did not need to whip up a mountain of techno-jargon and confusing physics/mathematics.  Too often an overload of high concept gizmos can bury the heart of a book.  Brin has the restraint not to get lost in his world and to remember he is telling a detective story about characters that matter to the reader.  

Using his one “what if” idea, the rest of Brin’s world sort of unfolds organically.  Every societal development springs from this source in a way that feels utterly natural and logical.  (When the baddie’s plan is laid bare in a James Bond villian fashion, there are some pretty smoke-and-mirrors explanations of where he/she is taking this new tech… but scratching your head and thinking it sounds nuts works for the plot, so don’t worry about that.)

Lest you come to think Kiln People is all silly Sci Fi adventure, keep in mind Brin has written about a society not so different from our own.  He infused that society with one mega-twist of techno change, and then let his creations run amok in that world.  The characters in the story do not think deeply on what their society is – they have a mystery to solve.  But in every scene there is some stage-whispered clue that Brin is wanting us to at least glance at – some aspect of our possible future.  He never seems to give the specific answers to how/if people will adapt to major upheaval, but he asks plenty of questions. 

The colorful people, language, and adventure of the primary story will keep you engaged and giggling (if you’re the sort) but there are social questions lurking just outside the frame throughout.  So don’t fret if you need your Sci Fi to be “serious.”  Kiln People is going to make you laugh and make you think.  You will be so immersed in the world of greenies and grays and rox’s and rig’s that you won’t have time to be dazzled by the commentary in Brin’s work.  That will come later, after you’ve put the book down and certain scenarios will prick at your consciousness – sneakily invading your own world view and thought process.

Geek Out Moments:  Brin’s corny puns as chapter titles were fun because it felt like a comedic bit he committed to and then had to see through to the end, no matter how far he had to go to make it work; the inventive ways he works “ditto-speak” into the language;  in this 2002 novel Brin makes a “future/history” joke about Bill Gates and Windows 9 that made the book purchase worth it on it’s own.  Especially if you are currently experiencing Windows 8.

Nitpicks:  I have only one:  the length.  Kiln People is amazing in a number of ways, not the least of which is seeing how Brin juggles POV and simultaneous time lines and voices.  I mean, just imagining what that writing/outline process must have been like makes my neurons shrivel in surrender.  But, as I have found with some of Brin’s other work, he sometimes gives us too much of a good thing.  I found this particularly true with The Practice Effect.  He will have a fresh, fun idea and then sometimes play that note too long.  At least with Kiln People, Brin injected enough complicated plot and character development that the length of the novel is somewhat justified.

Favorite Character:  No surprise here, the frankie takes this prize.  Then again… doesn’t that mean they all do?  A quick thanks to Brin for not ruining the Clara character, either.  She doesn’t figure hugely into the plot (at least not directly), but she had the potential to be written very poorly as “the dame” to Albert’s “detective.”  She isn’t.

Favorite Scene: The Worm is feeling pressure to say something deep about symbolism here.  Like I should pick a scene that shows how intuitive and intellectual I am.  Totally not my style, though… My favorite scene is the gray’s effort to control the explosion at UK.  If a single word or cut-away were different in that passage it would have ruined the whole thing.  As it stands, it is Mel Brooksian humor at it’s best.  And it makes me blush just a little bit every time I tell somebody about this book because I can’t resist sharing what is essentially an ass joke.  Brin tells it better than I do.

Defense of Goofiness:  Does a Sci Fi future have to be either utopian or dystopian?  (And seriously… any Sci Fi that begins with a utopia is going to get dystopian FAST.)  Brin does something totally different.  He writes topian fiction.  (I made that up, but still.)  Kiln People is not picking on anybody.  That’s what is so refreshing and unusual in this work.  People unfamiliar with Douglas Adams or comedic Sci Fi might not know what to make of David Brin or what to expect from this novel.  A crap ton of Sci Fi takes itself so seriously that all future worlds seem on the brink of malevolent conscription or insidious mind control and murder.  That just isn’t what this tale is.  This is a detective story set in a world with some different rules.  Behind that there are a lot of questions and projections about human behavior and attitudes.  But Brin is not positioning himself as the judge and jury; he doesn’t even take the tone of investigative journalist or future moralist.    He is more the affable docent of this whacky possible-future museum – pointing out the changes and nuances, then moving on to the next exhibit.  Each tableau is vivid and frenetic, while the characters in them are solidly grounded.  Brin is funny, odd, self-deprecating, and snarky with a grin.  I’d wait in line for that tour, wouldn’t you?

 

Lo sets a high-water mark for YA

Malinda Lo continues to surprise.  Last year I read Huntress, which was a delicately nuanced portrayal of a fairy tale romance in an alternative world, and the impetus for me purchasing this novel.  Then I click open Adaptation and I have to keep reminding myself this is a Lo book.  This one is quick, where Huntress was languid.  This one is incredibly present, where Huntress was ethereal.  This one is action driven, where Huntress was internal and questioning.  The one similarity between Adaptation and Huntress?  Both are Young Adult reads (only in the strictest text-book definition) and both are written by a phenomenal talent.

To discuss what works in Adaptation, The Worm must point out what it doesn’t do.  It doesn’t condescend to the readership.  It doesn’t use a single unnecessary word, breath, or thought.  It doesn’t telegraph action or intention.  And it most definitely does not sacrifice plot on the alter of romantic contextualization.  This sci fi/conspiracy theory mystery is about just that – the mystery.  There are friendships and family relationships and romance for sure – our protagonist is a teenage girl for God’s sake.  But Reese is a person first and Lo does not have her meandering through the text pining and hand wringing to the exclusion of weightier issues in her life.

Now that we know what Adaptation is not, how about some examples of what Lo does remarkably well?  First off; she drops the reader directly into the plot and does so with such ease and skill that it took The Worm a moment to recognize what was so genius about it.  In the opening airport scenes, Lo is just specific enough in her vignette-like descriptions to allow the reader to fill in every airport experience they have ever had (or seen on film).  She does not describe each nook and cranny of the building - who needs that?  She does inject just enough for the reader to buy into the reality of the scene.  In particular, I am reminded of a a brief description of how the terminal windows become mirror-like as darkness falls, and this is but one of the carefully chosen visuals.  In a few condensed scenes, the reader gets all the information and specificity needed to fill in the rest.  Lo knows how to pick her moments and to choose her descriptions.  After all, the scene is not ABOUT an airport or ABOUT news reports.  It is about people and she keeps us with Reese throughout.  Does she need to ratchet up the dread as news reports filter in?  Describe the panic building amongst the passengers?  Not really, not in any earth-shaking way.  It is as if Lo knows we have all seen this type of tableau played out before and gives it to us in shorthand – so we can get on with our story.  The stage is set, and set well.

Now, I don’t want to give you the impression Lo’s work is thin or light on the immersion factor.  It isn’t.  But she either has a laser-sharp focus or some fantastic editors because Adaptation manages to infuse as much information as you need and then tricks your mind into filling in the rest.  I want to avoid any spoilers so I’ve chosen a scene from early in the novel to demonstrate this technique, but it is representative of the overall style.  Play along with me – it’ll be fun!  In this scene, Reese and company are careening down a desert highway at night.  They are panicked and lost.

The smoothness of the highway abruptly ended. The tires struck desert, and she felt the jarring impact right down into her bones. Loose rocks rumbled beneath the car; dust flew up into the high beams. The car had gone off the road, and now it was rolling downhill. Reese pumped frantically at the brakes, but it didn’t seem to make a difference.

Okay, short and to the point.  No ham-handed attempts at heightening the drama, right?  But close your eyes and think about the scene.  You can hear the grinding of the undercarriage and taste the desert dust easily – maybe even feel your own adreneline surging through your body.  But look back and you’ll find Lo never specifically describes sound or color or taste or a pounding heart in the scene at all, yet we’ve all had some sort of similar experience and our brains just fill it all in.  Nice. 

What else is refreshing about Adaptation?  How about an adult being able to write teenagers and have the gall, balls, and confidence to let them speak like humans?  Too often writers of Young Adult books create a slang-laden, pseudo-pop culture speak for their protagonist that reeks of gimmick.  (And of that parent who tries to hard to “connect” with the kids.)  Lo doesn’t succumb to this temptation.  She writes her teenagers like young humans, not like caricatures of youthful cool.  On a related note, Lo also handles technology deftly.  There is none of the self-conscious, clunky explanation of cell phone use, the Internet, and social media which is either over-used or over-explained in much of the other contemporary fiction about teenagers.  Yes, tech exists in Adaptation, but it is used as function and engine for the plot.  At the same time, Lo writes about these things in a way that feels natural.  Her characters are not defined by media and technology, it is just threaded through their lives.  (Best of all, Lo is familiar enough with tech and social media to create realistic dramatic scenes without having to lose a freaking cell phone every five minutes.  She also doesn’t get so enamoured with the possibilities of the digital world that she forgets about the human drama.)  In a long-winded way, I reckon what I’m saying is this:  I think Lo actually uses a smart phone and Facebook, rather than just marvelling at her nephew’s Vita and thinking it would be a “hip” thing to put in a book.

