Circle of Fire by Keri Arthur

It occurs to me that I've been doing a lot of high fantasy on this blog, but nothing in the way of urban fantasy, which is just a crying shame because there are some damn good paranormal authors out there.

The book I'm reviewing today is Circle of Fire, which is the first novel in the Damask Circle trilogy and involves a woman with psychic abilities trying to save missing children from a supernatural threat. While not the best urban fantasy I've ever read - that honor goes to Kim Harrison's Hollows series - it does have its own light charm. 

The story is fairly interesting, involving kidnappings and dark rituals, but is unfortunately overshadowed by the less-than-compelling sexual tension between the two main characters. Note that this might be due to my own bias, as I can't stand 'true love' that happens over a course of twenty-four hours and a single sexual encounter where one of the participants was drugged...

....and I just made it sound a whole lot worse than it really is. Okay, backing up. 

The supernatural elements are the best part of the book, as the main character Madeline steps deeper into a world she's only been peripherally aware of. There's just enough hints to give us a taste of what's to come, while leaving plenty of fodder for the next book. 

As a character Madeline is a bit of a doormat, but considering her background you can understand why. Not only does she have a power she can't control, she's the survivor of an abusive relationship, is estranged from her family, and the suspect in a murder. And all of this is prior to the events in the book. Fortunately the plot is about her growing out of her shell and fixing back together her shattered self-confidence, so things do get better for her. 

The main male character Jon was a rather generic love interest as supernatural novels go: mysterious, brooding alpha male with hint of danger. As a lot of the tension in the book centered around his interactions with Madeline, that's probably part of why I wasn't overly invested in the romance. If I don't care for one of the characters, I can't care about the relationship. The one thing I can say for him is that he treats Madeline with respect, which is something a lot of love interests in paranormal novels struggle with (I'm looking at you, Edward). 

To sum it up, I've read a lot worse urban fantasy - do not get me started on Stray - and at least the characters were attempting to act with consistent logic. The action starts slow, but picks up speed around the halfway point (noting that that isn't a particularly long book in the first place). So long as you don't take it too seriously it'll do you no lasting harm. 

Which, in all honesty, is pretty good advice concerning most urban fantasy.

Circle of Fire can be ordered in digital form on Amazon, and in phyiscal form on Booktopia and Book Depository. Otherwise, Keri Arthur is fairly popular at the moment so just check the paranormal section at your local bookstore. 

Myrren's Gift by Fiona McIntosh

You know how you can hear good things about an author, then read one of their books and find it totally ordinary? That was my crushingly disappointing experience of Royal Exile by Fiona MciIntosh. I really wasn't looking forward to reading her other work, but I'd promised myself I'd give her another chance, so I finally bit the bullet and bought a copy of Myrren's Gift.

And boy am I glad I did! Myrren's Gift managed to surprise me, and that barely ever happens anymore. 

The premise is that a witch bestows a gift upon the honourable but unfavoured companion to the Prince, and this gift will later come into play during the deadly political struggle for the throne. The very nature of the gift - and no, I'm not telling because that would spoil the plot - is brilliantly simple, working consistently but throwing a monkey wrench into the standard high fantasy story. You almost feel bad for the antagonists who can sense something is off but never manage to put their finger on the true problem. And fair enough; why should they? I'm the mostly-omniscient reader and it still threw me for a loop. 

The setting is usual medieval fare but who cares. The plot is so interesting that I barely even noticed. The characters are both engaging and sympathetic, even characters like the king who perform ethically questionable actions for political expediency. The main character Wyl has the potential to be extremely dull, but his steadiness is actually the perfect offset to the insanity of his situation. Anyone else would have gone mad, but he manages to be as clear-headed and logical about it as it's possible to be. The tragic aspect of it is that in any other story he'd be the loyal background second-in-command and content with that, but is forced to assume a position of resistance.

I'd like to talk about the character Romen, but it's difficult to do so without spoiling anything. Suffice to say, the connection between him and Wyl is powerful, compelling, unexpectedly tragic, and extraordinarily original.  This is the kind of imagination I like to see in my speculative fiction and barely ever find. I won't mention other characters, because Mcintosh has a way of developing apparently one-shot characters into ongoing ones, and taking out others that you'd swear were in for the long haul.

I highly recommend Myrren's Gift. I enjoyed it so much I'm having second thoughts about not reading the sequel to Royal Exile. That is how good this book is. 

Racial Relations in the Axis Trilogy, or The Death of my Teenage Nostalgia

I love nostalgia as much as the next girl. It's one of the reasons I started this blog in the first place; there are so many good books from my teenage years that aren't getting enough exposure. But looking back at my old favourites, it's inevitable that I'd find flaws that I didn't see the first time round.

Most recently, I was trying to write a review for Enchanter, the second book in the Axis Trilogy, which delves heavily into the world's fictional races and their interactions. But on flicking through the book, I was confronted with troubling racial overtones that had completely flown over my head as a teenager. I couldn't continue until I'd explained what I'd found and why it was so disturbing. Consider this a form of catharsis so I can go back and finish my review.

