Book: Zazen

Author: Vanessa Veselka

Published: May 31, 2011 by Red Lemonade; 256 pages

Date Read: February 6, 2012

First Lines: ”I went to work and a guy I wait on said he was leaving. He said everyone he knew was pulling out.”

Genre: Literary fiction

Amy’s rating: 5/5  Buzz Lightyears lashed to miniature graveside crosses

Susie’s rating: 5/5 candy-colored rat phones

Warning: Extreme gushing about how much we loved this book ahead. Amy and I were both fairly bowled over by Ms. Veselka’s debut novel. Also, I was having a sad because I had to trim down our conversation about Zazen, because we had many things to say about it and it’s super fun talking to Amy about books. So, I’ve decided to post an extended version(!) of our conversation here, just in case some of you would like to see more about what we had to say. Everything that is down below is also on the extended post, so you don’t have to read both if you don’t want to!

Vanessa Veselka describes herself as having been, at various times, a teenage runaway, a sex-worker, a union organizer, a student of paleontology, an expatriate, an independent record label owner, a train-hopper, a waitress, and a mother–is it any wonder that she is also a writer? She fills Zazen to the brim with life and it bubbles over in streams of achingly beautiful language. Zazen tells the story of Della, a geologist/waitress who wants to get away from everything. She hears bombs in her head and can’t escape the monuments to shiny plastic capitalism that keep going up where she lives. When she hooks up with a girl named Jimmy who is leaving the country, Della buys a ticket, too. But she doesn’t go–instead, she starts calling in bomb threats, mentally attacking the places that threaten her neighborhood. She finds herself in deeper than she ever imagined when the real bombs start going off in places she’s called.

Amy: We both loved, loved, loved it! Best book I’ve read so far this year, by far.
Susie: I’m also so glad that we read it. I was enchanted (as much as you can be enchanted by a book that is about terrorism and war and hippies).
Amy: Almost every line was a poem in itself. I’m going to try to find the one, early on, that hooked me.
Susie: I loved her use of imagery. During the “anniversary” scene she talked about Della’s mother in terms of a tsunami–ocean imagery is dicey because it can be so overdone, but hers was perfect.

“Grace rose from the table like a tsunami. With her breath she washed away the debris of the past until we were all floating in her massive sorrow and buoyed by her absolute conviction in life, vibrant and wild on the shores, she carried us forward and that’s how we landed, all of us on this strange beach.” –Zazen

Amy: Bah, I can’t find the specific line, annoying. One I did find: “I had been kissing the hems of ghosts.” *swoon* Gorgeous.
Amy: Her use of language and imagery is masterful. The recurring themes of the self-immolators, the pregnant rat, her sister, the ocean… so many common (and often ugly) things, but made beautiful with her language around them.
Susie: I identified a lot with this book because it is about how ugly things have gotten–and it is frustrating. It’s compelling to follow someone who is acting on her frustration. Veselka said in an interview that she was trying to capture a culture, I think in this case the revolutionary/neo-hippie culture, but also contrasted against our mainstream consumerism.

 ”… what is this book? Hmm … another Buddhist geological thriller? A secular spiritual epic? You know, just the other day in a radio interview I actually failed to describe my own book. It was a low point. … One day I was listening to an English professor talk about encyclopedic fiction. He defined it as a work that attempts to encapsulate an entire culture. I immediately realized that’s what I was trying to do.” — Vanessa Veselka in an interview with Literary Kicks

Amy: That’s interesting. It did make me think of that – what the 60s protesters would be, were they around now. How they would use modern technology to their advantage, what they would protest against, how they would go about getting their point across.
Amy: It’s a frightening book, because it’s just vague enough that it could very much happen, and any day now, you know? No details for us to grab onto to say, “Oh, well, that couldn’t happen because THAT person wasn’t president,” etc. She purposely left everything vague so it could be us, in an indeterminate future. Chilling.

Susie: I loved the subtlety of her writing. Her humor was subtle–and she treated sex subtly, which I appreciated. She also doesn’t beat you over the head with anything; she doesn’t tell you what she’s getting at.
Amy:  The book didn’t hand you anything – it let you make up your own mind. I liked that. It treated me like an adult reader.
Susie: Something else I love–you can tell that she’s actually lived what she’s writing about. It’s not just some airy construct in her brain.
Amy: YES! I was so happy to see her list of jobs, and that she was writing from a place of knowledge with them.
Amy: Did I miss the story behind the title? Or was there not one?
Susie: Sitting zazen is a Buddhist thing. It’s basically sitting meditation.
Amy: Oh! I didn’t know that, I’d never heard the word before! I thought of it more as a nonsense word – in my mind, it was the sound of bombs flying overhead. Which almost works too, even if it isn’t what she was going for.
Susie: It does kind of sound like that, I hadn’t thought about it. I used to have a Buddhist roomie so I know a smattering of things about Buddhism. (Well, he was supposedly Buddhist–I think he told himself that to make him feel better about being a dick, but that’s another story.)
Amy: This is probably a bad book for a lengthy discussion because I have all the love for it.
Susie: I hope she writes more books and that they’re just as good as Zazen was. Totally would recommend it to anybody, and in fact I’m going to try to make my husband read it, ha.

Veselka and Zazen get two thumbs up from us. Each. So I guess that’s a total of four thumbs. So, you should probably read it, because that’s a lot of thumbs. As an added bonus, it’s available to read, for free, in its entirety, on the publisher’s website. Of course, this means reading on a screen, which kind of sucks, but it is free. (I have no doubt that the book will be winging its way to people soon, even if they start off reading it for free on the site. It’s just that good.)

(Of course, this is by no means applicable to writers who are able to take these types of characters and make them dynamic and interesting.)

Characters who have generous financial means to solve problems and no significant mental distress.

I’m not saying that wealthy people don’t have problems that money can’t solve. There are a lot of fucked-up well-to-do families, and their stories make for dramatic reading when done properly. More and more, though, I’m seeing memoirs creeping onto the scene that focus on the midlife crisis of the advantaged upper-class person. Having realized that they’re having a crisis, these people don’t do anything cool like turn to heroin, run away and become prostitutes, or develop a gambling problem and go broke [NOTE: THIS IS SARCASM, DO NOT DO THESE THINGS, YOU WILL NOT BE COOL]. Instead, we get stories about how they throw caution to the wind and have (gasp) sex and buy some new shoes or go on vacation or something.

Yawn.