Next comes Lo’s handling of her cast of supporting characters.  For a relatively short book, with a conspiracy mystery at it’s heart, it was surprising to find so many prominent secondary characters.  More surprising still was that they all work and are all distinctly textured.  Every named character in this novel moves plot, has agency, and contributes to either Reese’s resolutions or her predicaments.  Like Lo’s handling of the prose – nothing is wasted on fluff.  On this topic, and without spoiling anything, The Worm must give props for the way Reese actually includes the periphery characters in the story.  None of that all-too-easy plot padding by having our protagonist keep every damn secret and detail to herself – just to heighten the drama and circumvent logic.  Mega-astro-props to Lo for having Reese share some things with her parents.  (This is only the second time The Worm has given Mega-astro-props to an author this year!)

Personal Geek Outs:  Sometimes an author inadvertently gives a reader a geek-out moment.  Adaptation had several such surprises that brought me on board right away.  For The Worm they were:  a Seattle mention, The Left Hand of Darkness, a district attorney character, and an opening  quote from the man himself, Charles Darwin!  I was geeking all over myself right from jump.

The line “Birds don’t destroy planes, people do,“ just makes me laugh every time I think of it.

I don’t know where Lo gets her cover art or how much say she has in it – but it has been remarkable on both Huntress and Adaptation

Nitpicking:  If I am going to be so totally won over by an author and/or story, I must challenge myself to find something less-than-perfect to discuss.  Scraping the sides of the bowl, I’ve come up with two comments.  One:  The love triangle has a strong Runaways vibe (the Whedon and Vaughan runs, at least) which isn’t a bad thing, just a familiar one.  Two:  The pace faltered a bit during the memorial service sequence.  At the same time, this felt calculated, so I don’t know that I can fault the use of the pause – maybe, in terms of technique, it just wasn’t as controlled as the rest of the novel.

Post-Read Wrap-Up:  I refuse to spoil such a delightful read, so these might be worth thinking about once you’ve already read Adaptation, and find yourself struggling to put your finger on why it was so different from the scores of other YA reads making the rounds right now:

The casual mention of PCS after the accident was a nice nod to keeping things current.  Also a great way to avoid the whole “you’re fine – nothing to see hear” BS we’ve all seen in too many novels of this type.  Handy dandy way to raise awareness; keep our characters real (seeing a doctor for goodness sake); and still leave it open-ended enough that our plot can move forward.  It’s a small thing, but those are the touches that make a good book great.

Reese’s mother has concerns about a new relationship and Lo avoids the obvious and groaner-trite scenario of hysterical non-acceptance.  BUT she also doesn’t leave it at a granola-crunching hug fest, either.  Love, love, love that Lo was able to show a parent being a parent (questions are asked) without being a stereotype of either kind.

While I’m addressing parents… the adults in Adaptation do not steal the scene or solve all the problems, but they are not irrelevant set decoration, either.  (Or, more typically in YA novels, foils for our kids.)  Reese’s mother, Mr. Chapman, doctors, and agents all have important parts to play in this story.  Lo writes them with as much truth as she does her three leads.

At the conclusion of Adaptation I wanted more.  Not necessarily a sequel, just… more.  I want a novel of Julian’s blog entries and Internet research.  I want the story told from, and expanded on, by Amber.  Hell, I’d be interested in re-reading the whole thing from the David’s perspective.  And that, when all is read and done, is what makes Adaptation so good.  You are going to want more.

Alpert rocks future (?) tech

The Worm is going to invoke William Gibson, Neal Stephenson, Jonathan Maberry, and Scott Siegler rather specifically in this review/critique.  I apologize to readers unfamiliar with their work, but the comparisons and contrasts jumped so readily to mind, I couldn’t leave them out.  I’ll hit those references hard in the beginning and then move on to a more conventionally (?) guerilla-styled review once we get into narrative and character.  This first bit is all about tone and style, though, so it may be of some help to you while deciding if Extinction might be your thing.  Or not?

Neal Stephenson light.  That is what Extinction by Mark Alpert had me thinking initially.  Or maybe “light” has a negative connotation – so let’s say Alpert delivers the same type of near-future tech nightmare that Stephenson has made a career out of, but without Stephenson’s self-indulgent flights of the absurd thrown in.  And now that sounds disparaging to Stephenson.  Alright, last try… Alpert is in the mold of Stephenson but his approach is more straightforward and without a lot of the extra artistic flourish that Stephenson uses.  Fair?  If you like Stephenson’s subject matter and tense action, you will adore Alpert’s Extinction.  If you appreciate the cynical tangent-laded prose in Stephenson’s works, you may find Alpert too prosaic for your tastes.

Extinction is a technological thriller, but it is not done in the way that William Gibson’s novels are.  Gibson rewires your language, sensibilities, and thought process before he even gets to plot.  His stories are immersive experiences brewed in Gibson’s own specific juices.  Alpert gives us characters and scenarios that, while futuristic, are still essentially human and familiar.  One does not have to already understand cutting-edge science or military culture to immediately grasp the plot and tone of Extinction.  Best of all, Alpert takes the reader on an exciting survey-style crash course into robotics, neural implants, drones, and other whiz-bang tech.  He doesn’t go crazy in-depth the way Stephenson did with the code-breaking in Cryptonomicon, but he covers more tech overall than that book did, and does it in under 400 pages.  Alpert dazzles with far-out current tech theory and then injects it with terrifying “what if.”  And he, blessedly, doesn’t get too mired in the mechanical and scientific specifics.  He shoves the badass tech in your face, warns that it could easily become reality, and then zips on to the next eye-goggling gadget and ominous bad guy.  In it’s execution, Extinction leans more towards Scott Siegler than William Gibson.  Alpert has an exuberant appreciation for the tech and also a giddy fear of what it may herald for society.  In short, Alpert is geeking out hard in this book, and his enthusiasm is infectious.

With that in mind, I can say the following with some confidence:  If you enjoyed the pure enjoyment factor and light science in Patient Zero by Jonathan Maberry, you will likely enjoy the adventure of Extinction.  The subject matter is different, but the tone is nearly identical.  This isn’t a deep narrative or expose on the dangers of unchecked scientific advancement (although it is based on those ideas).  It is just a really good time with a lot of action and enough plausible science to give one pause.

Characters:  The character of Layla was quite a surprise in this novel.  She is not surprising in her look or speech.  The idea of a computer hacking wunderkind being a twenty-something goth girl isn’t new (The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo and Hackers come to mind) but this reviewer was really impressed with Alpert’s characterization of Layla as a person.  It would have been easy to write her as a stereotype of rebellious youth; ripe for the lessons only dear old dad can impart.  But Alpert did not take the lazy way out with her.  Instead, her motivation is subtle and a perfect fit.  By the time we come to learn why she does what she does, it gels nicely with what we know about other characters (namely, her father).

Instead of being cookie-cutter characters slotted into their proper place for this type of novel, the characters in Extinction make sense.  Their motivations and decisions fit within the logic of Alpert’s world building.  It all makes for a nice, and surprisingly nuanced interconnectedness.  Not much time is really spent on deep analysis or physical descriptions of the folks that populate Alpert’s novel – they are all largely defined by their actions, past and present.  That is not to say they are shallow.  Alpert does a fine job of letting actions speak for themselves in a way that shades his characters with depth and specificity.  The baddies of varying degrees of badness have tweaked motivations and even our heroes are not always on the same page.  Mix all those competing interest and you get a surprising, fast paced thriller with pretty high emotional stakes.

Issues:  In spots, the dialogue is a little simple, but only noticeably so in the early chapters.  Once the action takes off Alpert finds a groove with his character voices and loses this need to call attention to every thought and emotion.  Or maybe The Worm was just having such a great time trying to keep up with the action that it no longer mattered?  That is really an inconsequential nitpick but there it is.  It was particularly bad in one scene, in which Jim is not expecting anyone to come to his door after the work day and actually says “that’s odd” to himself.  We didn’t need that obvious tag and it didn’t add anything to the tension of the scene.

See?  I told you it was really minor.  Some of the speechifying while talking to the young amputee soldier before that was a bit heavy-handed, too, but in retrospect it played fine.  Jim was being, after all, sort of a crusader-salesman so it worked on the whole.