*Please note that there will be SPOILERS below, so skip if you want to remain unspoiled for the Axis and Wayfarer trilogies*

To give some context, there are three major races in Tencendor; the Avar, whose mysterious origins are never revealed, and the Icarii and Acharites who share a common ancestor. Each are ethnically distinct with their own customs and culture. The Acharites are unequivocally the worst sinners regarding racial injustice, having attempted genocide and driven their neighbours out of Tencendor. However, the Icarii and Avar are not completely innocent either, with the Icarii in particular having some troubled views on inter-racial unions.

Icarii and Acharite pairings are not common but not outright forbidden. Rivkah and Stardrifter's marriage caused "more than a few raised eyebrows" but was accepted.It's difficult to say if mixed parentage is usually cause for shame among Icarri, as although characters like Azhure and Axis never have to deal with any stigma for it, they occupy such exalted positions in Icarri society that it's unlikely anyone would be brave enough to say it to their faces.

Fanart of an Icarii by Illirik

More illuminating is the Icarii belief that "in every case of mixed parentage, the Icarii blood has proven the stronger". While StarDrifter speaks approvingly of the "vitality" of human blood, Icarii also believe that it must lie in "subjection" to Icarii blood and that all mixed heritage children will have purely Icarii characteristics. This has unfortunate similarities to the one-drop rule that was once prominent in the US, wherein the degree of mixed ancestry determined a person's racial classification regardless of how they identified themselves or what community they partook in.

Even worse is StarDrifter's casual admission that "in ages past Icarii birdmen simply took the babies of Human-Icarii unions and never spared a thought for the women they bedded". If you know anything about Australian history, this has extremely uncomfortable parallels with the Stolen Generations, wherein half-caste Aboriginal children were stolen from their mothers and raised 'white'. This wasn't a pleasant realisation for me; suddenly Azhure's anxiety about Caelum being taken from her was less an attempt to inject unnecessary drama and more a horrifically real-world fear.

However, I will admit that the narrative does not support this particular reading. Even Axis, who is a thoroughly unlikable person, condemns the practice of stealing children, and you know if even Axis is against it, it must be vile. The Icarii belief in dominant blood is played straight during the Axis trilogy, but is arguably subverted in the Wayfarer Redemption, where tapping into their Acharite heritage is the key to salvation.

What is truly impossible to overlook is how the narrative treats Gorgrael and Avar-Icarii unions.

Ironically, although the Avar are close allies to the Icarii (much closer than the Acharites) unions between them are completely taboo. There are no marriages and sexual encounters are only permitted on a specific religious holiday "when both people relaxed sufficiently to carry interracial relations to extremes never practised throughout the rest of the year". The one positive Avar-Icarii union we ever see is between Shra and Isfrael, whom Zenith muses had changed so much "it was as if his Sunsoar link was gone".

Children of these unions are explicitly prohibited, under the belief that they would be "abomination". Gorgrael's mother actually left her people because she "would not have been allowed" to carry her child to term. And the narrative supports this view because sure enough when Gorgrael is... born (don't ask, just don't) the naysayers are proven completely correct. He's hideous and irredeemably evil.

Fanart of Gorgrael from MissWiggle 

To make this even more explicit, an Avar man called Brode has an epiphany that Gorgrael's evil is due to his Avar heritage. Not because he was raised by monsters in the wilderness, or he wanted revenge for his rejection, or he was brainwashed by Wolfstar, the one supportive humanoid presence in his life. None of these valid and justifiable reasons. Gorgrael was evil because the Avar are inherently violent. Here is the passage:

"The Avar were people of innate violence...His Icarii blood may have given him the means to access the power to achieve his ends, but it was his Avar blood that had created the need to destroy in the first place."

The implication being that the only reason that the Avar aren't a race of sadistic, blood-thirsty murderers is because they don't have the means to do so. Apparently if they could get their hands on real power like the Icarii, they'd be the same monsters that the Acharites always accused them of being. This is pretty awful in and of itself, but if you take into consideration the other characteristics of the Avar like their connection to nature and ambiguously brown appearance (being described as "dark" or having "smooth olive skin" in contrast to the Icarii's "fine pale skin") it gets exponentially worse. It's very easy to read them as an expy of real Indigenous people, which makes these implications all the more disturbing.

I certainly don't believe this was intentional on Sara Douglass' part. If she were still around today, she'd probably be horrified and insulted if I implied as much. However, the text leaves itself open to a very uncomfortable interpretation, which I'd have liked to see subverted the same way the Icarii superiority was in the Wayfarer Redemption. If nothing else, I suppose it's a lesson on how carefully you have to watch what you're writing and what could be taken away from it.

Hopefully now that I've gotten this written down, I can go back and finish that review for Enchanter without these uncomfortable ideas hanging over my head. And maybe put some flowers on the tombstone of my teenage nostalgia because that's not going to be coming back any time soon.

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.

Battleaxe by Sara Douglas

Battleaxe is the first book of Sara Douglas' Axis trilogy. It also is - or was - a brilliant innovation in high fantasy.

Prior to this book, my experience of the swords and sorcery genre was very black and white; David Eddings, Robert Jordon, Tolkien. They were all innovative in their own ways, but otherwise stayed true to a certain formula. A great evil looms, idealistic innocent rises to the challenge, and princesses are in need of saving and/or marrying.