This character bores the hell out of me because the character never struggles in a way that has any lasting significance. Bored of marriage? You can afford a divorce lawyer–you’ll be quite eligible in no time! Confidence shaken? A sympathetic ear at $100 an hour will have you feeling amazing. Cushy job isn’t fulfilling your creative side? You have enough in the kitty to start your own successful business, and also probably an awesome idea that won’t fail, right? Without a conflict the character finds difficult to overcome, the book reads a bit like Donald Trump’s diary: “Was hugely successful again today! One of my casinos went broke, but I was over it by noon when my other casino made a kajillion dollars. A few people made fun of my hair, but hey–I have enough money for a new hairstyle, I like it this way, so they can fuck off because I am awesome.”

What's The Donald thinking here? Give me your best caption in the comments!

The chronically self-sabotaging person (aka, you never learn, do you?).

 How many times do you have to fuck up before you figure out that you’re doing it wrong? For this character, it is every time. This character never makes a connection between their behavior and the chaos that ensues afterward. Which, granted, there are a lot of people in the world who are like that; I’ve known more than a few people who live their lives running full-tilt at the same brick wall. I don’t really want to read a book about these people, though–and judging from some of your comments on the post about how to ruin your YA fantasy novel, a lot of you feel the same way. Characters have to change. They either need to spiral totally beyond salvation or redeem themselves. If the character is the same at the end of the book as at the beginning, what’s the point of writing a book about them? Zero. There is no point at all. Thanks for wasting my time, self-sabotaging character.

Couples who keep fucking everything up because they are entrenched in gender stereotypes.

I searched "divorce" on Flickr and this came up. Is this not totally sad? Wait--is the dad SMILING? "Leaving my shrew of a wife today, OHHHH YEAAAAAH." (I think that is his nose. But it could be a jaunty smile.)

Picture this: a man and a woman, dating or married. The man is a macho macho man, the woman a rather uncertain feminist–she wants the kids, the career, and some power of her own, but just can’t kick that pesky man-loving habit. He does all of the macho things; he expects her to do the dishes, cook dinner, do the laundry, watch the kids while he drinks beer with his buddies, and put out when he gets home. Or maybe he’s more subtle than that–maybe he is one of those mostly-modern males who has that fierce, protective I am man! streak running through him that never fails to pop up when given the opportunity. Depending on which side of the coin she’s on, she either unfailingly forgives him in an effort to make it work (or, like in the sitcoms, because she’s feeling smug and superior to small-brain husband), or she fights him tooth and nail every step of the way because she’s every woman. Then he asks if she’s on the rag and she cries and locks herself in the bathroom, or maybe keys his car.

Very few couples run into the same conflict and respond the exact same way all the time. Unless you have the insight of an amoeba, you generally learn how to get along in a marriage (either well or badly, but you make something work to keep from screaming at each other every day) or you build up to a spectacular drama-explosion and the marriage ends. In a dramatic work, I want to see the learning or the explosion, not this constant irritant that never, despite the author’s mediocre best efforts, seems to turn into a pearl. I want a pearl, goddammit. Also, the evolution of gender roles in society can be fascinating when approached correctly. There’s a lot of interesting shit going down in the world of gender roles, people. It’s exciting and terrifying and uncertain. With the whole gender spectrum to explore, plugging husband into slot M and wife into slot F and turning on the autopilot when you go gender-spelunking is lazy writing. I didn’t pay fifteen bucks to read the novelization of King of Queens or Leave It to Beaver.

The [insert minority here] character as a sensitivity-training tool, especially written by people who aren’t part of that group.

This character type makes me want to take a hammer to my skull because, if you’re looking in from outside–in some cases, way outside–someone else’s struggle, you can’t write convincingly about that person’s struggle. I’m going to pick on James Ross again for a minute because this example is kind of perfect. In the book Tuey’s Course, Ross claims to be tackling the difficult issue of racism. The problem is that Ross is whiter-than-white and has never been on the receiving end of racism, nor does he really seem to have much of an idea what it’s like to be a black person. As a result, Tuey O’Tweety is such a half-assed throwback to the stereotypical “house Negro” mixed with a 20-years-outdated knowledge of “black culture” that even the Grand Wizard would be unconvinced of Tuey’s authenticity. Tuey is long-suffering, always in trouble with the law; he laughs good-naturedly when some asshole country club drunk does “impreshuns” of him, and probably would’ve slapped his knee if Captain Jer had smeared on blackface; he’s a big fan of rappers “Shriek Caramel U-Hop” and “MiSSuS KuLe BReeZe SiSTa JaNeLLe”, but turns it down like a good boy when the white guys complain that the gangsta rap gives them a headache (a middle-aged Kenny G* fan didn’t name those rappers at all, btw); he’s far too poor to play golf with the guys; and, worst of all, he talks like this through the whole book: “Sum uh da fellas wanted ta git tagedda fo’ ole times sake.” Oh, and bonus: Mrs. O’Tweety’s name is LeVournique, and she apparently dresses like a gypsy drag queen with bright makeup and fake costume bling. As Arnold would say, “I am not shitting on you.”

*I’m only guessing that James Ross likes Kenny G. But I bet he does. How do you like stereotyping now, Mistuh Ross?

Things turn sour for cheerful Tuey at the end, and he perishes in a violent shootout with city officials (a violent end, SO CLEVER AND UNEXPECTED)–a shootout which he initiates because he has rabies. (Not that rabies is a racial stereotype, but shit, you guys, HE HAD RABIES. Maybe it is Ross’s way of explaining why the gangstas are so darn violent with their baggy pants and their rap music–maybe they are all rabid. BEST PLOT TWIST EVER.)

Could have saved Tuey's Course with a little more Mammy. Everybody loves Mammy, right?

Ross has indicated that he thinks that his work is part of a serious discourse on racism in America, but the only profound thing that comes across in his work is the fact that he’s looking at racism through Extreme CrackerVision. He can’t write these characters convincingly because he doesn’t know these characters; this is a major pitfall for people trying to “enlighten” others about something that they, the writers, have never personally experienced. As a person with an autism spectrum condition, I cannot wait for his upcoming book featuring autistic main characters. It’s going to be the most wretched thing ever put to paper awesome.

Based on his nuanced characterization of Tuey, I'm pretty sure this will be the template for his autistic characters. I could be wrong.

The other reason I find this type of character completely annoying is that they don’t tend to be real characters at all. Authors often use these characters as vessels to carry a message. I hate preachy books and I hate characters who aren’t realistic. I find a character who is supposed to be a representative of a group rather than an individual person a bit of a literary insult; I always feel a little miffed, for example, when I read an author falling flat trying to write a female as All Women rather than as a person who happens to have a vagina. No two women are alike, and I imagine that fact extrapolates to other categories of people, so creating this representative-of-the-group’s-struggles character without individuality will likely be full of fail.

(Actually, can we just stop making crusades of our fiction altogether? Just tell me a story–one that makes me laugh, makes me cry, one that moves me. Shit, this is starting to sound like a bad ballad.)

Bros.

No special reason, I just don’t want to read about bros.

