I love the books being written for children today. The characters are good, honest, clever, witty, resourceful and resilient, and they have a well developed sense of right and wrong. But they also have all the real insecurities and frustrations of real youth, so even in stories told in fantasy settings the characters are real and easy to identify with. This is good news not just for kids, but also for grownups who like a good read. You can write down to most adults and get away with it, but you cannot write down to kids. Kids are far too smart for that. I like series which balance escapist adventure with real-life emotions and imperfections, which give me a protagonist I can cheer for. Author R.L. LaFevers has created such a character.
It's 1906, and eleven year old Theodosia Throckmorton (I love that name!) has her hands full. Her father is head curator of London's Museum of legends and Antiquities, and her mother is returning from an archaeological dig in Egypt. Theo has a unique talent: she can see the black magic and ancient curses surrounding the museum's artifacts. Her parents love her, but often get so wrapped up in their work that they forget it is time to go home, or even time to eat, so Theo fends for herself, and sometimes her little brother when he's not away at boarding school. She reads ancient texts and learns how to remove those curses, and does a pretty good job of it - until her mother returns with The Heart of Egypt, which carries a curse more vile than anything Theo has encountered, a curse which threatens to crumble the British Empire and start an unimaginably terrible war. Our intrepid heroine won't let that happen. She is both aided and thwarted by secret societies both good and evil, her cat Isis, her younger brother Henry, street urchins Sticky Will and his brothers Snuffles and Ratsy, her stoic Grandmother Throckmorton who believes Theo needs a firmer hand if she is ever to learn how to behave like a proper young lady, and other museum employees whose loyalties are sometimes in question.
Does that sound like too many characters to keep track of? It is not. The author has created a lovable and courageous heroine in her trilogy and her supporting cast is as uniquely voiced as she is. But it is Theodosia who shines: part Nancy Drew, part Indiana Jones, part Elizabeth Peters' Amelia Peabody, with maybe a bit of Percy Jackson thrown in to the mix. Three times Theodosia saves the British Empire: in Theodosia and the Serpents of Chaos, Theodosia and the Staff of Osiris, and just released this year, Theodosia and the Eyes of Horus. She does this while feeling that no one is truly listening to her or believing in her, and uncertain of her parents' love for her, but finding within herself a way to use her talents to do the right thing. As I've stated in previous posts about other characters, because it is the right thing to do, even if no one else believes it to be so. I hope the latest in the trilogy won't be the last we see of Theodosia. It would be a good place to say goodbye, as she becomes a little more self assured and the adults in her life come to appreciate and accept her for who she is (something us adults are reluctant to admit even we hope for) - but I do hope that Theodosia isn't quite done saving the Empire, nor stimulating imaginations of children and adults alike.
Book 1:
Book 2:
Book 3:
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Monday, June 7, 2010
Well, I did it. I bought an ereader.
After months of making comparisons, from manufacturer's patting-themselves-on-the-back claims, to computer magazine reports to use comments on various store websites, to actually holding a couple of them (Amazon's Kindle and Barnes & Noble's Nook), price, overall design, prettiness, and finally deciding which of those wonderful features I would actually use, I placed an order.
And who won? Newcomer to the ereader world, Borders Bookstore's "Kobo".
The simplest of the readers, and tying with Ectaco's Jetbook Lite in price, it appeared to do what I want it to do: store books in an electronic form and allow me to take my favorites hither and yon. The Jetbook offered more formats, in fact, more formats than any other reader I investigated, but in reality, many of those formats are somewhat obscure, and I could find no books offered exclusively in those lesser known formats. The more-formats-than-anyone-else would be a great option for those who have ebooks bought ten years ago.
Kobo, on the other hand, offers readability to only three formats: PDF, ePUB, and Adobe DRM. Lest anyone think that is a drawback, consider that nearly all ebooks, both public domain and current sellers, are offered in at least one of those top formats. The Kobo doesn't have the wireless capabilities of both Kindles, the Nook, or Sony's top two readers. But neither does Sony's Pocket Reader, their cheapest model, which had been my first choice before the Kobo was announced. When I was considering whether or not this was a selling point, I realized I would be doing the greater part of my browsing and buying on my home computer, anyway, so wireless technology was a $50 option I didn't need.