In Battleaxe, the characters certainly start off believing they are in this kind of story. Axis, the unacknowledged prince, is charged with escorting his hated half-brother's fiance to her wedding, while rumors spread of the return of the horrifying Forbidden. Very quickly though, appearances prove deceptive. Axis is no innocent idealist but an arrogant, ambitious jerk. The fair maiden, Faraday, cannot avoid disaster by marrying the right man, but the wrong one. The Forbidden turn out to be very different from myth and harboring a very legitimate grudge against humankind.

These types of twists are a dime a dozen nowadays, but back then - at least to me - it was a game changer. The hero doesn't have to be a good guy, grand quests don't always turn out how you want them to, and authority figures that are supposedly good and trustworthy can be lying through their teeth. Add in a sensual immediacy and a dash of gruesome horror, and you have Sara Douglas at her finest.

Battleaxe is definitely for older teens and above. I'm not exaggerating the horror aspect; there's some fairly disturbing violence in this book. The protagonists' extremely questionable morality might also be difficult for children to deal with; adultery and fratricide are discussed in a positive light, while a good deal of the plot revolves around religious and racial genocide.

However, it contains some of the most imaginative world-building I've ever encountered, with the most interesting racial tensions since Legolas and Gimli started sniping at one another. The characters' moral gray makes for intriguing reading, and even when the antagonists slip into two-dimensional villainy, there's a tragically pathetic edge to them that keeps them sympathetic.

Battleaxe can be found on Booktopia, Amazon.com, Book Depository, and just about any bookstore in Australia.

Self-published Australian fiction you should be reading

With the past decade and advent of Amazon, self-published books have become more widely available. There is some stigma attached to them, and not without reason. Self-published books don't have the same checks as those that go through publishing firms, and so tend to have more mistakes and problems.

However there are some pretty decent ones out there, available for fairly reasonable prices. Here are the some of those I've found deep-diving through the depths of Amazon and Booktopia: 

1. The Silence of Medair (High Fantasy)

This is a goodie. The titular character was sent to retrieve an artifact that could save her kingdom from invaders. However, in retrieving the artifact, she goes to sleep and awakens hundreds of years later to find the invaders succeeded and her world irretrievably altered. It's an interesting premise and unfolds in a way that offers no easy answers. Be warned though; it ends on something of a cliff-hanger and has a sequel. 

For a story on why the author chose to self-publish, see here; it's pretty daunting for anyone looking to break into the industry. 

2. Contest (Science Fiction)

This book is proof that self-publishers can break into the market; it's actually how Matthew Reilly was discovered. It's more science-fiction-y than what I usually recommend, but makes for a great action-adventure thriller. 

The premise is that the main character has been chosen to represent Earth in a fight to the death competition against representatives from seven other worlds. It's a little rough in place, but still an exciting, fast-paced read. 

3. Through the Whirlpool  (High Fantasy)

This one is a cross-dimensional adventure with two characters from very different worlds. It's a relatively recent arrival in self-publishing that needs some more love. It's up on Amazon.com and I can't seem to find it anywhere else. 

Be warned that the sequel is a lot more expensive than the first book, so be wary of starting this one unless you don't mind paying more to see how it ends. 

4. Wisdom Beyond Her Years (Science Fiction, Romance)

This one isn't high literature (not that any on this list are!) but is a very fun lesbian love story set 200 years in the future in a world of efficiency and rigid class structure. Has lots of action and is a little bit kinky, so probably avoid if bondage isn't your thing. 

The setting is futuristic Sydney and has fascinating world-building. 

Out of interest the author has a Youtube tutorial on self-publishing. 

5. Dark Shadows (Paranormal Romance)

This is a vampire paranormal romance, so if you're into that sort of genre this is definitely your book. Not for children, and has been compared favorably to Twilight (as I hated Twilight myself, this doesn't say much). 

Personally I prefer urban fantasy to paranormal romance (the difference being that the romance is a sideline rather than the focus) but people that do like it have loved this book. 

As with any book, it all depends on what you're into. 

So there you have it. Five self-published books by Australian authors that are worth reading. But don't take my word for it, go investigate companies like Vivid and Indimosh. There's plenty of talent out there; it's just a question of finding it. 

Black Spring by Alison Croggon

So I'm psychic apparently.

Not long ago I said that Picnic at Hanging Rock was the Australian Wuthering Heights. (I still stand by that statement, FYI). Then last week I picked up a book Black Spring by Alison Croggon, a book that I knew nothing about, other than it was by an Aussie author and had a vaguely interesting premise about a girl born with 'witch eyes' and all the tragic shenanigans that ensue. 

Not my usual thing, but the cover was creepy and cool-looking (check it out - it looks like something out of a Japanese horror movie!)

I started reading and was struck by an incredible sense of familiarity, as if I'd read this before. Then about two chapters in, it struck me - this was the beginning of Wuthering Heights! Sure the world itself was different, with fantasy elements like magic and wizards, but it had exactly the same introduction of a high born twit wandering into a dark gothic tale and being both repulsed and intrigued by everything going on. 