This is just the tip of the bad-character iceberg, my friends–but if I kept going, I could write a fucking book about bad characters (ironically, I would want to read a book full of bad characters if the book were making fun of said characters). What poorly-written character stereotypes make you want to drop-kick a novel? Leave em in the comments!

Book:

Author: Ransom Riggs

Published: June 2011 by Quirk Books, 348 pages

Date Read: January 2012

First Line: ”I had just come to accept that my life would be ordinary when extraordinary things began to happen.”

Genre/Rating: Fantasy/mystery; 3/5 blue balls of flame floating over a broken-hearted girl’s hand

Review: This book was being discussed everywhere I turned, so it was high on my to-be-read list. I like quirk! I like photography! I like fantasy/mystery!

I wasn’t in love with this book.

Don’t get me wrong–I didn’t hate it, and wouldn’t tell anyone not to read it–but it didn’t blow me away.

The plot: sixteen-year-old Jacob travels to Wales with his father to fulfill his recently-departed grandfather’s dying wish: to investigate his claim that he lived in a magical orphanage as a child. Jacob was the sole witness to his grandfather Abe’s demise, and has since been haunted by what he thinks he saw that night; he thinks that he will receive some closure by making the trip. What he finds there–and what he discovers about both himself and his grandfather–is not what he imagined he would.

The book is illustrated with a number of “found” photos–one of which is on the cover, above, the “levitating” girl–which the author purports are all truly found photographs. The photos are the best part of the book. They’re serious and creepy and perfect eye-candy, very old-timey sideshow. I highly approve of the photos and the overall art direction of the book.

The story itself–it’s slight. I finished the book in a day. You don’t have to think about it too seriously. It doesn’t give you much to ponder. It’s not bad–I didn’t leave disgusted–just unfulfilled. Still hungry. It could have been more, and I was sad it wasn’t.

The characters seem two-dimensional; you don’t know much about their motivation. The book did set itself up for a sequel (or possibly a series), and I’m not sure if the unfinished air of the whole thing is because the author is keeping it all for the next book(s), or he just relied too heavily on the photographs and didn’t have enough story to carry him through.

I loved the character of Emma, and wanted to know more about her. Again, I’m not sure if the author’s saving that for subsequent book(s), or just didn’t think her character through thoroughly enough. Her correspondence with Abe was, to me, the pinnacle of the book. Unfortunately, it was not meant to be the pinnacle of the book, and there was a lot of book left to go.

The other children in the orphanage needed more backstory and more story-story, altogether. They were cardboard cutouts with a lot of unfulfilled potential.

I have to wonder at all the excellent reviews of the book I’m reading online, the reviews that led me to seek out the book so avidly, to be on a waiting list to read it for the past five months or so at the library. Am I the only one who thought the story took a backseat to the photos (which were, and I happily admit, awesome?) Or were people just so blown away by the art direction of the book they overlooked the story? And, if so, what does that say about the state of literature in the world today? Or is it that we’re just so eager for the next big thing–the next Harry Potter or Hunger Games–that we’re willing to overlook that this book was just–meh?

Tim Burton, purportedly, is interested in the movie version of the book. This I can get behind. Burton would work wonders with the magic in this story. It does have a very Big Fish feel about it, which Burton just made gorgeous, didn’t he? Because there’s magic there in the book, dying to get out, and Riggs just wasn’t skilled enough to extricate it. Burton, however, has the touch needed to make the children’s home a truly magic place. I can’t wait to see, if this deal comes to fruition, what his imagination would bring to the table.

If they can't find me, they can't make me do anything.

As a lover of literature, I love getting book recommendations. I do. I really do. So this rant is going to seem a little weird. Just bear with me.

Getting to hear about future favorite books must be the most awesome thing about being part of an online reading community. I probably would never have picked up Outlander if it weren’t for my Shelfari book club. Might never have stopped to read a Sookie Stackhouse novel if not for same. If I weren’t a book blogger, I might never have read the book Zazen based on a recommendation I found in some research I was doing (Amy and I will be reviewing this book shortly-ish). You guys have told me about all of your favorites–well, maybe not all but many–and my to-read list grows by half-feet daily.

Why, then, are recommendations the topic at hand on this fine Tuesday?

Over-recommenders.

We’re all prone to getting over-excited about our favorite books now and again, but the over-recommender doesn’t just occasionally step out of bounds when it comes to pushing his or her beloved works on you. The over-recommender lives out of bounds. The over-recommender considers it his or her duty to make sure that the whole world experiences the things that he or she considers worthy of attention. All of the things.

To try to be slightly fair, I am obstinate when it comes to being pushed around. If I get even a whiff of pushiness, my gut instinct is to dig in my heels. If that doesn’t work, I pull the toddler maneuver: I sit down on the ground and make it damn near impossible for anybody to drag me anywhere. So, the over-recommender and I really do not get on well. At all.

I also tend to push back any work that doesn’t look like it will fit my tastes. Not that I’m not all about trying new things, or even things that I don’t think I will like–I love Cormac McCarthy, for example, and he’s often compared to Faulkner, for whom I have little affection. I can generally tell fairly quickly if I’m going to like something or not, though, and I tend to favor things that I will like over things that I don’t think I will (note to self: way to go, Captain Obvious). The over-recommender doesn’t operate based on what his or her friends enjoy, though, and there’s another potential conflict: they’re not recommending because you will love this thing, they’re recommending because they love this thing. And there’s no polite way to brush off an over-recommender, because they keep coming at you like they’re Michael Myers and you’re a teenage girl in skimpy panties.

(Do you ever wonder what Michael Myers does when it’s not Halloween? Do you think he hangs out with Santa? Or maybe he goes on Carnival Cruises?)

This is where it gets ugly. The over-recommender persists in nagging you every chance he or she gets. Trying to demur fails. Telling them that you’re busy fails. Saying, “I don’t think this is going to be a good fit for me” fails. Of course it is going to be a good fit for you, it is AMAZEBALLS-TASTIC FOREVER. This is the point where most people would give in and read (et al.) the damn thing just to end the conversation.

NOT ME!

A typical set of exchanges between myself and an over-recommender might go something like this:

Me: Yammering on about something that is interesting to me, like I usually do, because I have Asperger’s and there’s almost no mental filter available when I get onto a subject that fascinates me. (Which is probably almost as annoying as over-recommending, but I’m working on it, at least.)

Over-recommender: Hey, speaking of that, have you heard about this thing that is marginally related?

Me: Um… no.

OR: Oh, you should definitely check it out. ZOMG SO GOOD. Definitely. Check. Out. Definitely check. Definitely. Out.

Me: Okay!

I check it out. I see that it’s a book written by the same author that this person has recommended to me about four hundred different times and by whom I’ve already read other works that I didn’t like. I put it in my “probably not going to read this” file.

