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Jim Butcher, Small Favor: Butcher’s still doing a competent job with the Harry Dresden novels. That’s not a criticism. He delivers complicated supernatural politics and just-barely-winnable challenges for Harry, but it’s easy to conclude that his heart’s not in it anymore—trapped by success into continuing to write a universe that's lost its glow for him. In this volume, Harry spends a bit of time training his new protégé, and a lot more time trying to avoid assassination by both the Winter and Summer fairy courts for various things he did to them. Also, the super-bad fallen angels are back in town, with plans that involve Harry, who is having some issues with his powers—in particular, something odd has happened to his hand. If Butcher actually plans to conclude the series in a few books, this could all come together in a pretty satisfying way, and if he’s not writing from the burning heart of desire anymore, at least he hasn’t fallen down the Id Vortex.
Stephen King, Duma Key: After a devastating accident, a construction company owner loses his wife, gains bouts of uncontrollable rage, and moves to Florida to try to salvage his life. He turns to art therapy, and starts producing works of genius. Is it just native talent, or is it connected to the house he’s renting, a house that’s hosted numerous famous artists over the years? And how is that connected to the other people on the island, who have secrets of their own? The artist is one of King’s favorite protagonists, but it doesn’t usually work that well. Choosing painting instead of writing for Edgar Freemantle’s creative genius helps, I think, by providing some distance between King and his subject, and eventually there is some good stuff about the experience of creativity. As usual, King’s characters face serious stakes: important people die at the hands of whatever it is that haunts the Key. This isn’t King’s most powerful work, but it’s not an embarrassment either.
Jennifer Crusie, Getting Rid of Bradley: I understand this is early Crusie, and it does have way too much “heat” in the sex scenes—literally, the word “heat” and its variants appear in practically every sex-related sentence—but it otherwise has the basic hallmarks: dogs and a strong, immediate connection between the protagonists that’s reinforced by banter and hindered by realistic barriers (e.g., the fact that the heroine is just divorced and trying to figure out who she is) as well as thriller-lite barriers (the hero suspects her ex of some nefarious doings). Not great, but not cringeworthy either.
William Gibson, Virtual Light: It’s interesting to read 15-year-old Gibson now and look at what he got right (reality shows) and wrong (Japan’s role in the world). Chevette, a bike messenger, steals just the wrong item, and gets caught up in a deadly chase; Berry Rydell, an ex-cop turned security guard, is on the other side, but not sure he likes what he’s been asked to do. I never felt much connection with any of the characters, who seemed to be illustrating various features of Gibson’s revised San Francisco.
Stephen King, Duma Key: After a devastating accident, a construction company owner loses his wife, gains bouts of uncontrollable rage, and moves to Florida to try to salvage his life. He turns to art therapy, and starts producing works of genius. Is it just native talent, or is it connected to the house he’s renting, a house that’s hosted numerous famous artists over the years? And how is that connected to the other people on the island, who have secrets of their own? The artist is one of King’s favorite protagonists, but it doesn’t usually work that well. Choosing painting instead of writing for Edgar Freemantle’s creative genius helps, I think, by providing some distance between King and his subject, and eventually there is some good stuff about the experience of creativity. As usual, King’s characters face serious stakes: important people die at the hands of whatever it is that haunts the Key. This isn’t King’s most powerful work, but it’s not an embarrassment either.
Jennifer Crusie, Getting Rid of Bradley: I understand this is early Crusie, and it does have way too much “heat” in the sex scenes—literally, the word “heat” and its variants appear in practically every sex-related sentence—but it otherwise has the basic hallmarks: dogs and a strong, immediate connection between the protagonists that’s reinforced by banter and hindered by realistic barriers (e.g., the fact that the heroine is just divorced and trying to figure out who she is) as well as thriller-lite barriers (the hero suspects her ex of some nefarious doings). Not great, but not cringeworthy either.
William Gibson, Virtual Light: It’s interesting to read 15-year-old Gibson now and look at what he got right (reality shows) and wrong (Japan’s role in the world). Chevette, a bike messenger, steals just the wrong item, and gets caught up in a deadly chase; Berry Rydell, an ex-cop turned security guard, is on the other side, but not sure he likes what he’s been asked to do. I never felt much connection with any of the characters, who seemed to be illustrating various features of Gibson’s revised San Francisco.
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Although I still loved Small Favor about 10xs more than I did the first couple books. And yes--I'm also so glad Harry hasn't turned into a minor god with the associatingg complex. I actually really like that he's turned really scary and that others are afraid to trust him.
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Gibson
Awesome dude.
I remember first discovering his world.
spike