What I didn't find out until later was that the book was a homage to Wuthering Heights. The author outright says so in interviews. Which, I guess is not a bad thing in and of itself. It's out of copyright so it's public property and for better or worse there are a lot of sequels to classics out there, some actually very good.

The problem is that Black Spring isn't one of them.  

Don't get me wrong; there are good points. Like better sequels or re-tellings, Black Spring at least attempts to explore a fresh angle on the original material. Lina is a surprisingly sympathetic reinterpretation of Catherine, suggesting that her self-destructiveness is caused by the smothering oppression of her society rather than an inherently infantile nature. It's even daring enough to hint that her love for the Heathcliffe stand-in was more familial than romantic. 

However, the book is dragged down by being chained to the Wuthering Heights plot, wearily re-treading the same events even when they contradict established character traits or at the expense of potentially far more interesting developments. Take for example the idea of the Vendetta. Croggan goes to a lot of trouble to set this up and hints that it's going to be hugely important but in the end it just sort of... peters out. That Chekhov's gun was loaded and left in the open, and no one picked it up. 

I think if the author had allowed herself a little more freedom, paring down on what she used from the original novel and expanding on the new material she introduced, it could have been quite good. As it is, I can't recommend it. 

I'd advise saving your money and reading Wuthering Heights again.

Event - Matthew Reilly signing in WA

And just because I feel bad because the last post wasn't strictly within my guidelines about this site, here is another bit of news:

Matthew Reilley's going to be in Perth on the 13-14th of November, presenting his new book that looks a lot like a cross between Jurassic Park and Dragonriders of Pern. (Note I could be totally wrong; this is just my guess from the cover and description).

Won't lie; this sounds pretty awesome.

Details are here.

Event - Robin Hobb signing in NSW

What the frick? How the hell does NSW keep getting the good stuff?!

Robin Hobb is apparently going to be in several places in Sydney and Canberra on the 25th and 26th of November. She's not an Australian writer, but she's just that good I'm putting this up here anyway.

At least one of these events needs a ticket to attend, so if you're a fan, check the details on the relevant link below:

NSW Dymocks Events

ACT Dymocks Events

Gah, I need to move down south. Seriously.

Royal Exile by Fiona McIntosh

In my (utterly unimportant) opinion, what makes good fantasy or science fiction is the willingness to take risks. Across the Nightingale Floor was interesting because it occurred in such a radically different culture than expected from Western high fantasy. The Axis Trilogy was intriguing because it had blood and gore that wasn't normally seen in this genre at the time.

My point is, you can't write high fantasy by coloring inside the lines. Or you can, but it'll be boring.

Like Royal Exile.

In case you think I'm being too hard on it, I went into this book wanting to like it. I figured Fiona McIntosh would be like Glenda Larke or Karen Miller, in that it would take me a little while to warm up to the characters but by the end I'd be salivating for the next installment.

Royal Exile started out with the usual opening about an invading army and an heir hidden away to oneday rise up and lead the people to freedom. The invader's leader, not being an idiot, insists on the kid being found before this can happen. A pretty standard premise; a little derivative but not a major sin. You could argue that the plot of every fantasy book in existence is equally derivative.

The problem became clear a few chapters in and only got worse from there. The fact is, there's nothing to make this book stand out from the crowd. The plot isn't so entertaining that you're dying to see what happens next, and the world building is nothing that hasn't been done a thousand times before; just more medieval European-style fantasy. All this could have been salvaged with compelling, interesting characters, but with exactly two exceptions, everyone is flat and one-dimensional.

To be fair, the two characters I did like - Freath and Genrie - were great. They each had to submit to masters or regimes they found distasteful, and make compromises of dignity or principle for utterly thankless roles. They were insight into an aspect of the 'hidden rightful king' type story that its not normally shown and were actually interesting enough that I was annoyed every time we had to go back to that whiny prince kid. If we could have had an entire novel with Freath and Genrie as the focus, it would have been a pretty decent read.

Unfortunately a good chunk of it is dedicated to the useless Prince Leo and his forgettable bodyguard.  I suspect their ineffectiveness was deliberate, based on a certain plot development at the end, but I didn't need to spend a third of the novel watching them being useless. At least the background characters Clovis and Kirrin managed to be helpful to the main plot.

All up, Royal Exile wasn't particularly good or bad. It's main sin is that it takes no risks that would make it worth reading. It spends too much time on characters it doesn't need to, and not enough on the ones it should. It wasn't terrible enough to put me off the author entirely, but it's not one I'd recommend. I'm going to put this in the re-gifting pile and try another of her series next time.

Royal Exile is available on Amazon.com (but not the Australian Amazon for some reason), Booktopia, Book Depository, or most local book stores.

Five Kick-Ass Heroines from Australian Fantasy

Not long ago, during my Threshold review, I had a small bitch-fest about Sara Douglas' tendency to create sub-par female characters. Of late I realized that I'm probably giving the wrong impression of Australian fantasy as a whole. There are plenty of great heroines being written, it's just a matter of looking in the right places.

So without further ado, here is my list of top five kick-ass heroines in Australian fantasy. (Note that there will be, obviously, SPOILERS).