Around the time that I have just forgotten the recommendation:

OR: HEY! Did you read the thing yet?

Me: Oh! Uh, what thing?

OR: YOU KNOW. The book I told you about a month ago that is the most amazing thing since humans discovered fire.

Me: Oh, right. Um, not yet.

OR: DO IT DO IT DO IT DO IT

I start to get a little testy. And promptly forget everything about the thing I am supposed to read out of spite.

OR: Hey, did you read it yet? Didja? Didja?

Me: No.

OR: Here, you can borrow my copy, I have like ten copies just take it okay? REEEEEEEEAAAAADDDD ITTTTTTTT readitreaditreaditreaditreadit

Me: You know, it’s really not my kind of thing–

OR: NO IS NOT AN ACCEPTABLE ANSWER.

headwall

OR: You STILL haven’t read it? Here, sit down, I will read it to you.

Me: I.. what? No. No! Look, I don’t really want to–what the . . . did you just handcuff me to a chair?

OR: Yeah, I sure did! Check it out, I even have created different voices for all of the characters!

I pick up the chair and start beating them with it. I go to jail, but it was worth it.

Fin.

I think there should be a rule that if you recommend something to someone, you can only follow up on it a maximum of one time. And I think at least six months should have to pass between the initial recommendation and the follow-up. Because if someone recommends something to me, and I read it, and I agree that it is amazeballs-tastic forever, I’m going to chat them up and say, “OMG YOU WERE SO RIGHT” the first thing when I finish it. If I don’t agree, I will probably avoid the topic to have to keep from having the “I think your favorite thing sucks” conversation. I think probably 95%* of people understand that this is how recommendations work; you either revel in it together or you recognize that you have different tastes and the other person just may not be that into it. It’s that other 5%* that is ruining it for everyone, and by everyone, I mostly mean me.

*Completely made-up statistics.

What do you think, booksluttians? Am I totally weird, or have you encountered your own pushy recommendations? Ever lose a friend over bad recommendations? Tell me your stories in the comments!

P.S. I’m sorry if this isn’t up to my usual rage. I just started a new job and I am SO FUCKING TIRED. And sore. And tired. Did I mention so tired?

Publisher: New Directions

Location: New York, NY

Founded: 1936 by James Laughlin

Distributor: W. W. Norton & Company

Notable Authors/Works: César Aira, Javier Marías, Jorge Luis Borges, Roberto Bolaño, Vladimir Nabokov, Henry Miller–you know, there’s just a ton of ridiculously high-profile authors they have worked with, so I’m going to curtail this list and just say they have literary badassery oozing out of their pores.

Open Submissions: No; New Directions does not accept unsolicited manuscripts or queries.

Kindle/E-reader available: Not apparently. I looked at several books in their catalog, none had e-reader versions available. (Their website is also a bit unwieldy.)

Publishes Periodicals/Quarterlies: Not apparently, although they have in the past.

General information: New Directions was founded based on some advice that James Laughlin received from Ezra Pound, who told him to “do something useful” after graduating from Harvard rather than clinging to the hope that he would be a great poet (which Laughlin, apparently, was not). Laughlin translated that into a passion for experimental literature, which he would highlight in his anthologies, New Directions in Poetry and Prose. The anthology published early works by authors like Ezra Pound, Vladimir Nabokov, Tennessee Williams, Dylan Thomas, Lawrence Ferlinghetti, Marianne Moore–many of the alumni of Laughlin’s annuals went on to be heavy hitters in the literary world, proving that he had a keen eye for spotting great talent and an ability to get it into the hands of readers.

New Directions has also long  been committed to bringing back worthy earlier publications, stories that Laughlin felt should be classics and that Laughlin was determined to restore to their rightful status. You may know one of those out-of-print classics that he resurrected: The Great Gatsby. Other classic works by authors such as Henry James, Evelyn Waugh, and E.M. Forster were republished by ND when no other publishers would do so. In 1993, ND launched the Bibelot line, which featured short but brilliant works from the “backlists” of authors such as Henry Miller, Ezra Pound, and William Carlos Williams, along with reissues of short modern classics.

ND also has played a significant role in bringing translated work to America, something that I highlighted recently when I reviewed two New Directions works by Spanish language authors, César Aira and Javier Marías. (Did you notice that they were both published by New Directions?) Authors like Rilke, Kafka, Nabokov, Bolaño, Mishima, and a host of others, may not be as well known in America today without New Directions bringing their work to us.

New Directions publishes many small novels–they fit nicely in your purse–and some nice clothbound editions of their works. The designs of their covers are beautiful and often abstract, and never feature those weird stock images that you sometimes see on books (or multiple books, which is even worse). What irks me a little is the seeming lack of ebooks available from New Directions. I don’t personally read a lot of ebooks–in fact, I just finished my very first one the other night, and I have to say that it wasn’t a terrible experience at all–but their books are perfect for digital publication: they’re generally short, which I feel makes for a great ebook (I like to read longer books in paper), and they’re so interesting and experimental that I can see people taking a great interest in stocking up their Kindle or Nook with some reasonably-priced ebooks from New Directions. If the whole point is to get great literature into people’s hands when it wouldn’t otherwise get there, as seems to be the case, I’m disappointed that they seem to be shunning digital technology for the moment.

Update: I just saw that one of their upcoming publications is available in ebook format, so I guess they are moving toward this. Yay! Update the second: I started poking around and I found that even though they say you can purchase in e-format, this isn’t always the case. I had originally thought it was because the ebook wasn’t up yet, since the book I had been looking at was new, but a publication from 2010 returned the same result: click the link, nothing comes up in search, search directly on Amazon or B&N and the digital edition is nowhere to be found. ND, update your website!

I also think their website is kind of terrible. It looks nice, but the functionality should be reconsidered, especially when it comes to selling their books. You have to click a button to see the purchasing options, which creates a popup, which takes you not to the actual pages where the book exists on Amazon or wherever, but to a search for said book. Meh. There’s no reason to hide this behind a popup, and there’s also no reason not to put in direct links. (BTW–does anybody know, if one were to launch a product line on Amazon or a similar seller, such as ND books has their books on the site, and then one linked to them from their site, if one could still use Amazon Associates to get an extra little percentage for the advertising? If one could, then it’s even more unfortunate not to link directly there.)

Overall, this publisher is a literary gem. And not a crappy gem, like unpolished agate, but a nice one, like a diamond. If you’re interested in exciting new literature, New Directions is a publisher to keep a close eye on.

Tip #1: Don't be this guy.

