Lotus Blue by Cat Sparks

Confession time: I've read a lot of teen fiction. I'm pretty sure by now I could identify it blind-folded and spun in a circle.

And I still have no idea if Lotus Blue is teen fiction or not.

It's a dystopian sci-fi novel by Cat Sparks, which combines the advanced tech and rich world-building of Dune with the post-apocalyptic nightmare of the Max Max movies. It's set in futuristic Australia, after world-wide war has broken civilisation down to chaotic remnants. The main character Star and her sister Nene live as nomadic traders, scraping a dangerous living on the Sand Road. But after a disastrous event, Star discovers a terrible secret and is forced into confrontation with the forces that once shattered humanity.

This is one of those books that straddles the boundary of target audiences. In some ways it's geared toward the teenage girl readership, as as it follows a young woman's voyage of self-discovery.  And while there's a lot death, it never crosses the line into sensationalizing it.

However I'd hesitate to call it teen fiction due to the nasty edge of realism. Decisions have dire consequences and there's no brooding bad boy lurking conveniently in the background to swoop in and save Star. Love triangles are also mercifully lacking. In fact -  interestingly - sexuality is barely alluded to, possibly because the characters have so many other urgent priorities, like not dying. Not-dying is very important to them.

I should also note that Star is much less annoying than your average teen protagonist. Yes, she makes foolish decisions the reader can see coming a mile away. No, she never gets away with it. In fact, her entire character arc is about learning practicality. Bad things happen, some dreams won't come true, not all friends can be relied on, and denial won't change anything.

This development is contrasted with her enemies, who don't grow at all and are arguably responsible for nearly everything that goes wrong due to their inability to perceive anything except what they want to see. The most destructive thing in this world apparently isn't the pure unrelenting malice of rogue AI but the foolishness and willful ignorance of humanity. You don't have to be a moustache-twirling villain to end the world. You just need to be the dumbass that presses the button labelled 'don't press this'.

It's a melancholy outlook, but I liked it. Maybe Star was never going to reach for the sky or be saved by a white knight on a mighty steed, but by the end she could damn well survive whatever horrible trauma life threw at her and keep on trucking (Heh, trucking. That's a little black comedy joke you'll only get after Chapter Two).

Final Verdict: Good. If you're looking for something in the vein of Paolo Bacigalupi's Ship Breaker, I'd definitely recommend this.

"No matter what the Road threw at them, Nene was always

steadfast in her hope. Nene's hope was wearing Star to the bone."

The Dark Griffin by KJ Taylor

The theme of racism has been around a long time in fantasy. It was there when Lord of the Rings set the stage for the genre and has been explored again and again by its successors in various guises.

Few, however, tackle it with such depressing accuracy as KJ Taylor's The Dark Griffin.

The main character Arren is what's called a blackrobe; a derogatory term for a race of enslaved humans. He's unusually lucky because he's also the chosen companion of a Griffin, which makes him aristocracy despite his origins. For someone like him, he's at the best place he could possibly be. So naturally, after a terrible accident, there is nowhere to go but down.

I'll be honest - this was a tough read for me. It holds no punches, exploring  how poisonous internalized racism is and how bigotry becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. Several times I had to put the book down and go look at a sunset or watch cat videos.

I think what made it worse is that there's no traditional villain. Everyone is simply doing what they believe is best. It's like a Greek tragedy, except that the fatal flaw doesn't lie within the protagonists but the culture around them. Nor are these problems treated as a purely human failing, which would have been an easy out for the author to take. The Griffins are entirely complicit in this system.

It's a different twist on Mercedes Lackey's Valdemar series, where rulership is restricted to partnerships with mystical bond animals. But unlike the Heralds' Companions, the Griffins do not come with an omniscient morality licence and choose their partners for reasons just as noble or petty or biased as any human. Which works out exactly as well as you'd expect in the long run.

If you don't mind bleak tragedy, The Dark Griffin makes for a pretty interesting read. Taylor dives head-first into a heavy topic and for the most part she handles it well. Her Achilles heel is characterization, particularly in regards to Arren who remains something of a cipher despite him being the main protagonist. We never get much of a sense of his personality or disposition, outside his desperation to reclaim his old status.

Of course, as the first book in a trilogy, there's still plenty of room for growth.

Final Verdict: Good. With a better developed protagonist I'd have said Awesome.

"And places like this are shrinking. Humans always want more land. Soon there will be nowhere left for you or your kind."

