Fiction
Nonfiction
Despite struggling through both Pride and Prejudice and Zombies and Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters , I was pleased to find the most lengthy of these “monster classics,” Android Karenina, was a fast and engaging read.
If anything, it proves to me that I can’t grasp Jane Austen’s writing style nearly as smoothly as I can Leo Tolstoy’s. Part of the ease of reading Android Karenina probably came from knowing the original plot ahead of time a little better than I did for Pride and Prejudice and Sense and Sensibility . And yet, the real reason is more visceral than that.
What Android Karenina’s predecessors attempted was to take two vastly different genres and mash them together in the hope that the combination would interest readers. Where Android Karenina succeeds where the others have failed is that the addition of the steampunk/science fiction genre enhances the story. Adding zombies or sea monsters to a romantic story to liven up the boring sections merely accentuates where these boring parts are. When the robotic-themed changes to a piece of classic Russian literature directly enforce the overt themes of the rise of communism, then the story becomes much more compelling.
Granted, some of the source material can be easily implied past the steampunk coverings, but that’s always been the case with these “Quirk Classics.”
At the very least, the pacing of this story kept my interest throughout and rarely dragged itself down via the “drama” of aristocratic gossip and endless discussion of potential marriage partners. But again, this is likely the outcome of adapting Leo Tolstoy instead of Jane Austen. After reading this book, I certainly want to go back and read the original Anna Karenina , even despite the hefty page count.
An enhanced version of Tolstoy’s original in more ways than one, I give Android Karenina 4.0 stars out of 5.
A coworker of mine suggested this book to me a few months back. The title sounded interesting, so I put it on my Overdrive wish list and waited for it to become available. Both he and I have a somewhat thorough understanding of Japanese culture, so once I got into this book, I found myself imagining it as an anime. Of course, because The Wind-up Bird Chronicle was originally written in Japanese, there are plenty of cultural idiosyncrasies that might be hard to understand from a different cultural viewpoint. At times, the content is a bit weird, the sex awkward, and the violence strangely surgical.
What was quite refreshing with the narrative in The Wind-up Bird Chronicle, was its timelessness. Written in the early 1990’s and set in the mid-1980’s, only a few technological items (i.e. a land line, an early computer, etc.) haven’t held up well over time. Everything else about the story is so character-driven that it could probably happen at any time. These characters are odd, to say the least. From psychic sisters named after Mediterranean islands to a wealthy perfectionist mother and her mute son, many of their sub-plots do end up tying together in the not-so-surprising ending.
As a “chronicle,” the book does feel episodic at times, hence why I imagined it as an anime. Because I have seen a lot of anime, the content of this book didn’t surprise me. There’s some weird stuff out there, and Japan seems to create quite a bit of it. While the sex and violence might be off-putting to some, it’s not necessarily erotic or graphic in its presentation; it is merely a fact of life. A strange life, to say the least, but a life nonetheless. Parts “slice of life,” “harem,” and “psychological thriller,” in terms of genre, The Wind-up Bird Chronicle is an excellent book for anyone already accustomed to Japanese storytelling.
A prime example of an almost “standard” Japanese plot, I give The Wind-up Bird Chronicle 3.5 stars out of 5.
After struggling my way through Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, I thought perhaps the next entry in the “Quirk Classics” line of books would be better. After all, it had a new co-author (alongside Jane Austen) and replaced the almost cliché zombie trope with the lesser-seen sea monster framing. Unfortunately, I once again found myself struggling through the archaic language of Austen’s time. Not only that, but I felt there was far too much talking and way too much nonsense, and that wasn’t even about the sea monsters. I’m starting to suspect that I just plain don’t like Jane Austen’s writing.
Half of the book is practically filled with young women swooning over eligible bachelors, learning that these bachelors are engaged or married, and then becoming depressed because of this revelation. If they spent less time gossiping and more time communicating, perhaps they wouldn’t have these problems. Of course, I realize that this was probably an artifact of the era in which the original Sense and Sensibility was written, but it all seems pretty “senseless” if you ask me. Speaking of senseless, this book certainly delivers on a lot of it, when it comes to the violence of the sea monsters.