With self-publishing and small-press publishing on the rise, many authors who aren’t already being “handled” by “people” (agents, PR representatives, et cetera) are rightfully taking their futures into their own hands and building up their own fan bases on various social media networks. Bloggers, too, are providing an outlet for small presses and self-published authors to get the word out about their newest works. Since we opened up IB to receive pitches from authors and presses to review their books (what, you didn’t know we did that? Check the FAQ for more details), we thought this might be a good time to list some of the things that would keep us from reviewing your book. Because, believe me, there are things. Oh, the things there are. I’d be willing to bet, too, that we’re not the only bloggers who care about these things; so, if you’d like to find out how to get more people to review your book, here’s a handy list of things to do when sending out pitches to reviewers:

Follow directions.

The number one way to make sure that your pitch gets fast-tracked to the virtual trash bin is to ignore the directions that we set for you. The same directions, verbatim, can be found on both the F.A.Q. page and the contact page. I know they’re the same because I copied from one page and pasted to the other. They’re very simple directions–include a summary, a sample chapter or two, keep any deadlines you may have in mind by giving us at least two to four weeks of actually having the book (not shipping the book off two weeks before the deadline and we get it a week out from having to publish the review), and please, do not send us pitches for genre fiction (unless it’s some kind of amazing genre-bending work). Simple stuff. We have it set up that way for a reason, so ignoring the directions is like questioning our reasoning, which doesn’t make us particularly inclined toward working with you.

We got a pitch the other day that had roughly a zillion words to read because it included both a summary and a synopsis, plus several chapters of the work. We really don’t have time to read that many words unless we’re committed to reviewing it, because we have to read quite a bit to keep up the content of our blog (plus a secret project we’re working on–NO I CAN’T TELL YOU, it’s a secret). What we’re looking for is a sample of the writing style and a brief (brief!) overview of what you think the story is about.

On the other hand . . . . while brevity is important, you’ll be a lot more successful if you do submit a writing sample to us, so don’t leave it out! We’ve gotten pitches with only synopses before, and sketchy ones at that. I’m willing to go track it down on Amazon to see if there’s a first-chapter preview, but no sample likely means no review. First chapters are always important; we want to see if we’re going to be sucked into the story.

Also? Pleeeaaaaaassseeeee do not give away the ending in your summary. I want to be surprised if I decide to read it, and I’m certain my comrades agree. If you give away the ending, we will summon a pack of ghost wolves to prowl around your house and dig up your garden while you are asleep. Also, they will get right under your bedroom window and howl. They will howl so loud that you’ll need to put extra gin in your martini to knock you out cold so you can sleep, and then you’ll have a perpetual hangover. Don’t. Spoil. The Ending. Or, ghost wolves.

Don’t pour on the flattery.

I like genuine compliments as much as the next person. Amy paid me some very nice compliments the other day and they made me all warm and fuzzy. If you love our blog, then sure, I want to hear about how much you enjoy it; but if every other sentence is paying lip service to us because you think that will make us more likely to review your book, I hate to tell you, but that’s going to be about as transparent as  . . . . well, I guess everything that is transparent has the same degree of transparency, since it would otherwise be translucent, so, let’s just say it will be transparent. Then we feel manipulated, and not so much warm and fuzzy.

Using flattery to get us to review a book is sort of like using flattery to get into someone’s pants. We know it’s insincere and it makes us feel cheap. We’re bookslutty, sure, but we’re not easy. A few fawning phrases won’t make us open our blog and take you into the fold.

Totally not us. Although I love those boots.

Don’t nag us via e-mail or social media, and/or back us into a corner.

If for some reason you need us to make a decision within a certain time frame–say you only have x number of copies and you want to know if you should reserve one for us–please let us know privately that you have a time frame and you would appreciate a decision. But if it’s more of a “HEY ARE YOU GONNA READ MY BOOK?!?!?!” every time we “bump” into you online, that’s going to get old really fast. I mean, really fast–the first time you do it fast.

Write your summary or cover letter as well as you wrote your book.

It should go without saying, but if you want us to take you seriously, all correspondence should be up to the same quality as your “real” writing. It doesn’t all have to be roses and caviar genius prose, but words should be spelled correctly, sentences should be grammatically correct, and everything should make sense. The writing should be engaging enough that I want to read more–if I’m rolling my eyes while I’m still reading your letter or summary, I’m less likely to give the chapters underneath the full attention that they might deserve.

On the other hand, even a perfectly-spelled and grammatically-correct letter and summary could still be badly written if it’s gimmicky. Do not be gimmicky. Do not. No. There’s a pretty fine line between creative and gimmicky, so make sure you know where the line is and don’t stray over to the dark side.

Be kind–and don’t have a cow if we turn you down.

Here’s something you should know about me: almost nothing in life irritates me more than an encounter with a condescending person. If you are uncontrollably condescending, just plan on us never having a positive interaction right now. I may not say anything while we’re interacting, but inside, the rage will be building. If you continue to interact with me and be all condescending, my anger will become so focused that it will be overwhelming and probably set you on fire, like in Firestarter. Don’t do it.

"What am I doing? I'm quietly judging you."

Acting like you’re doing us a favor also probably will not fly, unless you’re actually doing us a favor (ie, you’re a hugely popular author and you’re giving us some sort of exclusive or an interview or something that will be hugely beneficial to us–which, by the way, we’re always open to, hugely popular authors!). One of the major aspects of the kerfuffle I wrote about before, when I was contacted by an author, was that he acted like I was being rude and turning down some huge favor that he did telling me about his book. I just . . . no. Even if they would be my favoritest new books forever, that kind of approach leaves a bad taste in one’s mouth. Be confident, but not aggressively so.

Also, try to keep your own anger in check if we can’t accept your book. We’re not turning you down because we get some sort of maniacal glee out of rejecting others; it may not be good timing for us, or maybe a couple of books down the road, you’ll hit on one that fits our needs better that we can accept. But if you douche out all over us because of the first book, we won’t be able to consider you for the one we would have read.

Look through some of our past reviews to see what we like.

As an aspiring reviewee, you have a fantastic resource available to you: our past blog posts. (Also, if you look closely, you can find our Goodreads and Shelfari shelves. Just saying.) You can see what we like and what we don’t like. I’m not saying you need to make an intensive study of our past reviews, but you can see if we have liked or disliked any books similar to yours. (This? Works for all blogs. Skim through the archives before you contact and you may have a better success rate.)

To summarize:

Here’s your condensed, handy checklist for sending out those review pitches to blogs:

• Be courteous in your conversations, even if you get turned down. We book bloggers tend to talk.
• Be respectful of our time, because it really does take time to create blog content–as you well know, being a writer! And many of us have “real” jobs and families on top of it; our lives are, unfortunately, not devoted to reading and blogging from waking til sleep.
• Write genuinely and passionately about your work, rather than using gimmicks or flattery to “sell” your work. Also, don’t be spammy. We know when you’re being spammy. Let your work speak for itself.
• Having a free copy to provide never hurts, especially since we don’t all make money doing this (but you may make some sales from the review). At the same time, we can get free books from the library, so don’t consider this as much an “enticement” as a courtesy.
• Write well, all the time.
• Be familiar with the venue to which you’re sending your book–what their tastes are and if your work fits in.
• Be honest to yourself about what your book is and what it is not. Is it literary fiction? Or is it genre fiction or general fiction? Knowing what category your will falls into will help you target blogs that will be most likely to review you and who have audiences that are most likely to buy your work.