Plot-wise I struggled a little with the repeated escapes from the drone swarms.  I mean, Alpert was doing a fantastic job of creating a 3-dimensional escape sequence with accurately rendered geography and choreography.  His timing in these sequences is really tight.  So each time we got to the swarm closing in on our heroes… well, too often it seemed impossible that they could escape unharmed.  I don’t want to give too much away, but some of the escapes were bordering on the impossible.  Like when Jim cleverly uses something to incapacitate the drones and the “rolls away” after they’ve fallen from the sky.  I can’t spoil why this seems like a really, really bad idea – but trust me, it is.  So the handling of the drone attacks were amazing – until the moment of escape, when suddenly time seemed to stretch Matrix-style and people had ridiculous amounts of time to formulate plans and implement them.  The problem seems to be that Alpert invented a pretty kick-ass baddie here… so much so that it would be damn near impossible to escape it.

Favorite Scenes:  The mechanical arm doing it’s thing early in the book; the nod to the battery as the next big hurdle in technological advancement (a favorite subject of The Worm’s); the Panama Canal sequence is pure action movie badassery.

The Final Word:  This book isn’t cheap.  At least not when compared to many of the self-published, used, or older novels most often reviewed at guerillabookworm.  But it would make a good vacation read at any price, and once the price point drops a bit it will be a steal.  Check it out.  Alpert delivers a technological thriller that is heavy on both action and on character.  How often can one say that? 

**Once again, thanks to the Scientific American podcast, Science Talk, for introducing guerillabookworm to Mr. Alpert and his book.

Shift Omnibus cements Howey as Sci Fi’s heir apparent

Asimov, Heinlein, Clarke, Serling… masters all.  You know, the real Sci Fi.  Before we became enamored with gadgetry, gleaming chrome, physics, meteors, and plasma rays.  When stories were about people and societies.  Howey seems to have studied at the feet of these titans and learned his lessons well.  He is a master, himself, of the “what if.”  He also happens to tell one hell of a story.

If Wool was about information control and suppression, then Hugh Howey’s prequel to it, Shift, is about an even more insidious loss of individuality and thought – the self-inflicted kind.  Throughout the three books of this omnibus Hugh Howey returns to variations on a couple themes; those of willfull ignorance and the dangers of apathy.  And of course, the evils of absolute power. 

If you follow The Worm at all, you know apathy is like… well, a seriously bad trip in my world.  So imagine my white-knuckling, Kindle cracking enthusiasm when I clicked into Shift and found Howey mucking around in the world of self-medication, intentional naivete, and emotional numbness.  Score!  It seems Howey has a lot more to say about society than he covered in Wool, and here we are, exploring those issues in the insular world of his Silo Saga.  Howey is again picking at those intellectual and political scabs and giving us a terrific good time in the process.  Not one to draw characters in stark black and white, he jumps into a slightly different POV in this collection and lets us watch society unravel from a different vantage point.  As he hinted at in Wool, even the “baddies” have a story to tell.  And in the three acts of Shift, Howey focuses our attention on choices made by some of those individuals, rather than just on the oppression of the masses.  But things are still murky and gray, which is just how The Worm likes it.  Instead of returning strictly to the paradigm of worker v. management, Howey tilts the screen a bit and gives us a more personal look at revolution.  Instead of the reader watching as society rebels, we get the insider’s perspective in Shift.  The chaotic swivel between acceptance and rebellion – all within the individual.

The structure of book one is a little different than the straight episodic nature of Wool’s five books.  Here we get a tight political thriller to set up our prequel, but it is told in two time lines for a nice change, good fun, and crazy cool parallel action.  In book two we get parallel stories told in the same timeline but from differing locations.  Then book three brings it all home… perfectly.

The Worm really wants to remain spoiler-free in this review.  Let’s just say there is a moment/statement/scene at around the 10% mark involving Silo 12 that had me bummed that reading is a solo activity.  I so wanted to look around and nod and grin and shout out, “Here we go!”  I literally couldn’t contain myself.  (Dork.)  I never feel that.  Sometimes I feel a little simpatico with an author who nails a sentiment just so.  Or I think I have to share a particularly clever twist or line with coworkers and friends.  But I don’t think I’ve ever before had the urge to look up from the book grinning like everybody in the area had just experienced the same Holy-Crapballs, This-is-Gonna’-Be-Awesome moment I had.  But I’m sharing it now!  Troy’s scene in the middle of book one is pure geekgasm goodness.  This is what a prequel SHOULD do to you.  Not just fill in plot holes or add character moments.  Certainly not extend a franchise or pad a thin plot.  A prequel should only exist if it is going to give this particular kind of bite.  A prequel has to enhance, fill-in, and expand.  But it has to do it within a framework and have a definite end-point.  We all know where certain narrative threads are leading… but the splendour of this prequel is that Howey sneaks those threads in behind you to gently tap your shoulder and tickle your nose and whisper in your ear… all while the big ‘un is lurking around the corner, waiting to knock you off any safe ground you thought you were standing on.  Then it jumps up and down on your face.  You’re one crafty bastard, Mr. Howey; I mean, sneaking a clue into a southern accent?  Who does that?  And why did it take until the reveal for me to see it?  Damn it, man!

The wicked brilliance never really lets up throughout Shift and during the third section you have another “hell yeah” moment to look forward to.  Actually, it was more of a “go, girl, go” moment, but that is all I will say about that bit of goodness.  It isn’t really a spoiler but a tasty way of merging our Silo Saga tales.  And then the moment with a chalkboard that literally gave me the tingles of anticipation and recognition you normally only get when watching the hero moment in a film.  And then there is… well, I think it should be clear by now.  Shift is packed to the rafters with these thrilling moments and if I were to list all my favorites my keyboard would rebel and server would crash.

The Worm Makes Another Comparison to Stephen King:  Howey’s legend is growing and if he remains as prolific, accessible, and original as King has been ‘lo these many decades - his, too, will become one of those names that is a brand unto itself.  Then the early adopters (as happened with King) can groan and turn on Howey when all the bandwagoners ‘discover’ him.  Suddenly us Howey-ites will have to roll our eyes and pretend he is passe.  We’ll make the obligatory comments about how he was a visionary with Wool and Half Way Home, but fell off some (some say sold out) by the time he got to novel thirty or forty.  Or around the time he started doing American Express commercials and popping up in movie cameos.  But he won’t care ‘cuz he’ll be rolling in the cheddar.  That and Howey will know us for the phony blowhard turncoats we are.  And know, too, that once hooked on The Howey, we’re gonna’ keep buying up every word the guy cranks out.  So don’t play.  You love this shit and you’re gonna’ keep on loving it, so get the Shift Omnibus and settle in for an amazing prequel to Wool.  Just be sure you read Wool first… then you can experience how satisfying a prequel can be without goofy racial stereotypes and CGI bloat… er… I mean, when it is done with some careful planning and rock star execution.

Geeky Goodness:  Mega-astro-props to Howey for mentioning podcasts as a legit form of media in his near-future Washington, D.C.  As an aficionado of ‘casts, I got a goofy glow when I read that.

Howey seems to have a fascination with the morphology and evolution of language.  He injects these tweaks in several fun and clever ways.  There are plenty of spots in Shift that gave me a this joy jolt.   The ‘locomotive’ and ‘hypercritical’ bits come immediately to mind.  It all works subtly to pull the reader into a tactile world with grit and history and flaws.  Genius.

Loved the Homeric/mythological lit referrences and got sad (in a way only a geek can) when they were called out later in the book.  Sometimes it is just fun to keep those chuckles and nods to myself.

Favorite Non-Spoilery Lines:  The stench of his own waste greeted him as he moved between the tall towers.  That wasn’t how you were supposed to greet someone, he thought.  His poop was rude.

Blurby Stylistic Notes:  Howey seems to embrace each work with a gleeful clean canvas approach.  His world-building is tight and his foundations are rock solid.  Then he seemingly steps up to each new saga/chapter/work with a sense of organic creation – all contained on a solid frame.  Shift fits perfectly into the rhythm and cannon of Wool.  Clearly they are works by the same man, and yet Howey manages to give Shift its very own sensibility.  If Wool was rusty sepia tones, the palate in Shift is more supersaturated, high def blues and grays and cold silver.  This change works gorgeously for tone and narrative chronology – as does the overall ‘wetness’ of the near future, pre-apocalypse world.  Another of those little flourishes that lesser authors wouldn’t have considered.  Maybe Howey didn’t either.  Maybe he did this subconsciously.  I kinda’ doubt it, though.  I used to believe in happy artistic accidents – and then along came Hugh Howey.  Mad skills.