1. Azhure from the Axis Trilogy

To prove that I'm not completely dissing Sara Douglas, Azhure gets a place on this list, but it's a well deserved one. She started out as the much-abused daughter of a villager, who rescues a Forbidden girl from being burned alive. One of her first acts is to trick a soldier into opening the door and hit him over the head with a rock. From thereon, she only gets more awesome, escaping to the Forbidden people and becoming a warrior of renown. 

She's dirty fighter, not afraid to fool her enemies with decidedly gruesome tricks, and if you get on her bad side, she will set her hounds on you. Yes, she's wrapped up in a love triangle with the male lead, but she doesn't angst or whine about it. She even ends up as friends with the other woman without any resentment or jealousy, which is nice to see. 

Azhure is proof that all you need to escape a bad situation is to keep your head and take the opportunity for escape when you see it. Though an affinity for violence and a well-sharpened knife helps.

2. Princess Rhian from the Godspeaker Trilogy

This is one I haven't reviewed yet, but it is a great series. Rhian is the sole daughter of a dying king and since only men can inherit the throne, Rhian is under a bit of pressure to marry and provide Ethrea with a king. 

Rhian, however, is no wilting flower. She tells her dukes where they can stick their ideas and runs away to marry a man of her choosing: ie. someone who will be happy with the title 'Prince Consort' and keep his grubby mitts off her throne. Along the way she meets a bad-ass warrior who teaches her the dance of the knives, which is exactly as violent as it sounds, and ends up leading her people against a savage invading army. 

Rhian is smart, practical and politically savvy. She might not have wanted the throne, but dammit, it's hers and she's going to fight for it. She's like Queen Elizabeth, if Elizabeth was a ninja with a sword and challenged rebellious dukes to single combat.

3. Ligea Gayed from The Mirage Makers trilogy

This is another trilogy I haven't reviewed yet. Ligea is the adopted daughter of an aristocrat, who is sent to infiltrate rebellion in the land of her birth. She is underhanded, sneaky and not afraid to bribe or blackmail people into doing her bidding. 

Unlike the others in this list, she's not a warrior, but she doesn't need to be. She can get on just fine without it, and when push comes to shove, she's not afraid to punch you in the throat and stop your heart. She also has some cool psyhic powers and a sword that answers only to her. 

While Rhian and Azhure make some pretty amazing spectacle, I'd probably be more wary of Ligea because she's the one you'd never see coming. You'd wake up on the other side of death, wondering what the hell just happened. Appropriate for the heroine of a trilogy with 'Mirage' in the title.

4. Kassa Daggersharp from the Splashdance Silver 

I've already mentioned before how much I love Kassa. She lives in the lovably ridiculous world of Mocklore where only the genre savvy survive. She's the daughter of a Pirate King, who has magic singing voice, a ghost-ship and a very niche sense of style. 

Technically you could say Kassa isn't really a hero. Most of her time is spent finding treasure, dodging death, and fighting with her crew about who's going to do the washing up. She's also caused at least two large scale magical disasters and attempted to kill the Empress, so you can kind of understand why there are so many warrants for her arrest. 

But the hell with it. Kassa might be selfish, manipulative and throw epic tantrums, but she does try to fix her mistakes. And the Empress was elected through some really dodgy government practices, so you could argue she didn't legally hold the office anyway.

5. Sabriel from the Old Kingdom series

Yes, these are teen fiction. No, I'm not going to apologise. Because Sabriel is awesome. She doesn't have the bad-ass skills of Katniss Everdeen, but she fights zombies and can cross over into the afterlife, literally bringing you back from the dead. 

She's smart, driven, and honorable about her duties. If you're in trouble - even if it's not part of her given quest at the moment - she will take the time to help you. And if you are centuries old undead looking to bend all magic to your will, watch out. She will lure you into a magic-less realm and stuff you into the body of a cat, where you can spend the rest of your days dreaming of tuna. 

Put it like this; if I was part of an oppressed people where my only hope was a hidden magical aristocracy, I'd want Ligea or Azhure on my side. If I was looking at invasion by a brutal army running on human sacrifice, I'd want Rhian. If I wanted to avoid a large scale magical disaster I'd probably... not want Kassa anywhere near the thing. 

But if I lived in a world where the vicious undead roamed and wanted to chew my face off, I'd pray really hard that there was a Sabriel there to come save me. And you know what? She'd probably show up and do it. 

Signed books by John Flanagan

If you're looking for a Christmas present for child reader, Booktopia is selling signed copies of the fifth book of John Flanagan's Brotherband series.

(No, not that guy, this guy)

I haven't read his series, but they're fairly popular and seem a bit like Deltora Quest, which I enjoyed even as a young adult. So long as you order it before December 10th, you can get them in before Christmas.

I do not remember this many cool books being available for kids when I was young. I was stuck with stuff like Enid Blyton. Ever wish you could time travel, but have the things that kids nowadays have?

Picnic at Hanging Rock by Joan Lindsay

Funny story - a lot of people think Picnic at Hanging Rock is based on a true story.

I had a horrible moment when I recounted this little fact to a workmate, who was all 'wtf are you on about, of course it is, I'm going to go to Macedon oneday and research it'. Me, being me, was insulted that she would doubt my awesome powers of being right and tried to explain that no, it wasn't. Then she got upset and it occurred to me that I was destroying her power of belief, which all the Christmas specials say never to do, and did some really hasty back-peddling. No, of course it's real. You're absolutely right. Just kidding.