What do you think, fellow book bloggers, if you’re out there? What kinds of things do people do to put you off reviewing their work? Or, are you a writer who has had some experiences in submitting your work for review? Talk to us in the comments!

Today, let’s talk about young adult fantasy novels. I’ll admit it, I’m hooked on them. I know, I’m an adult, and as such, I should probably be reading things with more style and substance. However, I can’t resist a good young adult fantasy novel. Harry Potter? Yes, please. The Hunger Games? More of that. The His Dark Materials trilogy? Swoon. Kristen Cashore’s Graceling series? Delicious.

But for every good young adult fantasy, there are swarms – SWARMS! – of horrible books, just waiting for me to stumble upon them and, after reading a few chapters (or, because I am stubborn about finishing everything that’s on my plate, the entire novel) run away cursing and screaming. Yes, I’m looking at you, Maggie Stiefvater, with your utterly craptastic Wolves of Mercy Falls series. Ugh.

Here are some of the ways that you, too, can ruin your young adult fantasy novel and ensure that I will mentally draw and quarter you. And perhaps flay. Yes, also perhaps flaying will occur.

Have a weak female main character.

More this, less, "ZOMG I NEED RESCUING NOW!"

I’m not saying you have to have a female main character (although I’m predisposed to like you more if you do, sorry, that’s just me.) I’m just saying, if you do, please, for the love of all that’s holy, show me WHY she’s the main character. If she’s constantly needing to be rescued by a strapping young teen in a tight white teeshirt, she doesn’t deserve to be the main character. HE does. I mean, is she only your main character so you can show how weak she is? You want an example. Oh, you don’t think I can? I’ll show YOU. I WILL GIVE YOU ONE. Hush, Hush by Becca Fitzpatrick. Not the worst YA fantasy book I’ve ever read. But the main character kept putting herself in these ridiculously stupid situations. “Oh! Patch (yes, yes, the romantic lead’s name is Patch, not anyone’s finest hour) told me NOT to go to the bad part of town and enter the pool hall. I MUST DO SO NOW. Oh! No! Patch! People are TRYING TO KILL ME!” It was disconcerting. I don’t want to read an entire book about some weakling who can’t save her own day – or, almost worse, can’t get out of her own way. It’s fine to show me someone’s weaknesses, but if they’re utterly idiotic, I’m tuning out.

Have a love triangle where one of the participants clearly doesn’t stand a chance.

Love this, but Duckie didn't stand a chance, because he was obviously gay. OH STOP IT. I love him too. But he WAS.

The best love triangles are the ones in which you can see WHY the person who’s having to make the choice is having a hard time deciding between the two contenders. Let’s take The Hunger Games, for example. Katniss had to choose between Peeta and Gale. You could see why she was having a hard time choosing: she’d grown up with Gale, he was the typical “male romantic lead,” and she’d always had feelings for him; Peeta, on the other hand, was new to the equation, but she found herself liking him, getting to know him, and he proved himself a strong champion. Therefore, since both characters had good and bad qualities, you actually had a stake, as a reader, in which she chose, and it made for interesting reading. Reading a book in which the love triangle is between a young man who is just perfect in every way and a young man who is bitter, abusive, and unintelligent is not interesting, because you know where it’s going. I mean, you do, right? I suppose the author might surprise you and have his character choose the lesser of the two choices, but then you have the ramifications of that choice, and that’s equally bad. Just give me two real characters for him or her to choose from, with real pros and cons, please. Not one real character and a shady weirdo who skulks amongst garbage cans or some such nonsense.

Have the teenagers act like adults.

My teenage years in a nutshell. "SO TORTURED AND ALOOOONE"

Have you ever been around teenagers? Or, barring that, how about this. Have you ever BEEN a teenager? Probably you have. I mean, I don’t know your life, maybe you’re a robot. Teenagers don’t make decisions the same way adults do. Teenagers don’t talk the way adults do. Teenagers don’t ACT the way adults do. (There’s a lot of emo-moping and tortured poetry and heaving sighs, if I remember my own teenage years correctly.) Sure, there are situations where teenagers, due to societal pressure or family breakdown or what-have-you, have had to mature more quickly, but even in those situations, the teenager in the teenager still breaks through now and then. Hormones are the ruling factor in a teenager. Bad young adult fantasy writers tend to forget this and write as if their characters are just smaller adults without diplomas or jobs. In the above-mentioned (shudder, SO BAD) Stiefvater series, one of the teenagers realizes she has this obscure medical knowledge – that I’d argue even an ADULT DOCTOR wouldn’t have – that can save the day. ARE YOU KIDDING ME. No. Just, no.

Tread ground that’s been trod before.

Awesome! But we don't NEED another Buffy and Angel. We HAVE a Buffy and Angel.

I know, this is a tough one, because, when you think about it, ALL ground has been trod before. We’ve got books about witches, werewolves, fairies, vampires, dystopian futures, on and on and on. I’m not saying you can’t use these plot points – you are, after all, writing young adult fantasy fiction, so you’re probably going to want to throw something along these lines in there – but do it differently than it’s been done before. How are your vampires different than the norm? How do your fairies differ from the stories? We already have a Harry Potter – do we need another book about witches at school? If you think we do, how will yours be different enough to matter? And NO. I am also not saying you need to throw stupidity in. Major, major rule: it is never a good time for stupidity just for stupidity’s sake, just to stand out from the crowd. Don’t make your vampires sparkle, please? Or make it so your vampires can breed with humans? I mean, we have to have a sense of DECORUM, here, people. Unless you want to be laughed out of your writer’s club, or wherever you go for feedback and coffee cake. See, writers, you’re people. And, as people, as much as it pains me to say it, we’re all special snowflakes, who were all molded and shaped by our individual experiences in life. Take what made you, and put that on the page. Your particular set of tools is different than everyone else’s. Use them to your full advantage.

Talk down to your readers. 

"Ugh, talk down to me AGAIN, you total asshat."