The Twelve fails to deliver on the promise of The Passage

Spoilers for The Passage will necessarily follow, but really, you should not be reading The Twelve if you don’t already know The Passage.  We’re about to go crazy in-depth with The Twelve.  The Worm just dug the first book too much not to hold this novel to a ridiculously high standard.  That said, here we go…

Brilliant Exposition:  So, the genius continues to blast straight from Justin Cronin’s glowing synapses right onto the opening pages of The Twelve.  How to rehash exposition from an epic book one?  Cronin knows how.  With a booming self importance that borders on egomaniacal.  Yet he pulls it off because… well, to quote Ms. Beyonce… he can back it up.  At least in the opening pages and a few of the subsequent scenes.  To spoil the exposition and it’s style would be to criminally rob you of experiencing it for yourself so suffice it to say – Cronin rocks the recap.  Only, after reading the whole novel, I now see that terrific start as Cronin taking a bow for the greatness of The Passage.  It really oversells the importance and gravitas of The Twelve, though.

In The Beginning:  The early going in The Twelve takes us back to the first days after the apocalypse.  Cronin employs the same technique and narrative structure he used in the first book.  We start off in the immediate aftermath of the viral outbreak – sort of examining what was going on with tangential characters from The Passage.  (For example, we follow Wolgast’s wife, Lila, and also a couple of the sweepers and military personell from The Chalet.)  The action has the same immediacy we have come to expect from Cronin.  In fact, there are some pretty fantastic set-pieces and wonderful character development.  The Ferrari escape and Danny the simpleton bus driver for example.  There is even some question as to who characters are and what they are about.  But (and this distinction is important) we get answers to those brief mysteries quickly and the action continues… until it suddenly doesn’t and we abruptly time shift as we did in The Passage

The Middle:  So we jump to our familiar future and join up with our epic heroes (Peter, Michael, Alicia, Amy) who continue their journey about five years after the events of The Passage.  This is where the pacing of the novel begins to bog down for The Worm.  In the first book the time shift was jarring but Cronin fed us enough action and intrigue to build interest in the new characters.  But in The Twelve there just is not a whole lot going on during most of the book.  I was half way through the novel when I realized all the main characters were still only briefly touching base with each other and floundering about on their own.  There is an attempt to create a sort of pre-ordained “drawing together” of key figures, but frankly it takes way too long.  The Twelve is excruciatingly lackadaisical in its assembling of our heroes.  With the exception of Alicia and Peter going on an ill-fated expedition into some caves, there are barely any virals in the first half of the book.  No virals!   What The Twelve does have, though, is a whole lot of biblical evangelizing.  What had been an allegorical and amorphous spirituality in The Passage becomes a more strident presence in The Twelve.  Is Cronin trying to force an ideology on us or is he just spelling it out because he  didn’t trust his readers to “get” what he’d been saying in The Passage?  Dunno’.  But the book has so many more egregious issues that I don’t have time to figure this element out.

 With The Twelve, our heroes really don’t have anything to do and that is just the hard truth.  Cronin can write the hell out of scene, there is no question about that, but he’s got these gorgeously described scenes and nothing happening in them.  There is a lot of traveling and meeting up with old friends for brief acknowledgements and backslapping.  Naturally, a lot that needs to be said between characters just isn’t.  They constantly keep information to themselves (and from the readers).  I realize Cronin was building to a mystery and was waiting for all the pieces to be assembled before his reveal… but come on.  You have to give us more to follow than just characters playing “I have a secret” for hundreds of pages.  Every single character seems to be aware of their own importance in the “grand scheme” but large swaths of the novel just seem to follow them around while they become more and more convinced of their specialness – without doing a god damned thing!  I guess what I’m saying is The Twelve became too internal and what was in there wasn’t particularly interesting or new.  Where is the danger?  The excitement?  Hell, the fun even?  Remember when there were viral attacks, countdowns, and political squabbles?  A lot of this book makes the days on Maggie’s Farm seem simply raucous.  (Sorry, that bit is for Walking Dead fans only.)

Okay, so the middle section of The Twelve was kinda’ dull… Cronin has given us so much awesome that he deserves a little bit of pass.  The Passage is a pretty tough act to follow.  And, within a trilogy, book two is the middle act so it doesn’t get the novelty of an origin story, nor the thrill of a climax.  Yet, the middle act is also where the character building is supposed to happen, right?  Well, characters are addressed here, but I don’t know how much building happens.  Sadly, Cronin falls back on the biggest weakness from The Passage… namely too many characters.  In the first book, I wasn’t able to really zero in on any of the important ones until the others started dropping like flies before the glowing bug zapper that was the viral horde.  Now, in The Twelve, Cronin has descendants of those same characers popping in and out of the narrative mostly to provide incredibly convenient assistance or information when it is needed by our wandering heroes.  Really, Cronin has taken our spirtual postapocalyptic thriller and turned it into a World War II spy/rebellion story.  Which could actually be cool if he could pull it off, but it feels like the narrative gets away from him.  His characters (with the exception of Wolgast, Babcock, Carter, and maybe Amy) were never particularly complex to begin with.  And here it seems we are supposed to be so invested the inner workings of all the newer characters that we could appreciate their covert movements.  Sadly, I was not and did not.  The Passage did not win readers over by being shadowy and mysterious.  Mystery is fine in it’s place, but this world and these arch-typical characters can’t really pull it off.  The story suffers for taking it’s mysteries too seriously.  I’m reminded a little of the scowling Michonne from the Walking Dead television series.  Skulking, brooding characters loose their impact if that is all they do.  Cool can very easily become boring.  With The Twelve, Cronin has his characters in their own heads so much that they become frustratingly one-note.  The whole problem could just be a logistical one… he separated many of his actors for so long it became difficult to get into rhythm with any of them.  Or it could be that Cronin’s key distinctions between characters fall into two easily (for him) defined camps.  You have men and you have women.  And here is where we get into real trouble.  Ready? 

If a character’s name is Michael or Peter or Hollis or Enrique (or Bob, or Joe, or Brett:  you get where I’m going)… then no real motivation or differentiation is needed.  He is man.  He is important and doing secretive manly things that involve plans and logistics and weapons.  If your name is Shawna or Lila or Amy or Alicia or Sara or Lore, etc. you are woman and you are defined 1) by your relationship to sex  and/or 2) your success or failure to breed and mother.  Without exception every SINGLE female character in this novel is judged by these standards or at least has these issues imposed upon them.  And not just by the author, who chose to give them these motivations, but by the men in the novel who, for good or ill, render final judgment on the women in the extreme.

I have respect for Cronin because his first book, The Passage, was amazing.  But what in the hell happened with The Twelve?  It is a long novel full of set pieces that are twisted versions of a damsel tied to the railroad tracks waiting for her man to save her.  Throw in a whole heaping helping of “Where are my babies?  I want a baby.  Are you my mother? Can I be your Mama? Protect my baby!”  Then toss in a dash of violence, rape and prostitution – and you’ve got yourself a novel, if you’re into that sort of thing. 

This book is far more darkly sexual than some readers may anticipate.  To avoid spoilers, I will say only that a horrific scene occurs late in the novel that damn near had me giving up on the whole series.  It was gratuitous, violent, and absolutely without question torture porn.  It was also a wholly unnecessary addition to a scene that did not require any extra violence.  The whole tenor of The Twelve is difficult and maybe revels a bit too much in the psychological, physical, and emotional destruction of the female characters.  More on that, sadly, in a bit.

The End:  As our heroes start to form up into teams, toward the climax of the novel, the pace does pick up and an effort is made to perk up the action.  The problem is, what were brilliant re-imaginings of familiar tropes in The Passage, became merely cliche in The Twelve.  Without giving too much away, Peter is introduced to a rather Thunderdome-like practice near the three-quarters mark in the novel.  His response is wildly predictable, unnecessary, and juvenile.  I’d expected much better from Cronin and the character of Peter.  Juvenile and unnecessary can be fun – in a certain type of novel – but this isn’t that type.  The macho chest-thumping blood lust just felt out of character for Peter and beneath Cronin’s incredible talents.  But he does get things back on track for a while and the plot moves along nicely as our chess pieces form up on the board.  The final action sequence is nicely choreographed and has some fun visual elements.  High marks for that, and for the sensitive and nicely nuanced dream sequence in the end.

Of course most of our heroes live to fight another day (it is no secret this is a trilogy). Yeay!  We defeat the horde, sorta’, and all the good girls get paired off to have babies and make families.  Wait, what???  This, aparently, is their reward for surviving.  Cronin goes to such great lengths to pair everybody up, Noah’s ark style, that there is one particular couple that is so ridiculously shallow (by that I mean, he has a penis and she, a vagina) I laughed at it.  Actual laughter.  I suppose maybe Cronin didn’t know how else to reward these characters for their loyal service to the cause so he gave them to each other.  Hilarious.  He just can’t help himself.  I guess that is the most any of us can ask for, right?  (There is one female character whom Cronin has never described as particularly sexual or nurturing.  Life is pretty rough for that one.  In fact it is brutally rough.)