Treason Keep by Jennifer Fallon

I've been pretty harsh to Medalon in the past. Mostly due to the handling of the incest plotline (I don't care if you're not genetically related, if you're raised together you're still siblings and it's still weird).

However, I have misjudged other authors on one bad book, so this year I decided to give Fallon a second chance and picked up the sequel Treason Keep at Bookfest. 

And I'm glad I did. While Treason Keep won't ever be in my top-ten list, I was absolutely smitten with one new character.

Princess Arina.

She's royalty from an oceanic culture reluctantly married off to a foreign zealot prince. Finding herself trapped in a very delicate political position, she must fight to maintain her autonomy during a time of war and murderous politics. Unfortunately there's no shortage of interested parties who wish to exploit her. 

What I like about Arina is that she's filled with contradictions: she's a spoilt brat, but sharply intelligent. She's sheltered, but politically astute. Manipulative, but emotionally vulnerable. All of these things describe her, yet none of them encompasses her fully. She's that rare gem; a well rounded character. If you ever read Liveship Traders and was even passingly fond of Malta, you will love Arina.

The other characters and storylines, I could take or leave. I'm not even remotely invested in R'shiel, and I keep mixing up Tarja and Brak. Every time they're onscreen (onpage?) I found myself desperately bored until Arina came back.

While I still can't recommend Meladon on its own merits, I will recommend it as backstory to Treason Keep which I do recommend wholeheartedly. If I don't see more of Arina in the next book, I will be severely disappointed.

Final Verdict: Good. Has a way to go before I'd call it awesome, but Arina represents a big step in the right direction.

"I know the gods exist, whether I believe them 
worth worshiping is an entirely different matter."

The Changeling Detective by Phillip Berrie

If you're looking for something short and sweet in urban fantasy, The Changeling Detective by Phillip Berrie might be just up your alley.

It starts off seemingly grounded in science fiction, with a private detective John who is a shapeshifter and - as far as he knows - the only one of his kind. When a seemingly harmless job takes a murderous turn, he must use all his abilities to survive.

This novella bolts out of the gate and never slows down. Whether it's an overzealous bodyguard or corrupt cops, there always seems to be someone in John's face. It reminded me of Harry Dresden how the character keeps ricocheting from disaster to disaster, accumulating a truly astounding number of damage points. This kept the pages turning even when the characters weren't particularly deep or complex.

Which, unfortunately, leads into the story's biggest weakness for me. Despite being an interesting premise, John is a rather blandly heroic character, never giving the reader any real sense of what he wants beyond the short-term. Events happen, he responds, and by the end of the book he hasn't grown or changed in any significant way. Even his female love interest/sidekick Ruth is more developed because she at least has a goal she works toward.

It's a shame, because there's several interesting directions he could have gone. Had his amoral traits been more emphasized and his goal been to return to his life as he likes it (drinking, spying on people, sleeping with hot bartenders...) that would have given him a place to grow from. In fact, the horror of his potential future could have been a real wake-up call as he was confronted what he could become.

Or if the entire point is that his moral code is not changed by his origins, Berrie could have pushed the tragedy and isolation of John's life a lot more. The material is there already. There's no one John can be truly honest with and his identification with X-Men comics suggests that he too feels like an outcast. And that in turn would have given more weight to his attachment to Ruth.

On a more positive note, the villain was excellent. Newman is a disturbingly unpredictable antagonist. Swinging between wanton cruelty and cold practicality, his goals remain opaquely inhuman for most of the book. I was utterly invested in the characters' efforts to escape him, as I'd be running like hell if he were after me too.

There wasn't much in the way of world-building, but that worked in this instance as half the tension comes from not understanding is going on. The book ends on a cautiously optimistic note, leaving just enough threads dangling for a sequel.

Final Score: Good. I'd have liked it to be longer, but as a tasty introduction to a series it does exactly what it's supposed to. You can also check out the author's website here for free samples of his other work.

"I felt like an actor who'd missed an important rehearsal; 

someone had definitely changed the script on me."

Goldenhand by Garth Nix

The Superman of the Old Kingdom. 
Awesome powers. Maybe a little bland?

Garth Nix's latest book Goldenhand is difficult to review.

On the one hand, it has well-rounded characters, expands on the world-building of the Old Kingdom series, and ties up loose ends from previous books. I feel comfortable recommending it, both as a book and as appropriate reading material for teenagers.

However because its predecessors were so incredible, it suffers by comparison. Sabriel was a brilliant immersion into a dark world, Lirael was about living up to the demands of legacy, and Clariel was the tragedy of a young woman crushed by an unsympathetic culture. Whereas it's hard to say with Goldenhand because it never settles on any particular theme.