As was the case with Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, I feel Austen’s prose holds back the potential for a much more interesting story. Practically steampunk in its underwater cities and rudimentary diving systems, if this book was an original story, I think it would have been much more interesting to read instead of having to slog through another Jane Austen novel. Of course, most people probably wouldn’t have picked up such a novel, because they wouldn’t know what it’s about. Modifying a Jane Austen story merely gets readers in the door, but it seems like a lazy solution to gain sales instead of a way to create an engaging narrative.
Another attempt at fusing Jane Austen with unnecessary violence, I give Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters 3.0 stars out of 5.
I don't know, maybe it's because I was reading this out loud to my daughter, but I just don't see what all the hubbub is. It was heavy-handed to me. There were some sweet spots, but overall I was underwhelmed.
Once again, I find that the source material on which a famous movie is based is equally as good and equally as famous. What strikes me as interesting is that the quick turn on some of these literary masterpieces from page to screen has largely remained unchanged. Gone with the Wind only took three years before its film debut, The Martian took four years, and Psycho only took one. Clearly, these stories are practically screaming to be made into movies, and most have done quite well as the cultural icons of their age.
Of course, having already seen the film on which this book was based, I was well aware of the twist ending. Nevertheless, reading through this book was almost enhanced by this a priori knowledge as one would probably not have guessed the twist if they were reading it for the very first time. There are just little hints here and there that something is off, but it’s not until close to the end that we find out that everything is not as it initially seemed. Even the visuals provided in the film version helped to aid my imagination in establishing the setting and characters.
And yet, as there always is, there are some differences in the book that did not make it into the movie. I wonder if Norman Bates was made a lot slimmer in the film partly due to Hitchcock’s portly frame. In the book, his overweight body adds a layer to the character (both literally and metaphorically) which helps flesh out (Har har. OK, I’ll stop) more of the explanations as to why Bates ended up this way. Much like One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, being able to get into the mind of Norman Bates was a fascinating examination of someone with a severe mental illness.
A fantastic read equally on par with the Hitchcock classic, I give Psycho 5.0 stars out of 5.
OK, I’ll be the first to admit that perhaps the audiobook version of this
story isn’t the best way to digest it. While I did appreciate the Irish
accent of the man who read this book, there really wasn’t much of a chance
to re-read sections that were quite confusing. As a result, I have no idea
what this book is about or what it was supposed to convey. I had a loose
understanding that it was based on Homer’s The Odyssey, which helped make a
few connections here and there, but I honestly can’t say that this parallel
between the plots of the two stories is obvious at all.
Perhaps the weakness I perceive in this story is due to its status as one of
the great pieces of modernist literature. If that’s the case, then I’ll
admit that I don’t understand modernist literature at all. None of it made
any sense at all. I would almost wager, at times, that Joyce was merely paid
by the word, thus explaining the numerous times he just listed off the names
of people, synonyms of words, or just rambled on until he made a couple extra
shillings. Of course, it could be that I expected a story to be present
instead of a loose string of poetic and complicated words. Maybe that’s the
link it shares with The Odyssey: both are epic poems (but for my money, I’d
read The Odyssey again in a heartbeat instead of this).
This is also not to mention the controversial topics that Joyce covers in
this book. From sex to religion and back to sex again, I wouldn’t say I
agree with his opinions on anything. For years I’ve heard that this is one
of the great stories of literature, but I can’t say I’m impressed. None
of it was particularly inspiring (the parts that made any sense, that is) and
if he had a point to make, it was lost on me. Again, I might get more out of
Ulysses if I was able to read it instead of listening to it, but as it stands
I don’t have any interest in reading this lengthy piece of nothingness
after having had to listen to it.
A disappointing and confusing piece of “literature”, I give Ulysses 1.0
stars out of 5
I grew up on the humor writings of Dave Barry. Each week I’d take his humor
column to school and read it to my friends during my lunch break, laughing at
his comedic style and funny topics. Consequently, I found myself enthralled
by his books, each one leaving me in stitches due to his observational humor
of the weird world around us (or at least around Miami, Florida). I was
saddened when he decided to retire from writing these weekly humor columns.
As such, each time he releases a new book full of his writings (mainly essays
now), I usually pick it up out of habit.
