The Rhodaic Standard

A recent comment influenced me to delineate the standard to which I hold all all books, as a reader. As writers, we are taught to eschew all cliches, so I'll refer to this as The Rhodaic Standard, named for Rhodium, a precious metal more expensive than gold or platinum. At least according to wiki.answers, which has to be The Rhodaic Standard of research sources, right? Good.

Those who know me will not be surprised to learn that The Rhodaic Standard is anything written by Dean Koontz. Koontz has been publishing at least one novel every year for as long as I've been alive, most of them bestsellers. Having just finished his latest, 77 Shadow Street, I debated about writing a review. How does one critique Michelangelo? DaVinci? Ryan Reynolds? Since every good book deserves publicity, even if it is destined for best-sellerdom regardless, I shall now attempt to review 77 Shadow Street. *Spoiler alert* It gets 5 stars . . .

Once my beloved soul mate introduced me to Dean Koontz (not in the flesh, though that would be supremely awesome; unless I started jumping up and down and screaming and crying like some retro-hysterical Elvis fan, in which case it would be just humiliating) and I started searching for him in book stores, I was always puzzled when I found him in the Horror section. Being a big coward who cries big, fat tears when confronted with anything remotely horrorish (Stephen King books attempted: 4, finished: 1), I never found Koontz that horrific. Suspenseful, immensely so. Slightly science-fictionish, heavy on the science, with a liberal splash of the paranormal and trademark take on Good vs. Evil. There are certain things you can count on in a Koontz, but none of them fit very well into the Dewey Decimal System or onto a genre shelf. There is typically a dog of noble or even supernatural character, a child disabled or broken but wholly good and usually ultimately a savior in some way, and a hero that is essentially flawed but has the best of intentions. He almost never revisits a protagonist, Odd Thomas being the delightful exception to this rule.

Speaking of rules, 77 Shadow Street breaks a couple of them. First, it definitely fits into the Horror category. Perhaps hard-core King junkies will scoff at my reaction, but I was definitely creeped out by this book, especially when a fictional creepy-crawly squirmed across a window at the exact moment my real-life offspring absent-mindedly rapped one finger against a wall. She then apologized and coaxed me down off the ceiling. Second, while Koontz doesn't revisit a protagonist, per se, he revisits the scene in a unique way. The Moonlit Mind is a Kindle single that was released one month prior to 77 Shadow Street, and it features the Pendleton Manor - the setting for 77SS. The characters are different, and the timing relation isn't specified (for reasons that become clear in 77SS). Both tales are haunting and lip-smacking yummy. An additional plus (minus?) is that when the true villain was revealed in 77SS, I thought boy, it's a good thing Koontz made that up and it couldn't really happen, but then--knowing Koontz as I do--I took a quick side trip to Wikipedia and learned--yep--Fiction Based on Fact strikes again. *shudder*

As Koontz's go, Intensity had me chewing more fingernails, but 77 Shadow Street had me more intellectually involved with its higher stakes and more complex villains - and protagonists. I shan't include any real spoilers, but will ask you, my fellow writers, with this question: When is the last time your protagonist had to do something truly wrong in order to do what was right?

There are other artists on my list of Go-To's for Good Reads: Diana Gabaldon, Janet Evanovich, Sarah Graves, and Lisa Gardner, whose latest release, Catch Me, is up next.

One Second After by William R. Forstchen

Our local grade school has a fantastic 5th grade teacher who dedicates each month of the school year to one particular genre, i.e. biography, poetry, mystery, etc. Each month the kids choose a book from that month's genre and do some variation of a book report. Three of my four kids have been in her class so far, and every time there is one genre that leaves me scratching my head. Realistic Fiction. Somehow the things that happen in the books they read during this month just don't seem all that realistic to me. I suppose white rats could take over a classroom, and a group of children on a field trip to a farm may arrive to find the farmer murdered, but honestly - what are the odds?

One Second After, however, is All-Too-Realistic fiction. This would be a good book to read during "Things You're Not Worrying About But Should Be" month or "Ways In Which Our Government is Inept" month. If you're a believer in the Mayan calendar, you might choose to celebrate December 2012 by reading this book, but frankly, then it's probably too late and you'll just wish you'd read it during "Maybe There's Still Time to Prepare" month.

Forstchen's End of Days story doesn't include any of the stereotypical alien invasions, natural disasters, or World War III scenarios that Hollywood has reincarnated more times than the soul of a heathen Buddhist. Think it's hype from the over-active imagination of a doomsayer? The book's foreword is written by former House Speaker, Newt Gingrich, who stated, "Though this book is a work of fiction, it is also a work of fact, perhaps a 'future history,' . . . I know this from personal study, across decades, of the very real threat to American security that is posed by this particular weapon."