It has two storylines running side by side; Nick and Lirael's quest to understand Nick's abnormal magic, and new character Ferin's desperate journey to deliver a message to the Abhorsen. Both are good stories in their own right. Nick and Lirael's awkward romance was an entertaining exploration of two cultures while Ferin's quest was an intense race for time. But their different themes never quite form a coherent whole, leaving the book with a haphazard feeling. As much as I hate to say it, Lirael's storyline should have been shelved for a later installation and the focus shifted entirely to newcomer Ferin.

Why Ferin you ask? Because she has two things Lirael doesn't.

No powers. Totally kickass.
Basically the Batman
of the Old Kingdom Series.

First, she offers a perspective we've never seen before. Her culture uses Free Magic rather than Charter and Ferin herself is not magical in any way. She's not a Seer or Builder or Abhorsen, just superbly well-trained in survival. Which makes her job that much harder when she's trying to deliver a message to her sworn enemy...in a land where the dead walk...while wounded...being pursued by a relentless enemy...and she does it all without a single solitary second of angst! That's a thousand times more exciting than Lirael and Nick's stilted courtship.

Secondly, Ferin is a foil to the villain. Like Clorr's former self, she was forced into a role she didn't want and that would ultimately have destroyed her. Given Clorr's hand in her suffering, there's also an underlying theme of cyclical abuse just waiting to be tapped. A showdown between the two of them would have carried so much emotional weight - far more than Lireal's vague, well-meaning sympathy.

As much as I love Lirael, this story should have belonged to Ferin. It would just be admitting what's already apparent, because Ferin completely steals the show. She's a fantastic character that could easily carry her own book and hopefully will get the chance oneday.

Regarding the villain Clorr, I don't entirely approve of the series' handling of her (making the only asexual a tragic villain is supremely dodgy) but I'm saving it for another day because I only have so much time to commit to this post. Suffice to say, I appreciate that she was such a well-rounded character, but felt Nix unintentionally fell back on unpleasant storytelling tropes.

I guess my feelings for Goldenhand are the same; I'm of two minds. While its various elements never quite gel together satisfactorily, each element on its own is excellent. Had the book focused on a single story-line and character, I'd be rating it much higher. As is, I recommend Goldenhand purely for fans of the original series. Which is everyone, right?

Shattered Court by MJ Scott

The light, fluffy book somehow more
pessimistic about gender roles than the high
octane nightmare fuel that is Dark Jewels. 

My latest library jaunt brought me Shattered Court, a high fantasy love story by Melbourne writer MJ Scott. This book was a pleasant surprise for me. Despite being heavy on the romance - and you know my feelings on romance - it had some interesting ideas.

It follows the adventures of Lady Sophia Kendall, a royal witch on the verge of inheriting the hereditary magic that will determine her future. However an unforeseen calamity sends her life off-course and her unnatural power makes her an unwilling pawn in court politics. With the help of royal guard Cameron Mackenzie she must navigate the dangerous undercurrents of royalty and religion.

Although much lighter and fluffier, Shattered Court has a lot in common with Anne Bishop's Dark Jewels series. Both depict cultures centred around women whose magic performs a vital function. In Dark Jewels a female-only caste called queens have the ability to rejuvenate the land, while in Shattered Court royal witches commit their magic to the protection of the land. But the conclusions each writer reaches are different.

Where queens enjoy nearly unchallenged dominance, royal witches can't even decide who they marry. In fact their magic makes them akin to valuable livestock, traded off to increase the status of whatever noble is currently in favor. Given the fact they once were very powerful, you can make a pretty good case for MJ Scott depicting the logical outcome of a society like Dark Jewels.

However, on closer inspection a key difference between the two roles emerges: the element of choice.

Given Anglion's situation, maybe this is why 
the Blood are so gung-ho about preserving 
female power?

Whatever other issues I may have with the Dark Jewels, it's fair to say that the characters have a fair range of options. Being born into a queen doesn't mean you have to perform the duties of one. There's even some leeway with gender roles, as women can serve in courts and men can rule in certain circumstances.

Contrast that to Shattered Court, where royal witches have no choice at all in their duties. They undergo a ritual to bind their magic the minute they turn eighteen, information is edited to hide the ritual's true significance, and the binding itself is permanent. Unlike queens, who are only temporarily inconvenienced by rejuvenating the land, it's implied that royal witches never regain their full strength.