While I can usually blow through one of Dave Barry’s books in a couple
hours, I’m finding that I’m not nearly as amused as I used to be. It
could be that I’ve grown up a bit and no longer find boogers as funny as I
once did, but I think the issue lies at a deeper level of Dave’s writing.
Where his previous books written during his heyday were all essentially
centered around a common theme (Cyberspace, Japan, Aging, Home Repair, etc.)
recently his books have been whatever he’s done most recently. The problem
this creates is that each of the individual essays of the book is disjointed
from all the other ones.
Essentially, even though it would mean a much longer hiatus from Mr.
Barry’s humorous writing, I would enjoy his “themed” essay collections
more than the ones he’s put forward in most recent three books. In fact, he
could probably categorize them into three different books about international
travel, teenage daughters, and current homeland topics. As it is right now,
I’ll probably still buy Dave Barry’s books, but I’m not laughing as
much as I used to.
Another adequate collection of humorous essays by Dave Barry, I give Live
Right and Find Happiness 3.0 stars out of 5.
I was honestly surprised by this book. As has been the case with most
comedians and the books they have written, I expected this to be a bit of an
autobiography in the veins of Bossypants , Yes Please , The Bassoon King: My
Life in Art, Faith, and Idiocy , and Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me?
Instead, I was presented with a book filled with data, analysis, and
information about how modern relationships work when compared with the
relationships of past generations. Having gone through some of this “Modern
Romance” myself, I could certainly relate to the information being
presented, nodding my head in agreement as things I noticed suddenly had
explanations pinned to them.
But it wasn’t that the book was not an autobiography that surprised me, it
was the humorous way that Aziz Ansari managed to present this subject matter,
while also maintaining high scientific rigor. If I were to put this in a
category of non-fiction humor, it would probably be in the vein of I Am
America but without the tongue-in-cheek satire. Maybe I’m even wrong in
this characterization and it should fall under the collections of humor
around a single topic, like the works of Dave Barry. Either way, this book
was informative and not judgmental in the slightest. It was merely presenting
the facts that had been discovered, but in such a way that made me laugh
about the whole situation.
For those people who are in relationships, want to be in relationships, or
who just want to play the singles game, this book is an optimistic look at
what has changed, what is likely becoming the “norm”, and what we should
all expect from relationships in the future. Simply put, the smartphone has
complicated the world of romance, but it has also given a lot of benefit to
those who know how to use it as a tool to get what they want out of life. I
would almost encourage Ansari to continue writing books like this, because
his humor has made a somewhat dry subject a lot more palatable.
A great book that explores why the dating scene is so different now, I give
Modern Romance 4.0 stars out of 5.
As one of the few films in American history to win the “big 5” Academy
Awards (which are Best Picture, Director, Actor, Actress, and Screenplay), I
was interested in the book that helped One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest
attain its award-worthy status. I figured that if such a book could provide
such great content to win awards as a movie, it would certainly have artistic
merit in its own right. After all, many people posit that a book is better
than the movie it is made out of. I wanted to make sure that, at the very
least, it wasn’t any worse than the movie.
Perhaps the largest difference between the two versions of this story (I’m
not going to go into the live-theatre version, since I haven’t seen it), is
that the book has a very interesting narrator in the character of “Chief”
Bromden, whereas the film merely uses the camera to tell the story. Because
we get a glimpse into the mind of the deaf mute giant, he becomes not only a
subjective observer of the situation around him but also a vivid example of
what mental illness feels like. Instead of just focusing on the ways Randle
McMurphy bucks the stringent hospital system, we also get a sense of how
reality is filtered through a disabled mind.
As is usually the case with movie versions, I noticed a lot more content and
characters in the book version because it was likely these extraneous
elements were removed from the film for content and run-time issues. Still, I
wonder if the film would have had more of an impact on educating audiences
about mental illness if it included some of the Chief’s unique
observations. Either way, both the film and the book are excellent pieces of
art, even if it may be a little difficult to swallow at times that these
mental hospital practices have only recently been changed for the better.
An excellent book that spawned an excellent movie, I give One Flew Over the
Cuckoo’s Nest 4.5 stars out of 5.