I cannot "lend" my books to others, as the Nook offers - but none of my friends own a Nook, anyway, and my favorite books I generally buy extra copies of, anyway, to actually give to those I figure will love them as I do. I cannot, at least at the present time, use the Kobo to borrow books from the public library, which was the one point that gave me pause to consider Sony and Nook instead. But looking at what the library is currently offering for lending, that is a service I might not have been using, anyway, no matter how cool it is. And given that the Kobo uses quite similar technologies and interfaces, perhaps the library will offer that option in the near future (as well as offering a wider selection of books I, one of their most loyal patrons, desires!)
Now for the only real drawback: The Kobo, being so newly announced, isn't yet in stores. I pre-ordered mine on the 2nd on June, "for delivery July 2nd". I have nearly a month to wait. Theoretically, I can wait that long; after all, I've been contemplating this purchase for eight or nine months. However, now that my decision has been made... well, I am like a small child eagerly awaiting a birthday. "How much longer? Oh, man!" Pray for me, friends - I need your strength!
And who won? Newcomer to the ereader world, Borders Bookstore's "Kobo".
The simplest of the readers, and tying with Ectaco's Jetbook Lite in price, it appeared to do what I want it to do: store books in an electronic form and allow me to take my favorites hither and yon. The Jetbook offered more formats, in fact, more formats than any other reader I investigated, but in reality, many of those formats are somewhat obscure, and I could find no books offered exclusively in those lesser known formats. The more-formats-than-anyone-else would be a great option for those who have ebooks bought ten years ago.
Kobo, on the other hand, offers readability to only three formats: PDF, ePUB, and Adobe DRM. Lest anyone think that is a drawback, consider that nearly all ebooks, both public domain and current sellers, are offered in at least one of those top formats. The Kobo doesn't have the wireless capabilities of both Kindles, the Nook, or Sony's top two readers. But neither does Sony's Pocket Reader, their cheapest model, which had been my first choice before the Kobo was announced. When I was considering whether or not this was a selling point, I realized I would be doing the greater part of my browsing and buying on my home computer, anyway, so wireless technology was a $50 option I didn't need.
I cannot "lend" my books to others, as the Nook offers - but none of my friends own a Nook, anyway, and my favorite books I generally buy extra copies of, anyway, to actually give to those I figure will love them as I do. I cannot, at least at the present time, use the Kobo to borrow books from the public library, which was the one point that gave me pause to consider Sony and Nook instead. But looking at what the library is currently offering for lending, that is a service I might not have been using, anyway, no matter how cool it is. And given that the Kobo uses quite similar technologies and interfaces, perhaps the library will offer that option in the near future (as well as offering a wider selection of books I, one of their most loyal patrons, desires!)
Now for the only real drawback: The Kobo, being so newly announced, isn't yet in stores. I pre-ordered mine on the 2nd on June, "for delivery July 2nd". I have nearly a month to wait. Theoretically, I can wait that long; after all, I've been contemplating this purchase for eight or nine months. However, now that my decision has been made... well, I am like a small child eagerly awaiting a birthday. "How much longer? Oh, man!" Pray for me, friends - I need your strength!
Sunday, June 6, 2010
A thief is a lot like a wizard...
Sarah Prineas has created a wonderful fantasy world in her Magic Thief series. Begun in 2008, and concluding (?) with this year's third installment, the series tells the story of Connwaer, a young pickpocket who gets more than he bargained for when he picks the pocket of an old man and pulls out a stone. He quickly realizes the man whose pocket he just picked is a wizard, and the stone is a locus magicalicus - the stone a wizard uses to focus his magic. The wizard Nevery quickly discovers the theft and is intrigued by the fact that the boy was not instantly killed when he laid his hand upon the magic stone, as he ought to have been. So the magician, returning to the city of Wellmet after a long exile, reluctantly takes in the gutterboy as his apprentice. Conn turns out to be more than an ordinary thief, and while Nevery soon learns that the boy might have a certain aptitude for magic, he's not ordinary in that regard, either.
Conn is one of the most heroic characters in juvenile literature, perhaps in all literature, I have ever read. One of the reasons I generally prefer juvenile literature over grown-up literature is the motivations of the characters. In so-called adult literature, the protagonists often do the right thing to impress someone, or to advance a career, for money or power, or simply because page one defines them as the hero, and no other reason. In juvenile literature, for the most part, the hero (or heroine) does the right thing because, well, it is the right thing! Sure, they have the same desires to be accepted, admired, followed - but when everything and everyone turns against them, they do the right thing because it is their nature to do so. And Conn is the epitome of this personality.