Whew. That was a close one. Now as long as she never goes to Macedon...

This misconception can be squarely blamed on the diabolical genius of Joan Lindsay, who played up the mystery of the novel, refusing to admit one way or another whether it was true. She even wrote a final chapter that resolved the mystery but arranged for it only to be published after her death. That magnificent bitch,

In all seriousness though, Picnic at Hanging Rock's ambiguity is what makes it brilliant. There's a sense of the unfinished about it, of answers frustratingly out of reach. The lack of resolution is haunting, both for the readers and the characters. I'd argue that inability to deal with this was the villain's fatal flaw; they were so used to being absolutely in control, that the sudden lack of control was what sent them sliding down the slippery slope.

Even reality itself is on uncertain footing in this novel. As with Wuthering Heights, the supernatural keeps intruding, the border between life and death uncertain. There's a constant sense of unease, the characters suspecting on some level that the rules and logic they adhere to are an illusion. The final chapter - which can be found on Amazon but also lurks around dark corners of the internet - would elevate it to Lovecraft-style horror if weren't for the sense of wonder. In this book, chaos is beautiful and wondrous, and it's loss is crushing.

Picnic at Hanging Rock is a classic for a reason. In my mind it's the Australian Wuthering Heights, ditching the romance and raising the permeability of its reality to an art form. Its writing is gorgeous and unsettling, and everyone ever should read it. No doubt somewhere in the afterlife Joan Lindsay is smirking at having the best marketing campaign prior the Blair Witch Project.

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.

Clariel by Garth Nix

I'm finally going to review Clariel by Garth Nix. I actually wanted to review this two weeks ago when my copy (signed by Garth Nix!) arrived in the mail. I finished it all in one sitting and had all these thoughts running around my head, but I needed to let them all settle first.

Clariel is a prequel set very far in the past of Sabriel's world. Clariel, granddaughter to the Abhorsen and cousin to the king, is brought by her parents to the city Belisaere. Once there, she finds herself the unwilling center of a conspiracy to usurp the monarchy.

I'll say this straight up. Before I read this, I was concerned that this would be a retread of Sabriel or Lirael.

It's not. It's really not.

There are definitely similarities to the other books, but only enough to give you that familiar taste while building a completely different situation. Like Lirael, it could be seen as a variation on Sabriel's journey, but where Lirael asks 'what if I have a dream that I might not be capable of fulfilling?' this one asks 'what if I am prevented from fulfilling my dream?' It's a biting rejoinder against every call to adventure that summoned unwilling farm boys away from home.

The main character Clariel shares some characteristics with the characters Sabriel and Lirael. All are teenage girls with very strong ideas about who they want to be. They all have remarkably good sense for teen heroines - when confronted with a charming young assassin, Clariel doesn't upgrade him to love interest, finding his overtures genuinely threatening - and none of them are afraid to go after what they want. However, there's a restrained anger and frustration within Clariel that was lacking in her cohorts, swirling dangerously beneath the surface. While Sabriel tended to be very collected under pressure and Lirael relied more on guile and stealth, Clariel really just wants to break a chair and beat her enemies' heads in with it.

On my second read-through, I was actually kind wishing she'd gone and done it. Because this time I knew what was coming, and I could see how literally everyone else in the book had contributed to create an impossible situation. I won't spoil the ending, but like the best tragedies, there were so many moments that could have avoided an awful outcome. On the surface, it's a relatively happy ending but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that the undead didn't lose. They just suffered a setback, and arguably achieved something more than worth the inconvenience. And all it would have taken was just one person had listening to Clariel instead of focusing on their own goals.

The cultural building was interesting, because you get to see a relatively prosperous era in the Old Kingdom, prior to the crapsack world of Sabriel's time. The character Clariel, as a newcomer, offered great insight into the idiosyncrasies of the culture and people. I liked as well that her resistance wasn't her offering up a token protest at being forced to do girlish things; she was genuinely uncomfortable, and every attempt to force her to fit in grated like a square peg being forced into a round hole.

All up, Clariel is a great contribution to the Sabriel world. It wasn't what I was expecting, but it's exactly what I needed. I ordered my copy from Booktopia (see link above), but it's also available at most bookstores in the teen section, online from Book Depository, and can be ordered electronically from Amazon,

Book Fest September 27-28

It's that time of year again! (For some of us anyway). Book Fest is on this weekend in Bundaberg and Caboolture. 

Book Fest, if you're one of those sad unenlightened people who haven't heard of it, is a wonderful event hosted by Lifeline at various places across Australia. They sell second hand books starting at $2 each, with the price going up depending on condition.

Just to clarify that - you get cheap books and help out a worthwhile charity. It's like earning good karma and receiving it all at the same time! 