I grew up on Bill Nye’s science show on PBS. I appreciated his
straightforward approach to teaching science to children that was both
informative and humorous. Possibly in part due to this, I now find myself
with a Master’s degree in Mechanical Engineering and employed in a very
technical field. I also find myself writing books which are surreptitiously
educational, hoping that the entertainment value of my writing will subtly
inspire people to learn more about science. Consequently, merely based on the
author of this book, I was interested in reading it, despite the somewhat
vague and ambiguous title.
While there was plenty of very interesting material presented in this book,
much of it I had already known about by keeping up with the technological
advances of the world today, I felt like its order was a little off. Right
from the get-go, Nye hammers home that global climate change is a problem.
The entire rest of the book then explores technologies and developments that
could potentially solve, or at least abet the rapid rate of change leading to
our soon-to-be unsustainable world. As a result, there’s a bit of fear
introduced from the beginning that is tugged on throughout. I would have
flipped these topics around and shown all the neat scientific breakthroughs
(or near breakthroughs) we have in our current world, then use the knowledge
of these advancements to address the climate change issue. In this way, I
think the tone would be more inspiring and lead more people to pursue the
solutions instead of being alarmist and driving people to act out of fear
instead of out of the hope of what our future could be if we act now.
Nye’s trademark humor is sprinkled throughout his writing, which made
reading this book enjoyable. Furthermore, since he takes a very personal
approach with his examples and stories (I love his “love/hate”
relationship with Ed Begley Jr.), many of his opinions leak through. Many
times throughout the book, these opinions came off to me as a bit
off-putting, especially if the person reading this book happens to be of an
opinion differing from Nye’s. As such, there was a bit of “preaching to
the choir” that might not be helpful when trying to change the minds of
those who don’t share the same opinions. Still, his attempts at re-framing
the problem of global climate change and adjusting how we think about it were
quite admirable and I think everyone should give his ideas a chance.
A tale of both imminent danger and inspiration, I give Unstoppable 3.5 stars
out of 5.
The first time I was introduced to Alan Glynn’s writing was through the
film, Limitless (2011), which itself was based off his first novel, The Dark
Fields. While I enjoyed the film for its visuals, what really struck me as
interesting was the storytelling and characters Glynn created. Now fifteen
years after his first standalone novel, Paradime continues to show Glynn’s
talent in creating engaging plots and characters. Since I really enjoyed this
book, I will do my best to review it without spoiling it for anyone.
At its most simple level, Paradime is a modernized retelling of Mark
Twain’s The Prince and the Pauper, or at least half of it anyway. Told from
the perspective of an out-of-work and out-of-luck cook, Danny Lynch, the
pacing of each of the three acts is steady and intense. Even if some of
Danny’s vocabulary seems a little advanced at times, he is the perfect
“everyman” to convey his peculiar circumstances to the reader. Those
familiar with Limitless will probably see many parallels between the two
stories, with the main exception being how the story ends for Danny.
Glynn’s writing style is very natural and easy to read in this modern
thriller. Each chapter left me wanting to read more and I found myself having
difficulty stopping because the pull of the plot was so intense. I also
appreciated the ability of Glynn to tie things up in an almost unexpectedly
expected way so that no detail in this book was left unused. While this may
have been the first time I’ve read anything by Alan Glynn, I am now
certainly a fan and will have to go back and pick up his other books to read.
A fast-paced and thrilling read, I give Paradime 5.0 stars out of 5.
If you’ve been following along recently, you’ll know that I’ve been on
a bit of a “movie” kick when it comes to the audiobooks I’ve listened
to. While there are plenty of movies based on books, I haven’t really been
one to read novelizations of movies. That being said, I’ve found the
writing style in my own novels to be a bit of a novelization of the ideas in
my mind, since I usually try and describe scenes in a cinematic way. At any
rate, I was expecting a story that held close to the film, and this book
certainly delivered on that promise.
I’ll admit that the more I think about the plot and characters of The Force
Awakens, the more I find that it almost exactly matches the events of A New
Hope. However, there were some weaknesses in the first installment of the
Star Wars franchise that I feel are addressed in this recent installment.