Given this difference, Shattered Court isn't so much a deconstruction of Dark Jewels as a 'for want of a nail'. The point is that while the abilities of a certain class might be valuable, that alone won't ensure they're valued as people. You also have to ensure informed consent in the performance of those abilities. To go for the obvious real-life connection, childbirth is an essential female-specific role but women haven't always had control over the process.

Maybe I'm over-analyzing (fine, definitely over-analyzing), but the world-building kept me reading long past my usual threshold for romance. It was a very easy read and the characters were likable. I was particularly intrigued by the Princess Eloisa who played her cards very close to the chest, making it impossible to tell if she was an ally or an enemy. Personally I hope she arranged everything, because that would make her a master manipulator on the level of Nick Fury.

Shattered Court might appear like harmless fluff, but it's smarter than it seems, and doesn't outstay its welcome. It ends on the perfect note to leave you hungry for more.

A Dark Winter by Dave Luckett

In hindsight, he probably shouldn't
have laughed at the Prince. 

A Dark Winter by Dave Luckett is one I've mentioned before. It was a young adult novel released in 1998 that won an Aurelis award and was nominated for another. It distinguished itself from its peers with a business-like approach to swords-and-sorcery.

Take its approach to characters for example. The typical hero is usually someone that initially appears unimportant (like Frodo, Rand Al'Thor, or Harry Potter), but is eventually revealed to be "the most talented, most interesting and most extraordinary person in the universe", to borrow a phrase. And there's a reason for that; being special is a powerful fantasy. People (especially teenagers) want to identify with Captain America kicking ass, not the Shield agents cleaning up after him.

But the protagonist of A Dark Winter starts out ordinary and stays ordinary. Noble blood is never revealed, nor is a gift for magic, nor a convenient prophecy. Willan is just a guardsman who insulted the wrong noble and was sent on a dangerous journey to the frontlines of a magical war.

This could have easily backfired into boring, but Willan's very ordinariness is what injects tension into the story. It feels like here's a real chance he might die. Add in his cynicism and crisp outlines of violence, and we have a swift-moving story about ordinary people existing in a world of magic. If they're skilled, careful and lucky, they might survive the monsters and zombies long enough to reach the hordes of goblin soldiers.

Willan's not the only one either. All the characters feel as if they're at sea in a world beyond their control. Silvus is haunted by a gift he doesn't want, Ruane is tangled in the schemes of his political rival, and Hrudis is caught in a cruel struggle where even her enemies are brainwashed victims. In a very real way it's a deconstruction of high fantasy's obsession with magic and war. They're not glorious or awe-worthy. They're a pain in the ass at best, and ugly death at worst.

A Dark Winter is a grounded, surprisingly logical story set in a fantastical world. Ultimately perhaps that's why it wasn't as popular as it deserved; it's a little too grounded in reality while being constrained by its target audience (Think Game of Thrones without the carnage and sex). However it's still a great book for teenagers and won't shame an adult to read. I'm certainly going to read the sequels.

City of Light by Keri Arthur

As a rule, I steer clear of Keri Arthur's work. Not because it isn't good (it is), but because it leans too far into paranormal romance territory for my tastes. I like my action bloodier and my romance more subdued.

But her recent novel, City of Light, is like she psychically sensed all my reservations and wrote a 300 page book just to prove me wrong. 

It's set in a future dystopia after humanity lost a war with shapeshifters (thus combining my two favorite things; magic and science fiction). Life is hard on everyone, but especially Tiger, a genetically engineered supersoldier that miraculously survived the purge of her kind after the war. She spends her time hiding out in an old lab and talking to ghosts, until she rescues two living people and is reluctantly drawn into a mystery of disappearing children and illegal experimentation.

What's interesting about Tiger is that she exists so much in her head. Being discovered as dechet is a death sentence so she spends most of her time calculating who to lie to and what to lie about. It makes the outside world so exhausting it's completely understandable why Tiger would prefer to be alone and not deal with that rig-moral.

The real surprise is that she's not more introverted and bitter than she is. What happened to her kind is horrifying, especially when they were the most blameless faction in the war. They were exploited by humans, murdered by the shapeshifters, and depicted as monsters by history.  It's the kind of horrendous injustice that can only be reflected by real life and Tiger is way too calm and philosophical about it.

To kill or not to kill Jonas.
That is the question. 

For example, there is that gem of a moment where potential love-interest Jonas first refuses to believe in the dechet massacres, then says it was the only way to get rid of the "perversion". And he throws it in the face of a woman he suspects to be a survivor. If Tiger had decided to throw Jonas to the vampire horde there and then, I'd have held her coat. I didn't hate even Branna this much because at least Branna was upfront about wanting to kill Tiger. Jonas' words are something more insidious.