All that being said, believe it or not, the final scenes in The Twelve are nicely structured and satisfying.  But it is a hauntingly familiar recall to the conclusion of The Passage.  In fact, on almost a beat-by-beat level (if you take out the rambling bits in the middle), The Twelve is essentially The Passage 2.0.  This isn’t a bad thing, as The Passage was phenomenal, but I kind of expected something new and not so creepy from The Twelve.

The Worm Stirs the Shit:  So let’s talk about the creep-out factor.  The Worm is just going to say this and let it be what it is.  (Deep breath.)  There are some rather disturbing emotional/sexual situations in The Twelve.  I’m not talking about disturbing in the sense that they are supposed to shock or repel.  I’m saying in plain English that Cronin includes some extremely questionable relationships and writes them lovingly.  There is the sexual liason between the teenager and the thirty-year old that is written as if it is a moving and life-affirming experience for both parties.  (I will admit that there is line in the dialogue about the girl having just turned eighteen.  It felt completely out of tempo with the rest of the conversation and reeked of an editorial note.  But it is a cop-out line nonetheless because she had been described as a high schooler for pages and pages.  Also, it is unclear whether the man in the relationship even believes her age or cares.  And Cronin kept describing her as having some sort of mature aura that exceeded her years.  Rationalize much?  Gross.) 

Which leads us directly to the Amy figure.  You knew we were going to have to get to it.  It was oh-so-barely hinted at in The Passage, but went down a bit easier because it was somewhat sweet – or could safely be interpreted that way.  You know what I’m talking about… the kiss that Amy gave Peter in the mall rescue scene from The Passage.  When she was physically about eight years old.  So here’s the thing, despite all that these characters have been through since – Peter has never forgotten that kiss.  Neither has Amy apparently.  Gross, again.  Here is yet another young female character always described as mature for her years, with a soul much wiser than her child’s body.  Alright, at LEAST with this character you can buy that because she is over a hundred years old.  (Interview with A Vampire, anybody?)  But here is my ultimate problem with the Amy/Peter relationship… she has the body of a pre-teen in The Twelve.  He is a grown man who, it is seems, is largely celibate.  He is emotionally connected to an actual woman (Alicia) that he can’t have because she isn’t really about the mothering, homesteading thing.  Then we  jump to scenes with Amy who, I’m guessing, is another “woman” he can’t have.  I can’t really explain it better than that.  The whole relationship is just coated in an icky film and it is particularly tough to take because it is sold in such a matter-of fact way.  Oh, and Amy is going through something mystical that is (maybe) her menses right when Peter comes to visit her and they get to reminiscing about the kiss.  Eww.  Add that to the increasingly religious proselytizing in The Twelve and a picture is forming unbidden – that of fringe cults and child wives.

Then there is the one other striking bit of sexuality in The Twelve, and it centers on Michael.  The Worm had gotten through half of this projected trilogy without sex ever really been a particularly large part of the story.  Then we are treated to Michael getting it on with a woman who is depicted as sexually rapacious and insatiable.  She wants Michael and even loves him, despite his not reciprocating her feelings.  He even enjoys the frat boy attention he gets for his sexual escapades, but clearly has no respect or true feeling for her beyond a mild affinity.  She is described as not being particularly attractive and rather masculine.  And she also flirts with Peter to get closer to Michael’s heart.  My question is … why?  Why is she in the novel?  Why is Michael with her?  WTF is the point?  Her entire motivation for taking incredible risks throughout the novel seems to be her blind devotion to this man who has, at best, lukewarm feelings for her.  Pathetic.

For the record:  I am not accusing Cronin of having wacky religious beliefs or trying to insinuate the same into mainstream culture.  That would be a massive stretch of the imagination and, frankly, I don’t know a darn thing about Cronin or his beliefs.  The Worm is all about the novel and how it reads.  It is entirely possible nobody else will get the same creep-out vibe I got.  It is also possible that Cronin never intended the message in the first place and would laugh to see my bizarre reading of his novel.  I am fully aware that things get lost in translation; that not every idea is transmitted in a pristine form; that editors will have their say.  Just be warned:  there are more psychosexual dynamics at play in this book than were ever hinted at in The Passage.

Speaking of psychosexual… how about the role of sweepers in both The Passage and The Twelve?  Remember them?  Custodial staff recruited exclusively from the ranks of the chemically castrated sex offenders?  Now we get to follow one of them, post apocalypse.  And I really liked Lawrence Grey.  I thought it was sort of awkwardly sweet how he had his chance at redemption early in the novel.  But within the larger context of the sexual metaphores in The Twelve, I am forced to look askance at even this storyline.  We have a chemically castrated sex offender (molester of little boys) who now is infected by virals and possibly rejecting his chemical alteration.  He is paired up with a pregnant woman whom he takes under his care and protection.  He essentially becomes a father figure but the dynamic, as imposed by the woman with her childish behavior, forces him into more of a husband’s role.  The inclusion of that aspect of the story feels maybe, a tiny bit, possibly… like Cronin labeled Grey despicable (child molester) and then suggested that once infected he could reject that part of himself, and by absorbing a heterosexual relationship (minus the sex?) he is reborn a hero.  I don’t know.  I would have to spend whopping amounts of time trying to extract just WTF any of that might mean.  There is a whiff of programming/deprogramming  and realignment of sexual identity that has a potentially darker underpinning.  But what the hell, its just a fun fantasy book, right?  I’m probably making too much over too little.  The random trannies included in the book were likely just for local, seedy color.  Right?  Eh.  Just how The Worm turns sometimes! 

Viral Conceit:  I’m always fascinated by the way authors build worlds and set a tone.  And then I get to watch them party in a world of their making.  I mean – they get to create it ALL but the flip side is, I believe, that they have to live with their creations and characters.  By using a virus as a founding factor in his novel, Cronin has given himself a perfectly genius cheat.  He gets to shift or ‘mutate’ the virus endlessly.  There are different strains and different reactions in different individuals.  This gives him an easy way to tweak the good guys, the bad guys, the message, and the metaphor.  But it also provides an all-too-tempting narrative way out; a convenient resolution to any literarily sticky situations he may write himself into.  It feels too contrived and easy to use the evolution of the mutation for narrative twists.  Instead of character agency and motivation driving the “oh shit” moments of the book… or even giving us solid emotional investment in the mysteries they are following… sudden, inexplicable ‘changes’ in characters (good and bad) seem like half-hearted efforts to inject dread and additional sci fi elements where they are not needed.  Example:  Alicia’s character is isolated through nearly all of the book.  Not a lot of interaction going on, so we throw in some unexplained changes in her mutation.  Now she has something to think about and we can maybe add to the lore and mystery of the virals themselves.  But it was too convenient and not nearly enough payoff for having to follow her on deer hunts and horse rides over bridges.  Same with Amy.  She isn’t really doing anything at all and is stuck, basically, in a convent.  So let’s show how her body starts changing, too.  I’m not saying there isn’t a point to these mutations within the narrative of this book.  It’s just that in the larger mythology it feels like a convenient, standby plot-mover. 

As a Stand-Alone:  This is not, I repeat NOT one of those books in a series that can be read as a stand alone.  Even with Cronin’s clever recapping in the opening pages, there is just no way anyone would realistically be able to follow the narrative of The Twelve without having first read The Passage.  The recap is more a geekgasm and reminder for readers of the first book.  Also, Cronin seems to be relying on the fact that you have already met his characters.  They do not really get heroic re-introductions.  As I said in the above; there are a lot of knowing grunts and nods between characters as they encounter each other.  You either know their history or you don’t.  I would imagine many fresh readers would be at a loss to explain what Amy or Alicia’s “otherness” is all about, so don’t even try.

Final Word:   It just wasn’t good.  In fact, it was disturbing.  Women are portrayed in a seriously limited and stereotypical way – if you pulled your stereotypes from the 1930′s.  There is a whole lot of wandering around in beautifully written landscapes and environments, but not much action.  No virals, no passion, a choppy dropping of storylines, a retread of the narrative from book one and no further character development at all. 

The Amy/Wolgast stuff was good, though.   See, mom, I can be positive.  Worm Out!