Sure, all the elements are there, but they’ve been mixed around into
different characters, settings, and conflicts that add a bit more depth to
the story than the archetypical one presented in A New Hope. As a reboot, The
Force Awakens does an excellent job of calling back to what made the original
great, but doing so in a way that is still different enough to provide
interesting twists and questions.
One thing I do like about this version of the story, compared to the movie,
is the “deleted scenes” that help explain some of the plot holes from the
film. Maybe these scenes hindered the flow of the movie (or weren’t
important enough to include) but they certainly helped me understand the
story a lot better now that I know about them. Finally, while I know that
many films have “enhanced audio” for blind people, I’d almost recommend
these people listen to this audiobook instead. The music, sound effects, and
even many of the actors’ voices all are used at a pace that’s much slower
in order to really grasp what’s happening with the story.
A fantastic audiobook that faithfully captures everything (and more) that
made the film great, I give Star Wars: The Force Awakens 4.5 stars out of 5.
One of the nice things about listening to audiobooks from my library (via the
Overdrive app), is that I can pick up a book and listen to it without really
knowing what it’s about other than a title and a cover. In this way, I
often have no preconceived notions about the book other than first
impressions. At this point, all I’m giving up to “read” the book is the
time it takes me to listen to it, and I have plenty of that driving to and
from work every day.
Since I had no idea what this book was really about, I was surprised at how
humorous it was. If I were to combine a few, better-known series together,
I’d say this is X-Men mixed with James Bond, with just a dash of Jason
Bourne all blended together in Monty Python’s Flying Circus. An odd
combination, I know. But somehow, it works here. The humor is markedly
British, but the characters and their powers are supernatural, to say the
least. Since this was merely the first in a developing series, I can’t wait
to get to book #2: Stiletto.
All this being said, there were a few structural choices to this book that I
often found confusing, which may just be part of listening to it in audiobook
form instead of reading it. First off, the decision to have the main
character afflicted with amnesia was an interesting way to essentially give
the audience what the character already would have known but had conveniently
forgotten. Secondly, because the letters from her former self were used as
backstory, these “flashbacks” were often confusing because it was easy to
lose track of which Mfwany Thomas (glad I had the audiobook for the
pronunciation of this name) was “speaking” at the moment.
An interesting premise with plenty of potential in future iterations, I give
The Rook 4.0 stars out of 5.
Unlike Practical Applications for Multiverse Theory, The Infinity of You & Me
really nails the complex and unique challenges of dealing with multiple
universes. Far more serious than its comedic counterpart, Infinity takes the
reader on a journey through the multiple lives of a teenage girl. The
descriptive writing used for this task was quite adept at conveying the
transition between worlds, as well as the numerous dystopian scenarios
present within them. Clearly, the Sylvia Plath poems the main character holds
dear also influenced the author’s writing style.
As I’ve said before, I’m not a fan of the young adult genre, especially
when it devolves to cliches. This book managed to reside in that young adult
genre, but successfully told a story that didn’t make me roll my eyes in
annoyance. Sure, the elements were there, but they were handled much more
subtly, almost in the vein of how The Hunger Games did it years ago. The
complexity of the internal struggle of the main character really made her
come alive. Her growth by the end of the book was significant and made me
enjoy reading this book.
While it’s almost perfect, there are still a few weaknesses in this book.
Early on, it was difficult for me to figure out that the other multiverse
worlds were taking place in the same timeframe, and not in the past.
Furthermore, there were some sections that didn’t make as much sense as I
would have liked, but I suspect that’s also a limitation of dealing with
the multiverse as your main topic. Despite all these things, the story is
solid and the characters are complex and understandable.
Perhaps the best fictional account of the multiverse I’ve ever read, I give
The Infinity of You & Me 4.5 stars out of 5.
While I saw the movie before listening to the audiobook, I must say that I
still really enjoy the main character. He’s one of those guys you love to
hate, but he’s trying so hard to do the right thing, even if it means
defending a scumbag who deserves a lot worse. Of course, since I had seen the
movie already, I had an idea how it was going to end, but couldn’t remember
the specifics. Perhaps that’s a measure of a great crime drama: all the
misdirection makes it difficult to know “whodunit”, allowing future
rereads to be enjoyable.