I will say this though - Tiger doesn't turn into a puddle of goo when Jonas softens toward her. She correctly perceives that his shift in attitude isn't a change of opinion toward her kind, just a re-evaluation of how valuable her skill-set is. Like her human masters before him, he wants to use her. And she is not afraid to tell him and his asshole friends to eat a dick.

Slow. Fucking. Clap.

I really hope that she doesn't backslide in the next novel, because it is incredibly satisfying to see a protagonist stick to her guns. If Jonas does become a love interest in Winter Halo, he'd better do some damn character development first.

Stormlord Rising by Glenda Larke

Second novels are usually when everything starts coming together, and we start to see the shape of what's to come.Stormlord Rising is the sequel to The Last Stormlord, and second in the Watergivers trilogy.

Here we see Jasper (formerly Shale) begin to be a player in politics instead of the pawn. Taquar tries to control him, but that's a little difficult when his entire position depends on Jasper's existence and he doesn't have anything that he can threaten to bring him in line. That, and Jasper really hates him. For a supposedly brilliant man, Taquar seems to be pretty blind about how to inspire loyalty in others or recognizing when someone hates him more than they fear him.

Even more interesting is Terelle, who makes the journey across the Salt with her great-grandfather toward Khromatis, and in doing so learns some startling facts about the history of Watergivers. That, combined with the tension between Shale and the new Lord Gold indicates that there may be a religious crisis in this world's future, like they didn't have enough going on.

While I'm on the topic, I have to say that I really enjoy Terelle's water-painting powers. It's different from the Watergivers; subtle, nearly invisible to the people around them, but potentially even more devastating than the Storm Lord. Also, there's a lovely visual of her 'shuffling images' within her paintings. She is the character I'm most interested in, and I hope to see more of Khromatis in the next book.

Meanwhile, the Rainlord Ryka has been captured by the Reduners and must make horrible compromises to survive. I'm not usually a fan of the 'captor wants a woman who will stand up to him rather than a submissive slave' trope but in this instance, considering the history and twisted psychology of Ravard, it works. It's also satisfying to see that the book doesn't condemn Ryka for her choices, or romanticize her situation. It makes no bones about the fact that if Ryka slips up, Ravard will kill her.

The final battle felt a little ant-climactic, but that was fine, seeing as everything was clearly being set up for the third book. There's enough mysteries left unsolved and enough confrontations left unfinished that there will be plenty of material to work with. The action was imaginative, using the powers of the Watergivers without forgetting their limits, and the characters all had well-developed motivations and goals. With the possible exception of Senya, who is meant to be spoiled and irritating anyway.

I'd recommend this for teenagers and up. There's violence, particularly in how the Watergivers use their powers in battle, and there's a lot of sex with questionable consent, including but not limited to Ryka and Ravard. It's fairly easy to find in Australian bookstores - I got my copy from a clearance outlet - but it's also available in electronic form from Amazon.com. For physical copies, try the following websites:
* Booktopia
* World of Books (second-hand website)
* AbeBooks (second-hand website)

"For the first time in her life, she was aware of herself as a being of water. For the first time, she felt herself, her connections, her place in the world, her desires."

The Art of Arrow Cutting by Stephen Dedman (or six degrees of separation from awesome writers!)

They say everyone in the world is connected to everyone else by six degrees of separation. I discovered how true this was when my mum casually mentioned she'd gone to primary school with a writer, Stephen Dedman.

So I got curious and went hunting on the internet, where I found he'd written quite a bit. I only bought one, The Art of Arrow Cutting, but it was a good read. Well done, mum's school friend. Well done.

The premise is that the main character 'Mage' (yeah, not joking) screws himself over by performing a good deed. He buys a bus ticket for a girl in need and she, in true fairy tale fashion, returns the favor with the gift of a magic key. Not that she tells him it's magic, but he figures it out once people start trying to kill him for it. (Thus the screwing over part.  You'd think a gift card would probably have sufficed.) He sets out to find her and hopefully figure out what the hell is going on.

I was puzzled a bit by it being set in America, as it was the kind of story that could really be set anywhere. Probably trying to expand the target audience. But the contrived coincidence of fantasy that usually annoys me - the right people showing up at the right moment with the right abilities - doesn't apply here. Yes, Mage conveniently gets exactly what he needs at any given time, but it's justified in a way that ties it into the larger plot.