 

The Left Hand of Darkness – Ursula K Le Guin

The themes and setting in The Left Hand of Darkness are rife with meaning.  The prose is like a tightly wound ball of fine thread; worth teasing apart, but a single distraction or misplaced tug can destroy the whole web completely.  But putting that aside for a minute… The Worm is struggling with where to put this novel in the personal pantheon of Sci Fi greatness.  We’ll get to the possible meanings and interpretations in a bit – I’m still stuck on… did I like it?  And I don’t know how to answer that one.

The Left Hand of Darkness (1969) comes at you with a lecturing tone and textbook-like exposition very similar to that found in The Mote In God’s Eye by Niven and Pournelle.   It is not, thankfully, as long as that work.  Nor, sadly, does have the same movement.  I’m all for some mildly self-important lecturing on occasion, but I usually like my lecturing to have a more action.  The Left Hand of Darkness is dry and didactic in the way that a lot of Sci Fi from the seventies is.  Authors of that period seemed very swept away by big ideas.  In fact, the biggest of ideas.  And I’m guessing the academic and literary world was finally starting to take science fictions themes seriously as art, right around the time of the women’s’ movement, civil rights, and the energy crisis.  Which may have had the effect of making Sci Fi writers take themselves uber-seriously, too.  It is as if Sci Fi had graduated from the pulpy adolescent fun and high adventure of the 1940′s and 1950′s, and was suddenly seen as serious and adult.  There were expectations.  Marks must be made.  Time to grow up.  Then that adult went to college; burned a draft card; slapped some elbow patches on; grew weird facial hair; fought The Man; and secretly prayed to a unisex God that mom and dad would keep sending tuition checks.  That is not to say the authors themselves were like this… only that Sci Fi as a genre seemed to go through a period of new found self-respect and self-awareness.  Which sort of naturally swung toward up-assed-ness.  (Yeah, fairly certain that is absolutely not a real word.)  What I’m saying is this… The Left Hand of Darkness is great.  But not a whole lot actually happens.  If you recall… 2001: A Space Odyssey had that same feel.

These types of books are not bad, but they should not be instant classics just because they survived the embarrassment of 1970′s America.  These books just undeniably have a feel that is very, very specific to that period in American Sci Fi.  So if that is your thing… you are going to unabashedly love The Left Hand of Darkness.  If it is not your thing… nothing I can say will convince you to read this one.  And I don’t think anybody NEEDS to read it.  You can get your Sci Fi themes elsewhere.  But if you have never read anything from 1970′s American Sci Fi, The Left Hand of Darkness is as good a representative of this era as you will find.  Today’s readership seems more attuned to action, symbolism, and dialogue than in any period previously.  That is probably why it has become so hard to categorize and differentiate between our genres and sub-genres these days.  Regardless of theme or content, style is pretty universal anymore.  We have come to expect a fluidity and movement in nearly all our literature.  There has to be some heavy characterization (usually through dialogue) and we like our messages in the form of visual symbolism and soundbite themes.  The Worm isn’t hating, just observing.  But given this tendency toward the more immediate and accessible in our Sci Fi, it seems inevitable that works like The Left Hand of Darkness are going to recede quickly into the realm of forgotten pioneers.  The work was outstanding for its day and the message still holds up - but the vessel for delivery just doesn’t grab us in the way we like to be grabbed anymore.

That said, The Left Hand of Darkness is an interesting, multi-faceted look at societies and how different philosophical/political ideologies deal with and confront unexpected change.  Vague, I know.  But I feel the need to tread lightly here.  Mostly because I’m assuming a gaggle of wicked smart folks have already dissected this work and overlaid all sorts of import to it.  I’m just me, your humble Worm.  But I’ll tell ya’ what I gleaned from the work… to me it simultaneously examines the ways in which societies accept or reject technology, science, and religion.

There are some serious Christ parallels that can be drawn from this book.  The Envoy from a more evolved position brings a message of acceptance and advancement to societies steeped in tradition and/or political scrabbling.  Though the Envoy tells of wonder and grand ideas, he offers little to no tangible proof, while asking the primitives to take his word on faith.  In fact, that very acceptance is all they need in order to be gifted a place in the majestic realm of Ekumenical space civilization.  Naturally, they wanna’ see the goods before they make the deal and want to see proof of the mother ship.  And round and round we go.  The Prime Minister, Estraven, even fills sort of a disciple/evangelist/martyr role.  Yeah, things get rough for Estraven.

At the same time, the technology The Envoy is offering could represent exactly that; technology.  Perhaps this book is simply exploring ignorance and the tendency for a people to reject what they don’t understand.  Or to attempt to exploit it.

And there are Cold War-esque overtones of national pride and “losing face” on epic scales.

And it clearly examines the role sex and sexual identity influence societal leanings toward war, politics, and productivity.

I could go on and on and never get exactly what Le Guin was striving for.  After reading her Introduction to the book, I don’t think I have to.  The book did make me wonder.  It made me examine my own attitudes and those of people closest to me.  I reckon that’s good enough for a day’s work, no?  But I honestly didn’t have a whole lot of fun reading it.   And that’s okay, too.  You can’t get by on a steady diet of dessert and pasta.  I guess every now and again it’s good to choke down some vegetables.  Thanks to Mary for recommending The Left Hand of Darkness.  I’m glad I didn’t miss it, especially the amazing Introduction.

Now bring on some vampires and zombies!!  Worm Out.

The Merit of Genre

You know how a certain confluence of events can seem like a beacon or pathway laid before you?  Like unconnected, random occurrences lead you like signposts to someplace you were destined to go?  That happened to me over the last few months and, naturally, it took me to a book.  More importantly it took me to an answer I’d felt but could not adequately express.  That answer was to the question of whether genre fiction should be taken seriously by thinking people.  The book that held that answer was The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K. Le Guin.

I had been sampling random podcasts a couple months ago and of the seven I blindly downloaded, two mentioned this book.  It felt odd that people discussing such diverse topics should reference the same work.  Either way, Ursula’s name stuck with me simply because so few women write serious Sci Fi, and fewer receive awards for doing so.  Around this time a co-worker made teasing comments to me about my predilection for “fantasy” reading.  While it is true I’m a fan of genre, it still felt she was being mildly judgmental.  I felt defensive, but not enough to actually defend.  I know the value of good Sci Fi (any good lit, really) and I did not feel the need to launch into a lecture while riding an elevator with a bunch of randoms.  But still…

Enter a used paperback copy of The Left Hand of Darkness which I’d ordered and left stored on my bookshelf, temporarily forgotten.  Then, after reviewing Wolf Hall by Hilary Mantel, a friend told me Ms. Mantel (who’s book I enjoyed) made some incredibly harsh comments about genre writing and dismissed it as not being serious literature.  While I did not read these comments myself, I am familiar with the sentiment.  As are most of us who enjoy our Sci Fi, Fantasy, Western, and other genre formats.  I let it go, but it irked me.

After Wolf Hall I felt a calling back to my home turf… Sci Fi.  Maybe I just needed a radical shift away from Historical Fiction.  Maybe this was also a personal, if utterly pointless, protest against Ms. Mantel’s views.  Either way, it lead me to select Ms. Le Guin’s 1969 Hugo and Nebula Award winning novel.  I plucked it off my bookshelf and there, just waiting for my discovery, was the most eloquent and moving defense of the genre I have ever read.  In the short Introduction by Ms. Le Guin, every reason for Sci Fi’s importance and it’s inherently difficult philosophical challenges became crystalline.

I have not yet read the novel.  I couldn’t even start it until I blurted out this revelation to the world.  If you have ever been frustrated by people looking down their noses at the beloved and well-worn copy of Ender’s Game or Darwin’s Radio, or even Berserker you have sticking out of your bag; sitting on your desk; peeking from beneath your arm… you can tell them to suck it.  Or, more likely, you can just smile and take their misguided condescension in stride.  It will be easier to do once you read Le Guin’s Introduction.  In those concise six pages, she will cement all your deeply held but hard to articulate ideas.

Once you read this Introduction, you won’t even feel the need to correct other people’s misconceptions about the genre.  If anything, it is like breaking our very own Da Vinci Code.  You are already a member of a special and select club – those of us who get it.  Le Guin’s words merely codify and clarify.  But, man, do they give you a lift and a touch of, “Damn!  That’s exactly it!”

My point today?  Simply this… order Le Guin’s book.  Even if you don’t have time to read it – or are not interested in this particular story.  If you are struggling with explaining or defining why Sci Fi is so important to you… or you just want to read a short essay on the subject from a woman with passion and intellect… read the Introduction.  This is already one of my most worthwhile purchases and I have not read even the first page of The Left Hand of Darkness.  That is saying something.

Check out Le Guin’s Intro, you adorable Sci Fi geeks.  It’s worth your time.

Worm Out!