But, back to the main character, Mickey Haller, I think one of the reasons
this book was a breeze to listen to was because the main character’s POV is
so well written. You can tell that he has some baggage from his father, which
is partly why he defends everyone, regardless if they’re guilty or not. The
fact that Haller knows his way around the legal system and uses it to his
advantage to even get the guilty an innocent ruling just shows that he takes
pride in his work, even if it labels him as someone who keeps the crime on
the streets.
The plus to this audiobook was also the narrator, who was awesome in bringing
all the different characters to life with his voice acting. Even if the story
is told from the point of view of the eponymous “Lincoln Lawyer,” there
are plenty of interesting people in this book, and each one certainly has a
different “sound” to them. It’s the attention to these details that
differentiates a narrator just reading a book to you and a voice actor who
can bring the events happening in the words he’s speaking to life.
A great start to an interesting crime drama series, I give The Lincoln Lawyer
4.0 stars out of 5.
Another book, another trial for the Lincoln Lawyer. While I appreciated the
stand-alone nature of this book, I also liked that knowledge of the events in
the first book of this sub-series helped to provide context for the
challenges Mickey Haller now faces. The main case of this novel was pretty
predictable, especially if you read into the insinuation of the title. I
would have liked a little more attention on the side-case surrounding the
death of Haller’s lawyer colleague. It seemed to be more of a Harry Bosch
story, though, so I can understand why the focus was on Haller’s case.
Once again, Michael Connelly creates an easily readable series of events that
unfold in the courtroom. Some twists at the end were exciting developments
but were definitely easily guessed if the reader was paying attention.
There’s almost a guilty pleasure in following Haller along as he embeds
that reasonable doubt into the jury’s minds. Something about the justice
system being used to make absolutely sure someone is innocent or guilty just
sits right, even if it’s in the defense of a completely unlikeable
character. This character’s final fate was equally as satisfying, even if
it wasn’t in court.
As noted above, my only qualm with the novel was that it seemed to be only
one side of the story. While we followed Mickey Haller, there was another
story unfolding with Harry Bosch that probably could have filled up another
volume. There was a lot that Bosch did behind the scenes that made his story
also seem quite interesting, even if it wasn’t expressed in these pages.
The connection between these two characters at the end of the book was also
nice, and I am curious how often Bosch will come back into play in future
Mickey Haller books.
A straightforward courtroom drama with predictable twists, I give The Brass
Verdict 3.5 stars out of 5.
After two novels of Mickey Haller defending guilty scumbags, Michael Connelly
changes it up with The Reversal. Not only does the title refer to the
reversal of a 24-year old conviction, but also to the main character’s swap
over to the prosecution. While there seems to have been a book between this
one and The Brass Verdict, I have a feeling it was mostly about Harry Bosch,
since the hinted details in this book give me a good idea of what happened
and it didn’t change the last reference point of Mickey Haller.
Now that these two main characters were tied together in this case, one of
the issues I had with this book was how often it switched between first and
third person POVs. Perhaps I was too used to the story being told from Mickey
Haller’s perspective and there was so much that happened outside of his
direct involvement that it was necessary. However, there were times where
Haller was present in the scene and it seemed to switch between the two POVs
somewhat inconsistently, adding to my confusion as to who was speaking. I
only hope the next book in the series focuses more on Haller than splitting
the time between him and Bosch.
Furthermore, while I did appreciate the change of Haller being a part of the
prosecution team with his ex-wife, the story unfolded much in the same way
the others had. Most of the trial was pretty predictable with the twists
being easily recognized well before they were revealed. The unpredictable
ending is almost part of the template now, so even though it was an exciting
development, I had come to expect it.
Another Michael Connelly standard with a few changes to make it interesting,
I give The Reversal 3.5 stars out of 5.
In the fourth installment of The Lincoln Lawyer series, The Fifth Witness
follows Mickey Haller as he navigates another murder trial. This time, the
real scenario of the foreclosure crisis is brought in to help set the stage
for the trial. Using a historical event like this helped to bring the story
together in a way that felt more real and relatable than the previous entries
in the series. Most Americans I know who were affected by the housing market
crash would certainly be entertained by this story of corruption and
underhanded dealings, if for no other reason than to justify how screwed up
the system is.
