Wulf C. Krueger

Late one evening toward the end of March, a teenager picked up a double-barreled shotgun, walked into the forest, put the gun to someone else's forehead, and pulled the trigger.This is the story of how we got there.I love reading and I love books. I rarely take them personally, though. Mostly, I forget their contents soon after having read the final page. This is part of why I've started writing reviews in 2019. A few rare and precious books, though, stay with me, unforgettable. One of those is “[b:Beartown 33413128 Beartown (Beartown, #1) Fredrik Backman https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1482108618l/33413128.SY75.jpg 54171514]” by [a:Fredrik Backman 6485178 Fredrik Backman https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1493098924p2/6485178.jpg]. I read it in 2018 and while I've forgotten some details, I vividly remember the story which to this day, five years later, makes me tear up. There's also a very personal aspect to this because I gave this novel as a present to my mother for her 81st birthday, joking that if she had time for one more book, she should read this one. She died three days later.So, this review, which I felt unfit to write at the time, comes five year “late” but it will never be too late for “Beartown” because I still believe that this novel is such a unique* masterpiece that everyone should read it.“Beartown” is a beautifully written novel that captivates the reader with its raw emotional depth and stunning prose. Backman has crafted a masterpiece that explores the complexities of human nature and the power of community, all within the context of a small, remote town where hockey reigns supreme. Don't be discouraged, though: Yes, hockey plays a role in this but “Beartown” is very much not about hockey...At the heart of the story is a group of young hockey players who dream of making it to the big leagues. Their passion for the game is palpable and contagious, and Backman expertly captures the intensity of their training and the thrill of their victories. But beneath the surface, there are darker currents at play, as the town's obsession with hockey and its players leads to a culture of toxic masculinity and entitlement.When one of the team's star players is accused of a heinous crime, the town is torn apart by conflicting emotions and loyalties. Backman masterfully navigates the moral complexities of the situation, exploring themes of loyalty, justice, and forgiveness with nuance and sensitivity.But what makes “Beartown” truly special is its portrayal of community: Backman has created a cast of characters that are richly drawn and deeply flawed, but ultimately bound together by their love for their town and each other. Through their interconnected stories, Backman illustrates the power of community to both heal and harm, and the importance of standing up for what is right, even when it is difficult.One of the most important relationships in “Beartown” is the friendship between Maya and her best friend, Ana. Maya is a strong and determined young woman, with a fierce loyalty to her family and her town. Ana, on the other hand, is more reserved and introspective, but no less passionate about her beliefs.Through Maya's and Ana's friendship, Backman illustrates the importance of empathy and compassion, and the power of human connection to bridge differences and create understanding. Their relationship is a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there is always hope for healing and reconciliation through the strength of our bonds with one another.Another character at the heart of this fantastic novel is Benji, a character who struggles with his identity and his place in the world. He is a talented hockey player but he is not a star on the team. Benji is also grappling with his sexuality and the fear of being rejected by his peers and the community at large. His journey in the novel is both heartbreaking and heartwarming, as he comes to terms with who he is and finds the courage to be true to himself.One of the most touching aspects of the novel is the friendship between Benji and Maya. They have known each other since childhood and have a bond that is deep and unbreakable. Maya accepts Benji for who he is, and their friendship becomes a source of strength and support for both of them. Benji's loyalty to Maya is unwavering, even when he faces pressure from his teammates and others in the community to betray her.Throughout the novel, Benji's story is a reminder of the importance of acceptance and love in a world that can be harsh and unforgiving. Backman handles his character with utmost sensitivity and empathy, and the reader can't help but root for him as Benji navigates his way through the challenges he faces. By the end of the novel, Benji's journey is one of the most powerful and inspiring in the book, and his growth and transformation are a testament to the resilience of the human spirit.Another of the novel's standout characters is Peter Andersson, the team's general manager and a former hockey star himself. Peter is a complex and nuanced character, haunted by the mistakes of his past and struggling to balance his loyalty to his team with his responsibility to his family and the town. Backman's portrayal of Peter is both heartbreaking and inspiring.Another amazing character is Kira, Peter's wife, Maya's mother, who is fiercely protective but also a deeply compassionate and empathetic person. Backman's depiction of her journey through grief, anger, and forgiveness is both moving and thought-provoking, challenging readers to examine their own beliefs about justice and mercy.Not only these few characters are brilliantly, empathetically and masterfully portrayed, though, but actually every single character makes sense, is believable and plausible in their respective actions. Not just the “hotshots” matter but everyone, including the local hooligans and the cleaner.Overall, “Beartown” is a truly remarkable novel that deserves all the praise it has received and now I finally added my voice to it to go with the five out of five stars it easily deserves. *: I'm well aware and have read its two sequels (and liked them) but despite their respective successes, personally, I believe “Beartown” should have remained the solitary triumph of literature it is.Blog Facebook Twitter Mastodon Instagram Pinterest Medium Matrix TumblrCeterum censeo Putin esse delendam