The Passage – Justin Cronin

For the first time in… ever, The Worm finished a novel and immediately wanted to start reading it again.  I’ve reread great books over the years (The Stand, 52, The Stone of Tears, Henry V, etc.) but never have I finished a long epic and immediately HAD to start it again.  If not for my self-imposed reading schedule, I would totally have done just that.

Justin Cronin’s The Passage works from every angle.  It does contain environments, characters, and concepts that are strikingly similar to other post-apocalpytic works.  But, and this is huge, Cronin elevates these ideas and blends them together so logically and truthfully that he creates an experience that is a far superior whole than the sum it’s cool parts.  For example, The Passage owes a huge inspirational and thematic debt to Stephen King’s The Stand.  It does not take a lit genius to recognize this.  But, really, despite the thematic kinship the two novels have, The Passage is it’s own entity.  Imagine somebody had said, “You have a world in which most of the population has been devastated by a man-made virus.  A small band of survivors sets out to create a new world and rediscover figurative and literal humanity.  Now go.”  Okay, now imagine those same instructions given to two very talented authors decades apart.  What you would get are The Stand and The Passage.  I’d say that is a wicked win for readers everywhere.

That Cronin blends facets of other Sci Fi and Fantasy tropes into his work is in no way a shortcut or cop out.  In fact, I enjoyed having these familiar touchstones because it made the world feel more acceptable on some level.  The truth is, the characters in this novel go through a hell of a lot and if not for the familiarity of some of the concepts, I may have felt overwhelmed by it all.  I will point out some of the similarities between Cronin’s novel and other works, not to deride Mr. Cronin at all, but to give you, dear reader, a sense of the awesome that awaits you in The Passage.

The Stand.  Okay, that can’t be a surprise.  The essential structure of the book is very Stand-ish.  Disparate groups and personalities coming together to survive and, maybe, flourish in the post-apocalyptic wasteland.  The biggest Stand-y similarity for me was the way Cronin chose his protagonists.  I won’t spoil anything more than that, but there is a happy similarity between the character and personalities of his lead characters and those King wrote about. 

Next up, I Am LegendThe Passage is ostensibly a vampire novel.  But that would be like saying The Stand is about a virus.  Any tense thriller of this sort requires a monster and Cronin creates a creature that really has no easy comparisons to other baddies.  Visually, though, there is a strong vibe from the critters in I Am Legend.  That’s how I saw ‘em anyhow.  One of the things I loved best about Cronin’s baddies (virals) is the way he imbues them with a sense of logic and movement that feels honest without having to be explained.  Some work went into the development of these creatures and they most definitely are NOT just monster-of-the-week, rubber suited targets for our heroes to impale, eviscerate, and immolate.  There is a lethal beauty in their actions and touch of mystery, too.  Cronin has created, out of whole cloth, a very organic-feeling monster.

Remember The X-Files?  I get a tingling feeling that Cronin does.  And I’m not even talking about the feds v. monsters aspect.  I can’t put my finger on it exactly, but the whole section with Agent Wolgast and Agent Doyle traveling the country had a very Mulder/Scully feel for me.

Bet you didn’t see this one coming… sections of this novel reek of The Green Mile.  Actually, maybe they don’t really reek of it… but there is a whiff.  And I don’t want to explore that too deeply because I have a suspicion that the narrative will drift more that way in the subsequent novel or novels and I’m trying to avoid spoilers.  (Did I mention this is a trilogy?  Yeah, I didn’t now that either before I got heroin-hooked on it.)  But there is some unexpected sympathy that springs up on you in a very Michael Clarke Duncan way during the first third of this novel.  Good stuff, and it is a plot point that gives necessary depth to the plot.  Without this bit, The Passage is just a survivalist action story.  With it, well, shit gets biblical fast.

This next comparison is a stretch, but I felt it and I’m just gonna’ lay it out there.  There is a very exciting scene involving a train and some vamps and I felt for all the world like I was playing Darkwatch on my Xbox.  I’m sure that, if asked, Cronin would site a much more interesting inspiration for that scene.  Maybe a train fascination as a kid?  Maybe a love of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid?  Maybe something from that horrible Steven Segal movie I can’t remember the title of?  But for me, it was Darkwatch all the way.

And here it is… the inescapable comparison that is totally unfair and due strictly to timing and pop culture… but there are seriously Walking Dead-ish scenes here.  Then again, in a world where hordes of baddies have thinned the entire U.S. population and the military failed to stop it – there are going to be spooky ghost towns with overturned tanks.  There will be the obligatory recreation of familiar cities and landmarks, now overgrown and vacant.  So The Passage is in no way derivative of Kirkman’s work – they both just do a really good job of painting with the same terrifying brush.

Finally, I want to acknowledge that some parts of The Passage are similar in narrative style to World War Z.  But I feel bad even saying that.  In WWZ, the style was the story.  It was what set is apart from the others of it’s ilk.  In The Passage, the journal entries, found files, and news bulletin methods of passing information are not gimmicky.  These techniques keep the story moving and allow Cronin to pump out the exposition in varied ways.  A necessary respite from straight prose when you have a novel of this length.  And, hey, people have been using those techniques for ages.  (I started to list a bunch of examples but then realized there were ten or twelve such novels in the guerillabookworm archive alone.  So I think you know what I’m talking about.)

That’s it for literary comparisons.  Next up, I want to explore the craft of Cronin’s writing.  Specifically, I want to look at his structure and talk about the movement of this work.  Not the specific action beats, of which there are a crap ton.  I mean the overall movement.  The Passage reads like music -like maybe a classic rock album by Zeppelin, or the Beatles when they were in their drug phase.  Cronin lulls the reader in, during the first third or so, with street level characters and situations.  Sure, there is creep-out mystery right from the start but it is relatable.  It is day-to-day horrible and terrifying.  And after finishing the book, I must applaud Cronin for doing this.  He drew me in with something I thought I could understand and anticipate.  Then he blew my mind in a thoroughly uncomfortable and ultimately majestic way.

Because at about the 30% mark on the Kindle, Cronin jettisons all our characters.  He time shifts us nearly a hundred years and introduces a swarm of new, nearly indistinguishable people.  The previously familiar tone and setting is gone for good.  A lot of world building and exposition happens.  I’ll admit,  I got nervous.  Why would he do this?  Is this a collaborative novel?  Did Cronin step away – allowing somebody else to take over?  I was flummoxed.  But then something subtle and powerful started to happen.  I was being drawn in to the world of these new characters.  Sure, I still missed Agent Wolgast and Amy and Lacey and all the others… but their memory was starting to fade.  It was being replaced by the worries and grinding existence of Peter, Theo, Alicia, and Caleb.  I did not warm to this world as quickly as I had the first, but I now appreciate the way it made me uncomfortable.  It was almost as if I had to be jarred by the loss of the earlier characters to really feel the hopelessness and sterile sadness of the world that emerged after the virus.  I came to forgive Cronin for the tonal shift in the book.  And then I came to love him when he threaded all his themes and notes into a perfect coalescence in the novel’s climax.  I felt like I had to go through the first two pieces (the pop rock familiar and the grating experimental) in order to really appreciate the sweeping crescendo.

The Passage is a Sci Fi thriller that gradually transforms itself.  It becomes more profound and the ideas get writ large.  Yet it retains an earned humanity in its characters.  Then Cronin goes and ties the whole damn thing together in impossibly unexpected ways, that in hindsight seem so logical and perfect that the story could have only been told as it was.  Damn him.  Him and Hugh Howey.  How do they do it?

Required Gripe:  I am philosophically opposed to unconditional love.  It is far greater to love something despite, or because of, it’s flaws.  I love this novel so much I just had to find one area of weakness to remind me that Cronin, despite his obvious talent, is not perfect.  Yet.

I have to return to the time-shift after the first third.  I felt a little betrayed.  Not just by the loss of characters but also by the loss of a tone and pace I’d become comfortable with.  I think it was necessary and had to be painful.  But that doesn’t mean I had to like it.  During this transition, when Cronin was laying out the rules of the new existence, it also felt like there were a few too many new characters with little to distinguish them.  A built-in difficulty when dealing with a young society founded on a just a few family surnames, but still a tad rough on the reader.  Also, the fact that we switched to the quasi-biblical names of characters.  Other than the linguistically twisty “Wolgast” and the bubbly “Babcock”, most of the other character names were pretty bland.  (Except for the truly unusual ones who, mostly, don’t stick around too long.)  I had some trouble separating my Peter from my Michael and my Alicia from my Sara.  And that is the best I can do.  It’s all I’ve got.  I’ve combed through The Passage and this is all I can come up with to complain about.  Either I’m going soft or Cronin has his shit freaking dialed-in.