Gone from this part of the series is detective Harry Bosch, who I felt
distracted from the main storyline centering around Mickey Haller and his
court battle in the previous two books of this series. This time, it’s all
Mickey. What helped to make this book stand out from the rest was the amount
of soul-searching and character development our favorite defense lawyer does
throughout the events unfolding around this trial. Because of his work as a
defense attorney, it was easy for him to become cynical, thus making his
aloof attitude more entertaining than endearing. This time around, he starts
to become self-aware and sees that his life isn’t heading in the direction
he wants.
I appreciated the slight bit of meta-humor in this book, not only in its
title but considering it came out around the same time as The Lincoln Lawyer
(2011) movie. And while some of the numerous “sudden evidence” events for
the trial was a bit of a cheap way to add twists to the story, Connelly
expertly hid the true twist ending until the final moments of the book,
something that was somewhat missing from earlier parts of the series. With an
interesting nod toward some future storylines, I felt The Fifth Witness is
the strongest entry in the series so far.
A great courtroom drama pulled straight from the housing crisis, I give The
Fifth Witness 4.0 stars out of 5.
In another “lapse” of my reading habits, I didn’t manage to read
Ender’s Game until the movie of the same name came out in 2013. At the
time, all the sci-fi fans were eagerly anticipating a film that had taken
over 25 years to finally become a reality. While I thought the movie was
quite well done and engaging, after I read the book, I can understand why
some of the diehard fans of the series were disappointed. As is usually the
case with book-to-movie transitions, sub-plots often find themselves on the
cutting room floor. Of course, I don’t blame them for cutting what they
did; after all, it is called Ender’s Game.
Even though watching the movie first spoiled the exciting twist of the ending
when I read the book, I almost read the book differently knowing how it would
turn out. I could see the signs leading up to the shocking reveal, almost as
if I had read it before. I did appreciate the sub-plot with Ender’s
siblings and their efforts back on Earth as their brother was winning the war
in space. If anything, it helped to break up the intense action surrounding
the eponymous main character so that the reader could fully absorb what was
happening in the universe on a political level as well as a military one.
It is disappointing that there will likely be no more movies in this series
since the source material is full of interesting ideas that I’d like to see
on the big screen. Perhaps the series would be better suited for a television
show (a la Game of Thrones) to fully include all the different elements that
made it a classic of sci-fi back in 1985. Either way, I look forward to
exploring more of Orson Scott Card’s universe in the next book of the
series: Speaker for the Dead.
A fantastic sci-fi story with an incredible twist ending, I give Ender’s
Game 5.0 stars out of 5.
What a world we live in! It’s exciting to see a self-published book receive
such attention, eventually becoming a New York Times bestseller! Truly, if a
writer is talented enough with a good enough story, they can make it in this
over-saturated market. And while some of my love for this book comes from my
hopes of eventually being “discovered” as a self-published author, most
of it comes from my love of scientific realism in fiction. Truly, this is
more of a challenge than world-building in a fantasy genre, because in order
for it to be believable, it must obey the laws of physics.
But let’s get down to brass tacks here. There is no doubt that Andy Weir
did his homework on this book. In fact, some sections almost read like the
output section of a very complicated spreadsheet (which I certainly
appreciate, on a personal level). Even with the technical detail to keep the
story grounded in science, the successive cause-and-effect events that
eventually lead to the climax of the story give the reader equal amounts of
elation and heartbreak right along with the protagonist, Mark Watney. Still,
the problem solving accomplished in this novel merely proves how smart we are
as a species today, and how the vast knowledge of the universe has catapulted
us into the very realistic scenario portrayed in the pages. In fact, Weir’s
methodical approach really gives the reader a scale of how big an operation a
trip to (or from) Mars would be.
Even though the science is front and center, the whole reason we read these
almost intimate logs of a Martian astronaut is because the characters are so
well written. With a humor and spunky attitude that help alleviate his dire
situation, Watney almost comes across as a genius “everyman” in that most
of his solutions could be arrived at with a little bit of thought and
ingenuity. And while the majority of the book centers around Watney’s logs,
every minor character has a depth and expertise that helps to propel the
story forward.
A fast and fun read full of excitement and ingenious science solutions, I
give The Martian 5.0 stars out of 5.
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