Here are some tips from my experiences: 

• Make a list. Sure it's fun to stroll around the tables and try to spot something you like, but if you're like me, you're just going to end up dithering over what you want and probably change your mind right at the last minute. If you have a list, you can save energy lugging that pile of books around, and usually get in first before the ditherers have made up their minds. 
• Bring your own bag. Because trust me, your arms are going to ache. You wouldn't believe how heavy those books get after the first hour. If you have something like a recyclable shopping bag you can just sling it over your shoulder and continue on. 
• Arrive on the Saturday. A lot of the good stuff is gone by Sunday. Get first dibs by getting in early. 
• Take a friend (who's into books). You wouldn't think it, but it is way more fun if you have a friend who's into the same sort of genre you are. I had a blast with my mum when we ran around picking out all the Agatha Christie, or with my friend when we went looking for the Margaret Atwood. 
• Do not take a friend (who's not into books). This is related to the above point. Do not, under any circumstances, bring someone along who's not into books. I've done this. It is a mistake. You will be distracted, they will be bored and wanting to leave before you're ready. It will be awkward
• Plan your day. The best way I've found is to go in the morning, preferably with a friend, and go for lunch afterwards. A few hours is all you need and then you can recharge and go home to start reading all those lovely books. 

Alas, I won't be making it to either of the Book Fests this weekend. I'm going to have to wait until January when the Brisbane Book Fest begins. But for anyone that is, start clearing out your bookcases! 

Innocence Lost by Karen Miller

It's been a week and I think I've let Innocence Lost settle enough. Time for a review!

Innocence Lost is the sequel to the Innocent Mage. It pays off on the plotlines started in the first book and references events from it. So, obviously, there will be spoilers.

Innocence Lost begins with the discovery of the deaths of nearly the entire royal family, leaving Prince Gar the only heir. However, as his manifestation of magic is only recent, his position is far from secure, leaving him vulnerable to political monouvering. When his magic fails entirely, he asks his friend Asher to break their most ancient law in order to protect his kingdom and throne.

If I had to pick one theme in this book, it would be consequences. Everything that happens in this book is a consequence of an earlier decision by the characters, be it a year in the past, or twenty years, or a thousand years. There are so many ways that this could have ended more happily; if the Doranen hadn't led Morg to the Olken, if they hadn't asked them to give up their magic, if Durm hadn't looked beyond the wall, if Willer had been more loyal... I don't think there's a single decision these characters make that doesn't come back to bite them.

Gar, as in the first book, is a far more interesting character than Asher. He actually has something he wants, and his efforts to attain or keep this are the driving force of the story. Asher in comparison spends most of the story being pushed one way or another by other people's motives. I do feel sorry for him, and to Millar's credit, his reactions feel real. When he gets screwed over, he reacts with anger and frustration. When a friend lets him down, he's hurt and upset.

The other characters had their moments as well. Conroyd was the usual amorally ambitious politician, who had a moment of near-redemption toward the end, while Darran's absolute dedication to Gar was touchingly demonstrated. In contrast, Dathne whose deceptiveness and ruthlessness was rather interesting in the last book (like when she served up the cakes to the prisoner) was suddenly reduced to the love interest and didn't take any further initiative of her own. I feel if you'd taken Veira out and had Dathne take over her role, you'd have a much more dynamic character.

The ending I was torn about. I felt the final chapter had everything working out too conveniently considering the bloody near-Armageddon that just happened, but this is high fantasy. And in a weird way, it ties in with the books' constant debate regarding qualifications of rulership. All up, it's a good sequel that follows through on everything that was promised to us by the first.

Signed books by Garth Nix

How much do I love Booktopia right now? They're offering copies of Clariel signed by Garth Nix, if ordered before 1st October 2014.

I've already placed my order, along with a bunch of other paperbacks I've been meaning to pick up, so now I get to play the letterbox-watching game for the next two weeks. It's like Christmas... if I had to pay for my own presents.

Victoria Event - Damian Perry signing

I was browsing through the Dymocks Events calender, and I noticed that a new author Damian Perry is doing an event down in Victoria this evening. So jealous right now.

His book Dwarves in Space sounds pretty interesting - a mash-up of sci-fi and fantasy. This one is definitely going on the reading list. 

For anyone in Victoria, he'll be at the 34 Collins Street Dymocks at 6.30pm tonight. It's free, but you'll need to book ahead. Follow the Event Calender link for more details. 

Splashdance Silver by Tansy Rayner Roberts

I had some difficulty picking which book to review this week, but I finally decided to go with an old favourite of mine: Splashdance Silver by Tansy Rayner Roberts.

Splashdance Silver is a delicious high fantasy comedy. It's set on the tiny island of Mocklore where high fantasy tropes make everyone's lives more interesting, occasionally by cutting huge swatches of destruction through them. Kassa Daggersharp, the daughter of the infamous Pirate King, has just learned that her father is dead and now she is now expected to take up his responsibilities of terrorizing and looting, and while she's at it, lay claim to the giant pile of treasure he hid somewhere.

This book is written in the style of Terry Pratchett, which is not a bad thing. It has the same joyful randomness and affection for the very things it parodies. Yes, you will laugh yourself silly at its version of chivalrous romance and epic adventure, but at the heart of this story is a deep love for the source material.

Kassa herself has the dangerous potential to be a Mary-Sue (if you don't know what that is, follow this link), being a golden-eyed girl who has two amazing destinies pulling at her, but just wants to be an 'ordinary' tavern dancer. Not to mention having a dead dad, steaming sexual tension with the designated 'bad boy', and a dark secret in her past. Also, she can sing.