Yes, teenagers aren’t, as mentioned above, adults. However! Teenagers are savvy readers, especially in this day and age. They KNOW when they’re being patronized. They even smell the slightest hint of that, and they’re gone. And they talk, authors. Oh, do they talk. This can work in your favor – word of mouth from rabid teens has done wonders, I mean, look at Twilight! – but it can also hurt you if you decided to talk down to your readers and they caught wind of it. They’re going to SAVAGE you, both online and in real-life conversations. And teenagers have, despite what you’ve heard, long memories. Your next book? Forget it. They’ll remember that you thought they were stupid in your last book and they’ll stay far away from you. Not to mention that there are many adults, such as myself, who are reading your books, and, while we’re a little more forgiving, considering we’re reading young adult literature to begin with, we really don’t want to read something patronizing or childish. Things to avoid: rants in the middle of your text about social issues (the worst, and most egregious, is when you have one of your characters start spouting off how they’re “saving themselves for marriage” – NO NO NO. Listen, sure, there are teenagers who are doing this, and good for them, if that’s their thing. But I bet they’re not GOING AROUND DOUCHING IT UP AND PREACHING ABOUT IT. Not unless they want to be pantsed and made fun of on Facebook for the world to see or something. Gah), using elementary vocabulary (if we don’t show teenagers advanced language, how will they learn it? If they don’t know the word, they’ll glean what they need from context, or look it up, I guarantee you that), and assuming teenagers are too stupid to notice plot holes or cardboard characters (nope, this is a media-savvy generation, they’re all over that, and they’ll call you on it, too – they may not know what such things are called, but they’ll know something’s wrong.)

What about you, Booksluttians? Any young adult fantasy fans want to chime in? What do you hate when reading a young adult fantasy novel? What did I miss? And, perhaps most importantly, what good young adult fantasy novels should I be reading that I haven’t read yet?

Welcome to another rousing edition of DEATH MATCH! Miss Amy usually brings you this segment, but I happened into a duo of books that I wanted to put head-to-head, so here I am, bring you my very first death match and hoping to hell that I don’t screw it up.

Two books enter. One book leaves.

Today’s contenders are both novelettes by Spanish-language authors, César Aira and Javier Marías. Who will prevail? Will it be, in this corner, The Prolific Penman of Argentina, with a book weighing in at a hefty (well, more hefty) 89 pages*? Or, in this corner, The Linguistic Spaniard, with a work weighing in at a mere 55 pages? Stay tuned, book fans, for the thrilling conclusion!

(Amazon says that Varamo is 144 pages. The edition I have in my hands is 89. There may be additional material that I don’t have.)

Book: Varamo

Author: César Aira

Published: 2002 by Editorial Anagrama, S.A. (in Spanish); 2/22/12 by New Directions, translated by Chris Andrews; 89 pages (in English)

Date Read: January 27, 2012

First Lines: ”One day, in 1923, in the city of Colón (Panama), a third-class clerk, having finished work and, since it was payday, passed by the cashier’s desk to collect his monthly salary, left the Ministry in which he was employed. In the interval between that moment and the dawn of the following day, ten or twelve hours later, he completed the composition of a long poem, from the initial decision to write it up to the final period, after which there were no further additions or corrections.”

Genre: Literary fiction

Varamo tells the tale of the title character, who starts his day as an ordinary clerk and finishes as the writer of one of the most celebrated poems in Central America. No one would peg Varamo as a likely candidate for literary brilliance; a middle-aged bachelor, he lives at home with his mother, whose grip on reality is tenuous at best; in his spare time, creates amateur (but enthusiastic) works of taxidermy. The Ministry pays him two hundred pesos a month, and, to his dismay, he has somehow been paid this month in counterfeit bills. In his quest to relieve himself of the bills and gain genuine currency, Varamo has a series of adventures that lead him to the inevitable conclusion of his extraordinary authorship.

I enjoyed this book–indeed, reading Varamo got me out of my post-holiday reading slump. (Yay!) The book started off a humorous read, but the hilarity of it didn’t click for me until halfway through, when I found myself cackling as the narrator described how, exactly, he had come by his information about Varamo to write the book. (I won’t spoil it, but oh, how I laughed.) Aira also has a knack for plunging you directly into the scene as a participant rather than an observer. The book covers only one day in the life of Varamo, but in all likelihood, this day was the only day that mattered; Aira distills and concentrates the story, giving you a perfect bite without leaving you wanting.

You may have noticed above that Varamo has not yet hit the shelves; don’t worry, my Booksluttians, you will be able to get your hands on a copy in less than a month. By that time, you’ll be able to have read our next selection, and you can compare them for yourself!

Book: Bad Nature, or With Elvis in Mexico

Author: Javier Marías

Published: 1996 in Spanish; 1999 in Granta magazine, translated by Esther Allen; 2010 by New Directions, translated by Esther Allen

Date Read: First read, early 2010; again 2/1/2012

First Lines: “No one knows what it is to be hunted down without having lived it, and unless the chase was active and constant, carried out with deliberation, determination, dedication and never a break, with perseverance and fanaticism, as if the pursuers had nothing else to do in life but look for you, keep after you, follow your trail, locate you, catch up with you and then, at best, wait for the moment to settle the score.”

Genre: Literary fiction

The back of Bad Nature reads, “It all happened because of Elvis Presley.”  Are you intrigued yet? Because I was.

Bad Nature is a day-in-the-life-gone-wrong tale that, like Varamo, follows the narrator through the most life-changing day in his existence. Bad Nature, though, is a darker tale with brilliant flashes of humor, rather than a witty ride through the absurd. “Roy Berry,” the name American coworkers gave the narrator to replace the hard-to-pronounce Ruibérriz, has been hired as a language coach for none other than Elvis Presley, who is to star in a film entitled Fun in Acapulco. Elvis, apparently, has decided that he wants a Spanish accent, a classy European accent, rather than a Mexican accent, and Elvis gets what Elvis wants. Roy, being from Spain, is tapped for the job, which includes six weeks in Acapulco alongside the King. This job sounds like heaven; unfortunately for Roy, things take a terribly wrong turn one night when a member of the Elvis entourage offends a Mexican gangster in a bar with some salacious (and hilarious) dancing. Roy is forced to translate the proceedings for both parties. The words “fat faggot” may or may not come into play.

Marías blends fact and fiction to create a tale that reads like a tell-all about one of our most beloved icons. He dives into the world of celebrity, painting a noble (if flawed) portrait of The King through the eyes of a narrator who, although an admirer, has a certain distance that comes from being born outside of America. The book, though, isn’t about Elvis, and Marías doesn’t let us forget that; in the end, we’re left alone with Roy, as the sun rises to end the most turbulent and disturbing night of his life.

To read Marías is to make a study of language; Marías uses language oh-so-deliberately and often expounds on the subject of translation. Bad Nature is no different, with the narrator himself being employed as a translator. We come to see in the story how translation is not necessarily a process of exchanging words from one language to the other; indeed, there is a wider context to be considered, and sometimes, just sometimes, it may be more necessary to shoot the messenger than the original sender. (That doesn’t mean I’m saying that Roy gets shot. Like I’d give you that kind of spoiler.)