The Duchess of Wellmet and the city's other wizards, the magisters (who were responsible for banishing Nevery twenty years prior) aren't too happy with Nevery's return, and less happy and less trusting of his new apprentice, especially when Conn tried to take a jewel set in the Duchess's crown. Conn cannot help that - the jewel turns out to be his own locus magicalicus, and a magician cannot resist when his own stone "calls" to him. Even though the other wizards know this is so, they don't believe Conn is anything more than a common thief. Nevertheless, they do know that there is something wrong with the city's magic; it is declining at an alarming rate and they cannot figure out why.
Conn doesn't know, either, but he has some ideas. He believes that the magic is a living entity, and even without a locus to focus his energies with, he can to a certain degree communicate with that magic. Not even Nevery believes him on this point, but here is what makes Conn such an endearing hero: Conn knows what he knows, and he never gives up, not even when his own life is in danger, and his mortality is in peril a number of times in each of the three books. Conn is also honest, almost to a fault, and he is fiercely loyal and self-sacrificing. It is these traits that gradually earn him respect, albeit begrudging respect from some. Rounding out the main cast is Kerrn, captain of the guard; Rowan, the Duchess's daughter who is handy with a sword; and Benet, Nevery's rough looking, gruff sounding bodyguard who enjoys knitting and baking biscuits in his spare time. By the end of book three Conn has completely won over these people and a score of others, including much of the city's criminal element.
Conn will win you over, too.
Book 1:
Book 2:
Book 3:
Conn is one of the most heroic characters in juvenile literature, perhaps in all literature, I have ever read. One of the reasons I generally prefer juvenile literature over grown-up literature is the motivations of the characters. In so-called adult literature, the protagonists often do the right thing to impress someone, or to advance a career, for money or power, or simply because page one defines them as the hero, and no other reason. In juvenile literature, for the most part, the hero (or heroine) does the right thing because, well, it is the right thing! Sure, they have the same desires to be accepted, admired, followed - but when everything and everyone turns against them, they do the right thing because it is their nature to do so. And Conn is the epitome of this personality.
The Duchess of Wellmet and the city's other wizards, the magisters (who were responsible for banishing Nevery twenty years prior) aren't too happy with Nevery's return, and less happy and less trusting of his new apprentice, especially when Conn tried to take a jewel set in the Duchess's crown. Conn cannot help that - the jewel turns out to be his own locus magicalicus, and a magician cannot resist when his own stone "calls" to him. Even though the other wizards know this is so, they don't believe Conn is anything more than a common thief. Nevertheless, they do know that there is something wrong with the city's magic; it is declining at an alarming rate and they cannot figure out why.
Conn doesn't know, either, but he has some ideas. He believes that the magic is a living entity, and even without a locus to focus his energies with, he can to a certain degree communicate with that magic. Not even Nevery believes him on this point, but here is what makes Conn such an endearing hero: Conn knows what he knows, and he never gives up, not even when his own life is in danger, and his mortality is in peril a number of times in each of the three books. Conn is also honest, almost to a fault, and he is fiercely loyal and self-sacrificing. It is these traits that gradually earn him respect, albeit begrudging respect from some. Rounding out the main cast is Kerrn, captain of the guard; Rowan, the Duchess's daughter who is handy with a sword; and Benet, Nevery's rough looking, gruff sounding bodyguard who enjoys knitting and baking biscuits in his spare time. By the end of book three Conn has completely won over these people and a score of others, including much of the city's criminal element.
Conn will win you over, too.
Book 1:
Book 2:
Book 3:
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Written for....
I love book dedications. It's always interesting to read the list of people who helped an author bring a story to life, but better still, is seeing who that one special person was who merited an especial thank you, the dedication. Parents and spouses are most common, it seems, followed closely by sons and daughters. Some people are mentioned by name only, and we the readers are left to wonder who Alice, Frank, Hector or Jane is. Someone special enough to warrant a whole dedication, for reasons known only to the writer and presumably the person so named. These are good dedications, and meaningful to both the dedicated to and the dedicated from. But some dedications suggest a story behind the story, and these are my favorites.