She avoids Mary-Sue territory by being immature, bad tempered and fixated on her wardrobe. But not in a jerkass way. She's like the version of you that just got dragged out of bed at five o'clock on a Sunday morning to do chores someone else already promised to do. She's not very enthusiastic, will commit violence if you push her too far, but by god, if she's going to do it, she's going to do it in style. It also helps that when humiliation rains down on her rag-tag crew of misfits (as it does several times) she's not spared in the slightest.

I won't say too much on the crew, to avoid spoilers. However, I did enjoy her cousin Daggar's unapologetic cowardice and vague concern about her antics, while Aragorn was most fun when he and Kassa were snarking at each other. The antagonist, Talle, is the villain we all wish we could be. Self-possessed, scheming, with an excellent PR manager, she enjoys the perks of villainy to their fullest.

Splashdance Silver is a wonderful romp and I highly recommend it. It's difficult to find in bookstores, but it is available online through Amazon.

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. 

Threshold by Sara Douglass

If you're reading this blog, you'll work this out sooner rather than later - I am a huge Sara Douglass fan. 

Threshold is a good place to start for newcomers to her work. It's not part of a larger series and gives you an indication of what you can expect, being strong in the elements that Douglass is typically good at, and weak in the areas she typically isn't. 

It's set in Ashbod, a world similar to Egypt about three thousand years ago. The protagonist, Tirzah, is a glassmaker sold into slavery to cover her father's debts. Her talent with 'caging' glass sees her bought by the brutally oppressive Magi who are completing construction on a pyramid called Threshold. This creation demonstrates a terrifying intelligence and only Tirzah's charged relationship with the Magus Boaz may be able to stop it. 

What I love abut this book is the mix of genres. On the one hand you have an epic romance. On the other you have an Eldritch Abomination. And over there is an oppressed culture forced into hiding, social revolution, and a rollicking adventure story with plenty of action. It all weaves together into a riveting tale that doesn't leaving anything feeling forced or tagged on. 

That said, it does amply demonstrate one of my biggest criticisms of Sara Douglass' work. 

While Douglass has created female characters who take a strong hand in determining their own future (Azhure from the Axis Trilogy comes to mind, as does the surprisingly resourceful Ravenna from Darkglass Mountain), many more are simply passive recipients of their fate.( Margaret from The Crucible, Zenith from The Wayfarer Redemption and Maeb from the Devil's Diadem are all indecisive women who rarely fight as their choices are stripped from them.)

This is perhaps an oversimplification - these women all had different circumstances and cultures that rendered them powerless - but they are examples of a trend in Douglass' work which I don't enjoy. 

In Threshold, Tirzah is initially horrified and repulsed by Boaz's interest in her. However, their relationship quickly develops into something uncomfortably close to that old cliche; a bad man turned good by the love of a woman. While I get the feeling that Douglass is attempting to navigate around this trope, she doesn't quite succeed. Whenever Boaz lashes out at Tirzah, it doesn't feel like a deconstruction of 'maybe I can save him!' but another logical step in a horrific relationship where lying, manipulation, death threats and physical abuse are the norm. 

Which, if tackled head on, would actually be pretty interesting. But played as a forbidden romance, it comes off as disturbing. 

Worldbuilding is where Douglass really shines, and her work here is phenomenal. She has captured the dry, oppressive atmosphere of Ashadod and the looming threat of Threshold. Even the places we only catch glimpses of, like Tirzah's homeland Viland and the mysterious Place Beyond, have their own flavour and imagery. The two competing cultures - that of the imposing Magi and the secretive Elementals - are very interesting in their opposing ideologies, and I was only sorry we didn't get to see their clash more thoroughly explored. The source of the Elemental's magic and the 'talking to glass' is very original and though it doesn't have many clearly defined rules or limitations like most magic systems in high fantasy, it fits well into the overall theme of the book, of the organic and natural versus the impersonal and technological. 

Regarding the characters themselves, nearly everyone apart from Boaz and Tirzah, feels slightly two-dimensional. You know immediately upon meeting them what role they are going to play, but they play them so well you just don't care. No one is walking through the motions here; they're deeply passionate in their goals and even when they're making horrible (so horrible!) mistakes they keep you glued to the page. The antagonist, the One, is absolutely terrifying. Very little is known about it, but that is part of the horror. It is a malevolent force that can't be predicted or stopped, and it's own desires and goals are utterly opaque, possibly incomprehensible. It makes the more human villains, the Magi, appear utterly petty in comparison and considering what the Magus Ta'uz does in his first appearance, that takes effort. 

Speaking of Ta'uz, I should warn that Threshold, like all Sara Douglass' work, contains a lot of violence. It is not explicit - there is no blow by blow description of each drop of blood - but a lot of what goes on is very nasty and even children aren't spared. In all honesty this is part of the draw for me, but not everyone will enjoy it. 

Threshold is by no means a perfect book, but it is a hugely entertaining one and the positives outweigh the negatives. It's memorable and it makes me want to re-read it, which I think is a good measure of success. Most bookstores don't keep it in stock, but they can order it in and a Kindle version is available online at Amazon.com.