The weapon in question is know as "EMP" - short for electromagnetic pulse. By strategically detonating nuclear weapons above the atmosphere, it is possible to fry all electronic gadgets within a wide radius. Though none of the fallout would reach the surface, only a few detonations would cause planes, automobiles, phones, Kindles (the horror!) - everything remotely gadget-y across the country would cease to function immediately. One Second After shows how the silent moment when everything goes black could be more disastrous than any attack this country has ever seen, including 9/11 and Pearl Harbor.

Even better, this informed and intelligent novel is well-written. The hero is believable: at once noble and flawed, exhibiting a thoughtfulness and insight most of us would not have, but igniting into irrationality and unabashed self-centeredness when his child's life is on the line. Centuries of military and sociological history are beautifully woven into the plot, showing that what is to come can be predicted and prepared for by looking at what has come before. Clearly this knowledge also informed Forstchen as he wrote a plot that is so utterly believable it seems inevitable. Forstchen pulls no punches and the reader can shelve the idea that "everything will be ok; it's just a novel."

Lest readers be tempted to throw up their hands in despair and choose a sand face-plant rather than read an uncomfortable story, there are lessons offered by Forstchen in the course of the novel about preparing for disaster of any kind. Lessons learned by his characters that are not heavy-handed and don't overshadow the storyline, that is. Forstchen understands what Dean Koontz meant when he said, "First and foremost, I am an entertainer." Forstchen entertains, while also sounding an alarm that any voter, any parent, any person who likes to eat on a regular basis, and in particular--any decision-maker in a government position--should read, enjoy, and take heed.

Five Stars

Gridlock by Sean Black

Gridlock features bodyguard Ryan Lock and is the third in a series, though the first I've read from Sean Black. If Black and I were writing buds and met in a cafe for some Java and critique, this is what I would bring to the table:

What Works

Black does a fantastic job of making his leads two-dimensional and sympathetic. Lock is believable as a bodyguard who recognizes muscle mass as a liability (it slows movement) and describes bodyguarding as "organized running away." His female lead, who hires Lock for protection from a stalker, is a sympathetic character. This in and of itself is a testament to Black's ability. Raven Lane is stripper and porn star, which doesn't invite the average reader to invest much emotionally--present company included. By giving Raven a mentally-disabled brother for whom she is the self-sacrificial sole caregiver and painting her with a tough facade over a fragile interior, Raven becomes quite likable and the reader feels the tension when her life is threatened. Even Black's secondary characters have depth: Lock's playboy business partner who drives a "pimpmobile" strikes up a special friendship with Raven's Down's Syndrome brother, and Lock's fiancee pushes past her typical female reaction to her fiance guarding a porn star to declare "every woman has the right to feel safe in her own home," and stands behind it by offering Raven shelter in the beach home where Lock has set up their home base while on assignments. Like all good writers, Black pushes beyond stereotypes and that which is expected. His dialogue is also generally believable, a trick which is still quite elusive to me, but which I suspect stems from being a practiced student of human behavior.

What Needs Work

Around every story exists a gossamer veil known as Willing Suspension of Disbelief. It is a cloak we willing wrap around ourselves and the story we are about to partake--be it movie, campfire tale, or the written variety. Any matter of fantastical claims will be believed, so long as they make sense within the world the storyteller has created. This cloak, however, is much like a spider's web--it has incredible tensile strength but is thin and easily pierced. Anything that distracts the reader from the story pokes a hole in the veil and allows light from the real world to creep in. These holes are a writer's enemy, as the reader may well escape through them, damning our tale to an eternity collecting dust on the proverbial shelf. Black's word choices pierce the story like daggers, dragging attention away from his story and onto him, leaving him standing small and exposed behind the veil like the wizard of Dorothy's acquaintence.

First, I suspect that Black is British or of other European background, because of his curious word choices like "kerb," "Hallowe'en," and "torch"--rather than flashlight. The story is set in L.A. and the verbiage is jarring against that backdrop. If a story is set in a different location than the reader's world, then native word choices can strengthen the reader's experience. Tana French does this masterfully in her novels set in Ireland, like In the Woods. At times, though I suspect not in Black's case, a writer will use these word choices as part of their characterization. Lock is, after all, trained by the British military. This is a tricky technique and rarely done well. It only works if it is restricted to that character's speech and direct thoughts, not in the narration in general, unless the story is told in first person. Even with those restrictions, the technique must be applied with a light touch, or it becomes evident that the writer is cramming in as much authenticity as possible, leaving an effect as believable as the fishing nets decorating the walls of a seafood restaurant in Illinois. Writers should note Diana Gabaldon's The Outlandish Companion as a guide, which she points out is loaded with scads of historical research that never made it into her historical fiction novels because it didn't serve the story. Every word must justify its existence in terms of its ability to carry the story. Every word, no exceptions.