In some dedications, not only is thanks given, but the reason why is, and that, to me, makes the dedication more personal. Brandon Mull's Fablehaven was written "For Mary, who made writing possible." Anne Fadiman's collection of essays on reading, Ex Libris: Confessions of a Common Reader, was penned "For Clifton Fadiman and Annalee Jacoby Fadiman, who built my ancestral castles." Dragon Flight by Jessica Day George was written for the author's small child, "my own curious little monkey, who already loves books and whose naps made it possible for this one to be written." Holly Black's The Spiderwick Chronicles apparently was written in spite of itself: "For my grandmother Melvina, who said I should write a book just like this one and to whom I replied that I never would." I'd really like to know the story behind Diane Duane's dedication in the second of her Young Wizards series, Deep Wizardry: "For J.A.C. re: redemption, and fried zucchini".
Others say "thank you" in a uniquely personal way. Jessica Day George took a Norwegian folk tale "East of the Sun, West of the Moon" and wrote Sun and Moon, Ice and Snow, telling her parents: "You gave me life, you gave me love, you gave me a ticket to Norway. Thank you." Derek Landy, in writing Skulduggery Pleasant, wanted to express a similar sentiment to his parents, but perhaps he struggled a bit in finding the proper words: "I owe you absolutely everything, and y'know, I suppose it's entirely possible that I feel some, like, degree of affection toward the two of you..." Dean Lorey, author of Nightmare Academy, found that a simple statement works well: "For my wife, Elizabeth, and our sons, Chris and Alex. I love you guys."
R.L. LaFevers wrote her first two books in her Theodosia Throckmorton series to named individuals but also to general groups, who might seem familiar to her readers. Theodosia and the Serpents of Chaos was written in part "To clever girls everywhere who get tired of feeling like no one's listening"; Theodosia and the Staff of Osiris was written "For odd ducks everywhere. Remember, 'odd duck' is just another name for a swan."
Okay, true confession time. I'm a hopeless romantic. Or is that helpless romantic? Whatever. My two favorite book dedications come from books I read in the past year. Sarah Beth Durst, in taking the same Norwegian folk tale that Jessica Day George had, and giving it a contemporary setting in Ice, wrote "For my husband Adam, with love. I would go east of the sun and west of the moon for you." And Sarah Prineas dedicated her third Magic Thief book Found "To John, pretty much the best husband in the world."
Dedications like that are almost of themselves worth the price of the book.
In some dedications, not only is thanks given, but the reason why is, and that, to me, makes the dedication more personal. Brandon Mull's Fablehaven was written "For Mary, who made writing possible." Anne Fadiman's collection of essays on reading, Ex Libris: Confessions of a Common Reader, was penned "For Clifton Fadiman and Annalee Jacoby Fadiman, who built my ancestral castles." Dragon Flight by Jessica Day George was written for the author's small child, "my own curious little monkey, who already loves books and whose naps made it possible for this one to be written." Holly Black's The Spiderwick Chronicles apparently was written in spite of itself: "For my grandmother Melvina, who said I should write a book just like this one and to whom I replied that I never would." I'd really like to know the story behind Diane Duane's dedication in the second of her Young Wizards series, Deep Wizardry: "For J.A.C. re: redemption, and fried zucchini".
Others say "thank you" in a uniquely personal way. Jessica Day George took a Norwegian folk tale "East of the Sun, West of the Moon" and wrote Sun and Moon, Ice and Snow, telling her parents: "You gave me life, you gave me love, you gave me a ticket to Norway. Thank you." Derek Landy, in writing Skulduggery Pleasant, wanted to express a similar sentiment to his parents, but perhaps he struggled a bit in finding the proper words: "I owe you absolutely everything, and y'know, I suppose it's entirely possible that I feel some, like, degree of affection toward the two of you..." Dean Lorey, author of Nightmare Academy, found that a simple statement works well: "For my wife, Elizabeth, and our sons, Chris and Alex. I love you guys."
R.L. LaFevers wrote her first two books in her Theodosia Throckmorton series to named individuals but also to general groups, who might seem familiar to her readers. Theodosia and the Serpents of Chaos was written in part "To clever girls everywhere who get tired of feeling like no one's listening"; Theodosia and the Staff of Osiris was written "For odd ducks everywhere. Remember, 'odd duck' is just another name for a swan."
Okay, true confession time. I'm a hopeless romantic. Or is that helpless romantic? Whatever. My two favorite book dedications come from books I read in the past year. Sarah Beth Durst, in taking the same Norwegian folk tale that Jessica Day George had, and giving it a contemporary setting in Ice, wrote "For my husband Adam, with love. I would go east of the sun and west of the moon for you." And Sarah Prineas dedicated her third Magic Thief book Found "To John, pretty much the best husband in the world."
Dedications like that are almost of themselves worth the price of the book.
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