As Amy says, “The rules of DEATH MATCH are simple. THERE ARE NO RULES. No, sorry, that’s not true, there are totally rules. The rules are: I will score the books on an arbitrary system and, at the end, ONE BOOK WINS. What does the book win? YOU SHALL SEE.”

Today’s DEATH MATCH will be scored with: taxidermied animals displayed behind a car that Elvis used to drive. Yes, this really does exist:

Varamo:

• Varamo’s quest to create a tableau of a fish playing a piano, only to find out (too late) that the fish has no arms: +3 taxidermied animals
• My own intense relief when Aira described the feeling one gets when a noise that has been invading your consciousness suddenly stops: +2 taxidermied animals
• A somewhat removed air that doesn’t let you get too close to the characters: -1 taxidermied animal
• The Góngoras sisters: +1 taxidermied animal
• A hobo who emphatically claims everyone owes him money and harasses people until they pay him: +2 taxidermied animals
• A humorous send-up of writing, publishing, and literary criticism: +2 taxidermied animals
• Secret spy stuff that causes a hilarious misunderstanding: +1 taxidermied animal

Rating: 5/5 accidentally-embalmed fish dinners

Bad Nature or With Elvis in Mexico:

• Elvis: +5 taxidermied animals
• Sentences that, while gorgeous and appropriate, are the most run-on of run-on sentences forever: -1 taxidermied animal
• George McGraw’s dancing: +2 taxidermied animals
• Sentences that were in Spanish, and me having forgotten enough Spanish that I had to guess at them: -1 taxidermied animal
• Seamless merging of fact and fiction: +2 taxidermied animals
• The dark twist at the end: +1 taxidermied animal
• The fact that it takes place in Mexico, and I love Mexico: +3 taxidermied animals

Rating: 5/5 green silk scarves stolen from mafiosos

The winner of today’s DEATH MATCH, in the lead by a hair (or a hare) with 11 taxidermied animals to 10 taxidermied animals:

Bad Nature!

Congratulations, señor Marías! Today’s prize is:

A bowl of bacon! Congratulations! Elvis would be so touched. And he would totally want to share your bacon. My husband told me that, because Elvis always had a bowl of bacon at the ready, one of his pianos at Graceland actually had clear ivory keys, because the bacon grease had somehow magically made them transparent. I cannot verify this story, so it may be completely made up.

Come back again for our next round of DEATH MATCH, where we will pit two more equally worthy adversaries against one another until the BITTER, BITTER END!

Book:

Author: Neal Stephenson

Published: September 2011 by Harper Collins, 1,056 pages

Date Read: December-January 2012

First Lines: ”Richard kept his head down. Not all those cow pies were frozen, and the ones that were could turn an ankle.”

Genre/Rating: Techno-thriller; 3.5/5 fierce Chinese girls wearing big blue boots

Review: This is the book that almost stopped my reading at a standstill.

Yes, you’re reading that timeline above correctly – it took me a month and a half to read this book.

It wasn’t an unbroken month and a half – I read a few other books over that period, mostly because the book was due back at the library before I could finish it, so I had to return it, re-reserve it, and wait to get it back to continue reading – but I don’t think I’ve ever taken this long to read anything in my life.

The plot: Millionaire Richard “Dodge” Forthrast, co-founder of T’Rain, an MMORPG (which I know little about, but it seemed similar to World of Warcraft), hires his niece, Zula, to work for his company. Through her boyfriend, who has gotten mixed up with the Russian mafia, Zula finds herself a pawn in an international plot to find and eliminate a computer hacker who is accidentally holding some important information hostage. (The name of the computer virus is “Reamde” – a misspelling of the common file “Readme,” as the hacker is Chinese and has poor command of the English language.) Throw in some Muslim terrorists, a Chinese woman with big blue boots, a taciturn Russian “security consultant” (ok, he was really more of a hitman, but I’m being nice), British and American spies, a heavily-armed anti-government Christian compound, and a Hungarian security consultant (actual security consultant this time) who falls in love, and you have a LOT of characters to keep track of, a LOT of plot, and a LOT of reading to do.

I liked the book. There were two major problems I had, but I would recommend it. (I also think that possibly someone who was a little more interested in MMORPGs and online gaming and computer culture, and/or fans of Stephenson’s earlier work – I haven’t read any of his other books – might get more out of it than I did.)

The good: Since it was so long, you had time to get to know the characters. You found yourself rooting for certain characters, and when they’d pop up again after being missing for hundreds of pages (yes, that happened, a number of times) it was like greeting an old friend. My favorites: Csongor (the Hungarian security consultant), Yuxia (the Chinese woman with the boots – she was absolutely adorable, I just fell in love with her and her spunkiness) and – SIGH and SWOON – Sokolov, the Russian “security consultant,” who I just adored. There needed to be more Sokolov. Give me a quiet man who gets the job done, knows how to protect himself and the people he cares about, and lives by a strict moral code, and I’m a puddle on the floor.

There was some romance and humor – not a lot, but enough to keep things interesting.

The bad: Editing. (And listen, I know about not being able to edit, I’m horrible at it, as anyone who reads my blog can attest, but this was insane.) Stephenson could have gotten across everything he did and had it be 3/4 again as long as it was. The writing style also took some getting used to – Stephenson is a dense-chunk-of-writing style of writer, and you really, really can’t skim this book. That’s why it took me so long. I’m a speed reader, and I couldn’t speed-read this. You had to pay attention. To everything. It was an information dump of text.

Second: without giving away too much, a good 7/8 of the book is Zula being held captive by various groups of people, and other various groups of people attempting to rescue her. She never played the victim and she never got annoying, and I thank Stephenson for that. But she also never showed any traits that, in my mind, would engender such passionate loyalty toward her from the characters. I understand, obviously, the lengths to which her family members were willing to go to obtain her safe return. But there were six other people, not related to her, who she’d barely had interactions with, all risking their lives to save her, and I found it very head-scratching, especially considering everything else was spelled out, in EXCRUCIATING detail, in the book. I also didn’t understand why, other than the book would obviously end if she did, all these various factions continued to cart her around places and didn’t just kill her. She didn’t seem to serve them any purpose. At some point, Zula became a plot point rather than a character.

I’m very stubborn. There are plenty of times I wanted to say, “You know what, Mr. Stephenson? There are a ton of other books I could be reading right now, good sir. This is TOO MUCH FOR ME.” But once I start a book, and invest a lot of time and energy into it, I don’t like to put it down. I like to finish things to the bitter, bitter end. I’m a bit of a rat terrier in my single-mindedness about seeing what happens. And I’m glad I did. I did enjoy it. It just sucked all of my reading energy out of me for a very… very… long… time.