Mage himself is a chivalrous pervert with an extremely slashy vibe with his stuntman friend Takumo, who is the most competent, badass sidekick anyone could ever ask for. Batman would kick Robin to the curb if he saw this guy's moves. Their ally, the down-to-earth lawyer Kelly, is a perfect example of how to include female characters in a male-dominated narrative. She didn't get involved because she couldn't resist Mage's magic dick (although technically, I suppose his dick could be magic) but because of spoilery reasons I won't get into. Basically she had a motivation and a useful role that wasn't love interest. Other writers take note.

The narrative is fast-paced, the action clear and to the point. Lets say I never got bored with this story. Occasionally the characters would blurt out a lot of exposition about mythology that even I couldn't spit out at a moment's notice (and I spent a lot of my childhood in libraries memorising mythology books) but it was always relevant to the plot, with later pay-off. I particularly liked that Mage thought outside the box to come up with surprising but logical ways to utilise his new powers.

I'd recommend this to urban-fantasy readers who want a supernatural mystery. If you like Harry Dresden, you'll enjoy this as well. There is violence and sex, but nothing too gory, so I think it would be appropriate for older teenagers and above. It can be found on Amazon in paperback and the Australian Amazon in electronic form.

And just to be different this week, I'll finish with a great and wise quote from the book:

"Most of us aren't equipped to handle miracles, man. I'm not sure that I am, not without being seriously stoned." - Takumo

Update on Jupiter: Illusions of Faith

I've just realised (nearly three weeks later - my bad!) that I never mentioned what came of my review on Jupiter:Illusions of Faith by Kynan Waterford. Hold onto your seat, because it's totally exciting.

Everyone holding on? Brace yourselves...

Kynan Waterford contacted me!

(crickets chirping)

Shut up, it's totally exciting. He explained one of the aspects of the novel that bugged me. If you've read the review, you'll know that I had a teeny-tiny baby bitchfest about Garen and Leisa's relationship. Mostly about how the love-at-first-sight thing was not an adequate explanation for Garen's sudden outburst of human emotion, etc, etc. (Yes, I have a thing against romance; you know this about me already) Kynan explained the sudden change in Garen.

If you haven't read the novel, please note there are *SPOILERS* below. Read ahead at your peril.  

Apparently the reason for Garen's sudden attraction to Leisa was less about her and more about the fact he was no longer accompanied by his heavangel Kari, who was the one responsible for blocking his emotions all this time. No Kari = Garen acting like an actual person. Seeing as Garen had been whining about Kari's absence during the entire novel, and Kari had a good old-fashioned 'I have you now my pretty' speech at the end, I was somewhat mortified to have this pointed out to me. Usually I'm the person who sees things coming three plot points away!

Here is the passage from what Kynan told me:

"Until he is captured, Garen is almost always in the presence of his heavangel mentor, Kari, who has been 'saving' Garen from his emotions (or stealing them, depending on your viewpoint). This allows him to do the nasty things he does and keeps him from being distracted from his mission. However, when he inserts Kari into the Golgotha's communication network (before he is captured), he is separated from his heavangel mentor for the first time in a long time. This means Kari is not around to prevent Garen from feeling emotion, and hence, why an otherwise fairly tame encounter with Leisa, someone he becomes interested in, has such a profound effect on him."

So there it is. Definitive proof that even someone as awesome as me can get things wrong. It's hard to believe, I know, but there it is.

(And many thanks to my lovely housemate Ian who was nice enough to proof-read this post for me and caught several embarrassing spelling mistakes.)

Jupiter: Illusions of Faith by Kynan Waterford

First off, let me say this off my chest: Supanova is awesome.

I went last weekend not really expecting it to be very good (the last few years were pretty dull) and ended up doing half my Christmas shopping and picking up a tonne of indie books from local authors. I don't know whether my tastes have changed or there was a different crew this time, but this year Supanova got fun again.

Therefore it looks like I'm going to be reviewing a bunch of indie books over the next few weeks. I'll get started right now with Jupiter:Illusions of Faith by Kynan Waterford.

This is the first book of the System series, which apparently will have nine books, each one based around a different planet in our solar system. Each book will work as a stand-alone, so you won't need to read the whole series to understand what's going on.

On Jupiter, energy is harvested using a process that is claimed to be deadly to the world's native inhabitants. The problem is that no one can agree if the inhabitants are real or a hallucination. The main character, Garen, has dedicated his life to the fervent belief that they are real. During an escape from custody, a fleeting encounter with a third-class woman Leisa will change both their lives - and his mission - forever.