Which leads me to Black's other error in terms of word choice--a seductive error, but a lethal one nonetheless. Listen, I'm a shameless word-hussy, too, and no doubt my neighbor Colleen is still raising her eyebrow over my use of "gossamer" in the paragraphs above, but unusual words must be applied in the context of a story with great care. I don't get the sense Black is trying to appear smart and I'd bet he's just a big nerd like me that actually uses ridiculous words like "ebullient" in every day conversation. The only writer I've ever seen consistently pull this off in print in Dean Koontz, and since he's literally been publishing books for as long as I've been alive, the safest course of action is to save the fancy talk to deities who've populated the bestseller list for a few decades and not attempt it as mere mortals.

One Final Thought

I proceed with extreme caution to avoid any spoilers: another important aspect of the reader's relationship with the writer exists in the form of an unwritten, unspoken contract in which the writer promises all number of things, including consistencies in logic, not running the hero through with a blade on page 3 (George R. R. Martin notwithstanding), and tying up all loose ends. While it is important that writers push beyond the expected and make sure the plotline does not become overly predictable, there is a point where a line is crossed and the contract is breached in the name of novelty. It's arguable that Black may have crossed that line in this book, though each reader will have to decide for him/herself. Once the reader's trust is violated, it's virtually impossible to regain.

Gridlock is a bargain book at $3.99 for Kindle and is a good read. That Black has other novels available puts him in a key position to gain more readers from putting this book on special.

Power to the People or You Get What You Pay For?

Maybe it's because I'm a starving artist, but probably just because I'm cheap, the books I review will often be free Kindle books. I am one of those Kindle junkies that will pay 12.99 for one of my favorite authors--scandalous, according to some--but I stretch my book budget by subscribing to multiple freebie lists. The problem is, I only finish about 1 in 5 of the freebies I actually try. Most freebies are self-published novels. Its not that I'm against self-publishing, and I admit that self-pubs could potentially change the landscape of publishing. Especially if this article is true--though anonymous pontificators from "inside the publishing world" make me go hmm; the agents and publishers I've met were hardly shy about speaking their minds, regardless of the presence of any feathers to be ruffled. It's just that the current system exists for a reason, and most self-pubs actually prove the publishing world has yet to outlive its usefulness.

You see, not everyone that has A Great Book Idea--or even the raw talent to actually write well--has the patience, time, and grit to see it through. (Guilty. Cut me a break! It's hard, and I'm not into self-flagellation.) As a result, most e-pubs go to press far short of the standards readers expect. The Big Evil Agent/Publisher reads a few paragraphs and tells the writer, "Pass. It needs work." Starry I. D'Writer remains convinced that if the book could get to the public in spite of the publishing industry's gatekeepers, they'd just love it right up to the top of the Best Seller List--or, if we're being totally honest, just can't bear to spend another day on the same manuscript, but can't let it go. Thus, an e-pub is born, with typos, information dumps, and shifting P.O.V.s that only a writer's mother could love.

That's why I get really excited when I read a good self-pub. Why I take delight in giving that book props here. Because that writer put him/herself through the paces without the tough love an Agent would give or the gentle guidance an Editor with a publishing house could afford. And the others? Well, I won't mention them here. I'll just commiserate in silence. Because those who can, do. Those who can't critique.

Catching Fire and Mockingjay

The final two books in The Hunger Games deserve to be paid some respect here. A full review, however, would risk far too many spoilers. So here I offer just a few thoughts on the series as a whole:

As a writer, it strikes me what a fantastic embodiment of the writing process the Hunger Games themselves are. Plot starting to drag? The writer need only imagine him/herself as the Head Gamemaker and come up with some new and exciting way to torment the characters. Hunger, thirst, enemies masquerading as allies, genetically-mutated creatures programmed with a penchant for limb-ripping - these are plot devices. Exceptionally imaginative and effective, in this case, but devices nonetheless. At risk of beating the reader into retreat with relentless tension and unvarying pace? Float a silver parachute with a timely life-saving gift or a secluded cave in which to sleep hidden from the hunters who walk on two legs. When the fickle Muse finds better things to do than show up for work--again--channeling Plutarch Heavensbee is one more trick in the toolbox of the savvy Suspense writer.