Cool Homage Moments: Yes, it is there.  The thing I always subconsciously look for whenever I feel a book is paying homage to Stephen King.  There is the line, near the end, when the author literally says his characters are going to make their stand.  I never know if it is intentional, but I smile every time it happens.  A fairly common phrase, I reckon.  But still.  Let me get my grins where I find them.

Greatest Scenes:  For totally different reasons the best scenes were Lacey hanging clothes on the mountaintop; Carter’s ultimate recollection of his crime; Alicia jumping onto the Humvee; the showdown between Amy and Babcock in the ring; and Wolgast kidknapping Amy from the zoo.  No unifying reason why those particular scenes stick in my mind more than the others, but they do.  And Caleb’s oversized sneakers.

Favorite Characters:  I’d be inclined to say Amy, but in truth, I think she has the potential to be a favorite character.  Right now she is more of a sympathetic vessel.  Wolgast remains my favorite character in The Passage.  Lacey is a close second with Alicia coming slightly ahead of Peter.  Theo is just kind of a puss.  I know he isn’t supposed to be.  He just leaves an Ashley Wilkes taste in my mouth.  (Bam!, lit snobs)

So that’s all I will say about The Passage.  It is a moving, fantastic experience that will probably rank among your favorite reads.  This is one of those books – the kind you will start recommending to friends before you are halfway through it.  And you know what?  It only gets better.  And before even finishing this review, The Worm downloaded the sequel.

Thanks to Aisha Tyler and her Girl On Guy podcast for the recommendation.  I realize that a stand-up raving about a book on a podcast probably shouldn’t qualify it for our Recommendation Only reading list this month… but I am counting it because it’s my blog and I can do what I want.  Worm Out.  Oh, and “all eyes!”

Patient Zero: A Joe Ledger Novel – Jonathan Maberry

Don’t like zombie stories?  Not a big fan of police/military action?  Had enough of terrorists and uber-covert government shenanigans?  First:  What the hell is wrong with you?!  And, second: Read Patient Zero anyhow. 

It has zombies but they are not your typical risen undead.  No, sir.  We’ve got a semi-plausible sci-fi esque reason for our zombification here.  And if that isn’t enough – these are some intentional monsters.  You heard right.  Enter the terrorism angle.  But these are not straightforward religious zealot terrorists either.  Author Jonathan Maberry infuses our baddies with double-dealing, profit motivated psychosis.  Yummy.  But maybe you don’t want a labyrinth of spy craft and geopolitical machinations.  No worries.  Maberry shoves the heart-hammering action down your throat from page one.

Convinced yet?  You should be.  This novel is one hundred percent adrenaline, without being stupid.  Maybe mutated prions aren’t really going to turn our population into cannibalistic rage monsters.  If not, we won’t need to buy into Joe Ledger and his band of badasses.  But it is fun to imagine that if the infected shit hits the fan, Ledger’s Echo Team is going to be there to drop some killing know-how and stoic one-liners on us.  And there is an action genre bonus here, too… many of the kills and take downs of our bitey little baddies are UFC style brawler moves with improvised melee weapons.  It isn’t all overwhelming firepower.  Thanks for that, Jonathan Maberry!

So I know you’re waiting for some in-depth analysis of this novel (or not) but I don’t know how deep I want to go with this one.  Mostly I feel like it will cheapen the awesomeness of Patient Zero.  But The Worm is up to the challenge and here comes an attempt at the egghead stuff:

When Ledger or Church drop some knowledge on us, it is usually the simplistic id-driven “fuck yeah” kind of badassery.  In the hands of a self-aware author like Maberry, it totally works.  However, it must be said that none of the themes in this novel are unique or handled with any true insight.  I mean, this is straight John Wayne/James Bond stuff… but it is handled masterfully well.  A nod to Maberry for including the character of Sanchez as the shrink best friend.  I feel like there was at least a whiff of an attempt to explore the reality of this unreal situation through the character of Sanchez.  But, really, even I wanted to get on with the shootouts and grossouts rather than explore any feelings.  It just doesn’t feel like that kind of book.  (If you DO want that kind of book – where the brute and the sensitive man merge – check out A Nail Through the Heart by Halinan.  He examines vengeance and violence through that kind of lens.)

On to the women in Patient Zero.  There are two, at least.  Both are wicked tough.  One is just plain wicked.  Both are solid, plot-critical characters and I can’t even bring myself to hate on Maberry for essentially writing them as men and then throwing us the bone bone.  (The shortcut definition of a woman… she has, or fantasizes about having, sex with male characters in the book.  That is what makes her different than the boys.)  You know the drill.  Major Courtland is super tough and has ultra-high security clearance.  She is a team leader and Church’s right hand ‘man.’  She is hot and ultra cool.  But there is just ‘something’ about our male lead that is distracting and disturbing.  I know!  It’s his piercing blue eyes that have her forgetting her training, duty, and professionalism.  (I have thrown up a tiny little bit just now.)  At least our female baddie uses her sexuality to warp and control dudes.  I’m not sure if that makes the feminist in me feel better or worse.  Know what?  I don’t really care.  Again, it’s not that kind of book.  Read Parable of the Sower or The Unit if you want depictions of strong, deep women.

The science.  Wow.  Patient Zero gives us a few crumbs of science along the first half of the journey and then Wham! we get the long speech by Dr. Hu… just in case you haven’t been following along.  Tough for me to say if this exposition was necessary.  But I’m a part-time science nerd and was following along nicely without it.  I think, objectively speaking, it was probably a nice spot for a reboot to keep everybody on board before things go batshit nutty after that.  The prion bit is fun (and kinda’ terrifying) but the pathogen-as-trigger for zombies isn’t really new.  Then again, Maberry acknowledges that in a few places and by giving props to 28 Days and it’s sequel, he gets a squirrely sort of pass from The Worm.

Lastly, I want to examine the zombie element in Patient Zero.  For me, zombies are always scary because they represent the mindless mob.  The unstoppable, single-purpose, slow moving, inexorable creep of the insipid. (I know, I said something similar about TLC’s Here Comes Honey Boo Boo.)  With Patient Zero, I’m inclined to say it is not a zombie story at all.  Yes, technically, there are undead monsters rampaging and trying to bite our heroes, but still.  The focus and pacing of this story, plus the lack of symbolism in the zombies themselves, really makes it feel more like a sci fi action thriller.  And that is so totally a rad thing.  But a zombie tale it is not.

Creepiest Scene:  The crab plant with the shoes and toys and cell phones strewn about.  Grungy smudges, wispy fog, welded doors.  Nightmare fuel, for sure.

Best Character:  I am going to go with Mr. Church.  Everybody is pretty great, but Church intrigues me.  Who doesn’t like a mystery?  And who doesn’t fantasize about having his kind of juice?

Needs A Killing:  If you watch the Walking Dead you probably feel me when I say that for many hours I sat in front of my television cheering for the Walkers to eat Lori.  I’m not proud of this and I don’t normally cheer for the bad guys.  But Lori was so annoying and so… asking for it!… that I would consistently and boisterously encourage the biters to get her.  I bring this up simply to say… The Vice President’s Wife.  That’s all.  Just keeping it real.

Nitpicking:  I wouldn’t be The Worm if I didn’t call Mr. Maberry out on one very minor quirk in the text of Patient Zero.  Not sure if it is just editing oversight, but I’m guessing it is.  There is a scene toward the end of the novel in which Ledger explains to Grace what the government response to the disaster will be, and then about one page later he gets the same information from Mr. Church and it is a word-for-word recreation.  I don’t know if those scenes were switched up for pacing issues or if Maberry had written the dialog and there was some change in who would deliver it.  I mention this only because this book is pretty tightly edited and formatted.  (Around the sixty percent mark I did start to notice a few dropped words but nothing that really disrupted the flow of the narrative.)  And so a gaff like this one really stood out to me and made me wonder if it was self-published.  Know what?  If this was done on a relative shoe-string budget and/or is completely creator owned… then I am even more impressed with the novel.  If not, then somebody who is getting a regular paycheck needs a talking-to.  A book of this quality doesn’t deserve that type of sloppy oversight.

The Last World:  Patient Zero is a creepy action thriller with lots of guns, gadgets, and kaboom.  And blood.  Did I mention the blood?  It is also full of good times, gross outs and hero moments.  Thanks to Matt in Chicago for recommending this one.  Good call.  I had a blast!  Worm Out!

**Note:  A quick search after reading Patient Zero indicates this book is NOT self-published.  (St. Martin’s Press, I think?)  Anyhow, I’m still not savvy in the ways of ebook publishing and maybe many of the typos or dropped words can be credited to the transfer/conversion process.  Dunno’.  The gaff on the repeated dialog still irks a bit, though.  Editors get paid, right?