This is hard-core science fiction, which I don't usually get into, but I actually quite enjoyed this book. It was fast-paced, the tech talk was just enough to get across the information I needed without bogging down the text, and the characters faced genuinely difficult decisions and conflicts. One of the big questions posed is whether Garen is a freedom-fighter or a terrorist. You could argue both ways, and the answer for me probably lies somewhere in the middle. It makes him a compelling character to read because you're never quite sure about him.

Leisa, the other main point-of-view character, holds up her end of the narration extremely well. I think I connected better with her because she wasn't obsessed with the cause like Garen. She was just an ordinary person trying to survive the crap getting thrown her way. Her storyline also centered around all these ideas of agency and identity, which came with a good strong dose of body horror. Be warned; this book borders on gruesome at times, and other times waltzes across said border into outright nightmare fuel. (That's not a criticism, btw).

I did have an issue with Garen and Leisa's relationship, which was a shame because the plot hinges on it. The way I understood it, Garen's difficulty connecting with people is a physical problem due to... spoilery stuff. It's not that he won't, or isn't used to it, or is suppressing something; he physically cannot make that chemical leap in his neurons that makes love happen. And yet half an hour with Leisa is enough to overcome it. Don't get me wrong, I liked both characters. They were smart and decisive, and did what they had to in order to survive. I just needed a bit more explanation as to why she could have this effect on him and no one else.

Other than that, this was a good read; an exciting action-adventure story with romance, imaginative futuristic technology and some challenging questions at the core. Definitely a good choice for the first indie book from the pile on my floor.

It can be found at Amazon.com in electronic form, or hard copies ordered from the author's website.

The Last Stormlord by Glenda Larke

I've been asked before why I read speculative fiction. It's not set in the real world, so it's not making a statement about real situations.

I'd argue that. Speculative fiction, I think, tells you a lot. It tells you what issues were important to the author and audience at the time. Even the most escapist of high fantasy can give you an idea of a culture's core values and sometimes in a less politically charged way than other forms of fiction.

It's why I like looking at Australian high fantasy, for insight on my own particular culture. Admittedly, that gives some books pretty messed up implications (we'll get to Sara Douglas' Axis trilogy in good time) but Glenda Larke's The Last Stormlord is a good example of world-building reflecting real-world issues.

In this world, the people live in desert cities and are utterly reliant on their aristocracy's power to provide water. Some of the aristocracy called Reeves are sensitive to where water is while others called Rainlords can actively manipulate it. The most powerful is the Stormlord, who can summon storms to provide rain to the whole desert. So you can see why they'd be so revered, and why revolution is nearly unheard of. This aristocracy is not just important to this culture, they're essential to its survival.

Unfortunately the current Stormlord is old and dying, and no successor has been born strong enough to take his place. To make matters worse there's been a number of accidental deaths among the next generation of Rainlords, so there's not nearly as many as there should be. Desperate, the Rainlords begin searching the lower classes for potentials they might have missed or overlooked.

What I love about this book is that it makes fantastical leaps in the right places, but also falls back on cold hard reality. The ability to manipulate water is fantastic and doesn't need justifying. It's magic; just accept that it works. However, the implications are worked out in precise, ruthless detail. The Stormlord might have saved their society, but it also allowed them to grow far beyond the numbers that could be sustained without him. To go back to the time of 'random rain' as the characters put it would mean only being able to support one in twenty people. Everyone else would either die or  have to go elsewhere.

It's also a fairly on-the-nose analogy for technology and links in to what I was saying about cultural values. Australia in its natural state simply cannot support the numbers it now holds. As a very dry continent, technology is what allows us to prosper, and while not so precariously dependent on a single person as in The Last Stormlord, if we did lose that technology we'd be facing the exact same problem of water shortage. You only need to look at the drought problems with farmers right now to know how serious it can get.

The characters themselves start off unimpressive, but quickly grow on you. There's several points of view, each one representing a different position. So we not only see the pressure on the upper classes to produce new Rainlords and to bring in water, we also see the effect of the shortages on the lower classes and the harsh decisions of the people who choose to live outside the cities. This widespread narrative viewpoint gives the novel more urgency than Dune, a work it's faintly reminiscent of. While Dune was also the story of a desert society and a boy's rise to greatness, The Last Stormlord is less about justice and more about survival.

Altogether this is a great novel with a gorgeously complex culture built on a relatively simple premise. The characters are well-rounded, their motives clear and realistic (or as realistic as they get in high fantasy). Relevant questions are introduced about class division and distribution of resources, and never offers platitudes as answers. I'd give it a four out of five stars and strongly recommend it.