Mockingjay, the third book in The Hunger Games trilogy, transcends its YA genre is more than just its appeal. The stakes are higher and the emotional range deeper than the reach of the average American teenager. Nothing is tied up in pretty bow, and the complicated nature of the plot mimics real life in a manner elusive to most mainstream fiction, let alone that written for the adolescent set. Parents need not worry this pushes the book beyond the realm of what's appropriate for young readers, however. Collins accomplishes this with a subtlety that ensures the stickier aspects of the story fly over the heads of readers not ready to process the gray areas that exist in love, life, and war.

The Hunger Games series is a must-read for all bibliophiles seeking to be kept up at night, and all writers seeking to rob their readers of sleep. Collins has easily earned a spot next to Rowlings and Meyer as YA authors that have changed the YA game forever.

The Hunger Games - Suzanne Collins

My daughter loved The Hunger Games, and since I shared her love of Twilight, I was more than ready to find another series we could enjoy together. The start of The Hunger Games smacked of Sci Fi, though, and I had a hard time getting into it. Usually a book starting out with other-worldly names and places loses me quickly, as I prefer that a book opens in this world and then lead me to another.

At Christmas, though, my sisters-in-law were raving about it and my hubby caught the bug, too. I started it again, but same result. On New Year's Eve, the same s-i-l's advised I needed to read it before the movie comes out if I want to tag along. (I use that line on my kids all the time, so it's only fair!) Since one of my all-time faves, Outlander, is considered a "slow starter" by some, I dove in once more. By the time The Reaping had arrived, I was hooked.

What works:

Like all great Young Adult novels, the reader quickly forgets this is a YA story. It is not simplistic or condescending, and the characters are believable within the world where they live. The stakes are high: life, limb, love, family. The pacing is excellent. There is enough tension to keep the reader worrying about what will happen next, but it's interspersed with a few scenes where the physical danger is lessened and emotional depth is introduced instead. This keeps the reader from throwing the book against the wall in frustration, because - hey - this is supposed to be entertaining, not nerve-wracking.

What shouldn't work, but does anyway:

Katniss Everdeen is not the most sympathetic lead. She is emotionally stunted to the point of being completely aggravating, but given that her entire life has been about staying alive and risking her life to keep her family alive, it's believable. Unlike clueless leading ladies that completely miss the signals being sent out by their male counterparts, Katniss actually considers taking things at face value, but rejects these explanations as not likely under the circumstances. A "torn-between-two-men" situation is so downplayed as to be almost a subplot, which keeps it from becoming cliche.

What makes it magic:

This is one of those books that makes closing the covers feel like emerging from a deep-sea dive. The ending is satisfying without being overly "neat." Katniss avoids falling into "tough chic" or "dumb bunny" stereotypes and emerges as a real person the reader will think about long after the story is done.

Five stars - save me a seat at the movie premiere, even though we all know the movie is never as good as the book.

I Never Look Back, Dahling

It's been a year since I've written. I've thought about writing. I've read about writing. I've tried to forget writing, but it exists like a persistent buzzing in the back of my brain. I have one follower left: my mother, I suspect. I've probed around the edges of this open hole where my muse once lived as one might bother the socket where a tooth once sat before it was ripped out by the surgeon, and I think I've begun to name the forces that left this crater. They are legion, but their tribe is called pressure. Word count became an ever-present layer of fog, and self-criticism surrounded by creative space with impenetrable coils of barbed wire.

Cliche as it is, a New Year is a new start and I have a few resolutions. None of them are self-improving in nature; have no fear about fighting me for the last elliptical or hiding your chocolate. Some of them are hobby-related: learn entrelac, try at least one felting project. The biggie, however, is to write. With no aim, no goal, no word count. Just to write for the simple fulfillment that it is. A lot of it will end up here, because screaming in a glass enclosure just hurts my ears. I'll do mostly book critiques, because when I read I'm often thinking about what I'd do differently and what I'd like to emulate. Some of my thoughts will inevitably creep in: my kids, my work, the hubs, the latest in yarn arts. The only rule is that - like the androgynous Edna Mole in The Incredibles - I never look back, dahling. At how hard I tried and failed (quit) to be a novelist. I'm a writer: by design or by compulsion, it's hard to tell the difference. In 2012 I'll be doing my best to just be.