It can be found electronically on Amazon.com (see the link above) and also on Booktopia in paperback. It's first of a trilogy, so I will be reviewing the second book soon.

The Innocent Mage by Karen Miller

Because I just started Innocence Lost, I decided to review the first book of the series The Innocent Mage. 

The Innocent Mage takes place in a kingdom protected from the horrific outside world by a magical wall. To protect this wall, magic is forbidden to all but to a minority upper class. A young fisherman accidentally befriends Prince Gar and becomes a reluctant witness to the politics surrounding this policy. 

Because this is the first book in the series (the prequel Blight of Mages is set several thousand years prior, but isn't required reading) the focus is on set up. Miller explores how the use of magic is regulated; who should use it, who should not, and the consequences if these two categories ever overlap. Because make no mistake, your relationship with magic is everything in this world. Even those forbidden to wield it, like the main character Asher, are still protected by the magically sustained wall. 

There isn't much action (though I have the feeling this will change in the sequel) but there is tension and fatal consequences to decisions. It feels like Robin Hobb's Assassin's Apprentice, where the focus is on where the main character sits in a tangled web of allegiances. Innocence is also a recurring theme. Both Gar and Asher could arguably be called the titular 'innocent mage', as both of them are being manipulated from various sides toward both benign and malicious goals. The consequences of innocence are explored, from the kingdom that exists in blissful ignorance of the horrors outside its borders, to the sheltered princess unable to perceive the hurt she's doing to her brother, to the well-meaning mage who accidentally invites an abomination into the royal household. Innocence is an imperfect defense.

Asher takes a while to warm up to; I found him irritating at first and Gar's interest in him to be a little too fortuitous. The author explicitly states that Gar wants someone who's not impressed by royalty, but Asher's attitude comes off as rude. He feels very much like a young Luke Skywalker before he gets the pride knocked out of him and becomes a better Jedi for it. Asher in comparison never has to face any negative consequences for the fights he picks and is actually rewarded for them.

Prince Gar is way more interesting. As the only member of the upper class without magic, he is known disparagingly as a cripple and cannot inherit the throne he was born to. He accepts this as necessary, understanding his duty, but shows real moments of poignant hurt and bewilderment at the rejection by his people. The contradictions of his character - how he both does and doesn't want his birthright - are complex and human, and far more compelling than Asher's blunt instrument approach to life. 

At first I couldn't understand what on earth drove these two characters into each other's orbit, or why they stuck around. Then about a quarter of the way in, there's a time-skip, and we can see Asher and Gar once they're past their initial rocky beginning. That's when their relationship suddenly clicked for me, and I could see why Gar needed Asher so much, and why Asher felt such loyalty to him. I'm wary of using time-skips to jump-start character development, but in this instance I think it was necessary. I did not want to sit through six months of them getting to know each other. From this point on, their friendship was the strongest, most interesting relationship in the book and also one of the driving sources of tension. 

Other characters - the conniving adviser, the spoiled princess, the aging king - were clearly recognizable archetypes, but managed to surprise me with their outcome or motives. While many of them make stupid or malicious mistakes, it's never as simple as good or evil. The people are clearly people with their own weaknesses and failings. Perhaps the only person I outright disliked was Dathne, and this was ironically because of the time-skip. I much preferred her vaguely antagonistic role in the beginning and found the sudden switch to romantic interest disorienting. If there'd been foreshadowing or build up toward it, I might have accepted it better, but with the time-skip it seemed to come out of nowhere. With all the development put into Asher and Gar's relationship, I'd have been less surprised to see them get together. 

Miller's put a lot of effort into exploring the cultural and legal complexities of this world, but I didn't get a sense of the color and life that I would from, say, Sara Douglass. It seemed a generic medieval European setting, which was a shame because it would only take a little tweaking to hint at a more unusual cultural background. The upper class originated elsewhere, so throw in a little bit of old-world Japan or a hint of Egyptian civilization, or a sprinkle of the Ottoman Empire. Occasionally there was some really lovely imagery, like Fane's display of magic or even Asher's first impression of Gar (there's a reason I ship these two), and I wanted to see more of that. 

All up, this is a well above average high fantasy story. I usually judge the success of a first book by whether the author makes me want to pick up the second, and she definitely did so here. Miller is fairly popular in Australia so you should be able to find her series at a local bookstore (I picked this one up at a publishing outlet down the street). Otherwise it's available online, including Booktopia, Amazon and Book Depository.