“And in their corner all they had was Murderbot, who just wanted everyone to shut up and leave it alone so it could watch the entertainment feed all day.”I'm not a Science Fiction fan. I'm not especially fond of novellas. This one, though...I can't even really explain what appealed to me about this novella: Murderbot neither really feels like a robot nor like a person but still strangely... plausible.Murderbot's actions feel logical, yet simple. It does what it has to do. Its ambiguity as an artificial lifeform makes it feel both familiar in, e. g. its shyness and some other emotions - not to speak of its entertainment addiction. Plus: An artificial lifeform that (sometimes) acts more humanely than its human counterparts? Fascinating!Murderbot is literally strange enough to go through a contrasting melange of emotions as well. This contrast, the SecUnit's conflicting feelings and survival strategies are probably what made this story so wondrously attractive for me. All in all, the novella is based on an interesting premise with a good mixture of characters and a lot of suspense. Spice that up with Murderbot itself and its diverse clients and you get a modern, fresh approach to science fiction.Highly recommended. Blog Facebook Twitter Instagram

I was given this ebook for free by the author.

In short: An eccentric rich guy called Hail kills a North Korean bad guy, the US administration notices, sends Hail on a mission to break stuff and sends a female “supermodel” CIA agent, Kara, with him.

The story is lousy and the entire book has tons of useless techno babble in it that should simply have been scrapped. One of the main characters puts it very nicely:

“That meant nothing to Kara. But she did understand that the ship's big gun was being loaded and brought online. How it worked, she didn't care.”

Neither do we, especially not after having been treated to pages after pages about steering drones, activating weapons, etc.

The protagonist, Hail, is a highly annoying character:

Hail is sexist...
“It was so damn difficult to register this face, this body, this female package with a hardcore CIA agent.”
“It was just so damn difficult to take this supermodel for real.”

... a macho with nasty attitudes, seeing himself as “the executioner - an exterminator of vermin”, with a blatant disregard for people in general...

“The lieutenant said, “Even if I wanted to, look, there are people down there.” “They'll move,” Hail argued. “I mean, if you saw a massive helicopter coming down on your head, wouldn't you move?””

Then there are the typos and the grammar... One example:

“The truck is here,” Kornev said in English. “I have your man opening the warehouse doors.” He nodded sleepily and tried to stand.

/Kornev/ nodded sleepily? I don't think so - it's actually the guy he's talking to but why would an author have to know how to write...

That's really all you want to know about this book which consists pretty much entirely of sexism, senseless techno babble, copyright violations (multiple verbatim copies from Wikipedia) and not much else.

Oh, well, another difficult review to write... I really did like this book and while writing this very sentence I'm still unsure what my final verdict will be.Evelyn Hugo, fictional Hollywood icon, is - to me - an immensely likeable person: Starting her career in the 1950s she works her way up to become a legend. That alone would already have made for an interesting read because I grew up on films from the Golden Age of Old Hollywood.When I first read the title I immediately thought of Elizabeth Taylor (eight marriages, seven husbands...) whose work in the film industry has indeed inspired Reid (as I just found out). Just like fictional Evelyn Taylor has been a staunch ally of the LGBTQ* community and an early HIV/AIDS activist.More than that, how could I not like a bisexual woman who lives through eight tumultous marriages? In a time, more than 20 years into the 21st century, during which still way too many countries, peoples and people do not accept love between consenting adults regardless of their sexual identity and preferences - how could I not like and endorse a book that succeeds at depicting queer relationships in a loving way?»That night, Celia and I slept nude, holding each other. We no longer pretended to touch by accident. And when I woke up in the morning with her hair in my face, I inhaled, loudly and proudly. Within those four walls, we were unashamed.«I really enjoyed how unapologetic Evelyn is about the way she fights for what she wants and takes what she thinks should be hers.»I'm OK with the fact that sometimes doing the right thing gets ugly. And also, I have compassion for myself. I trust myself.«Whom I liked less, sadly, is Monique Grant, our current-day journalist who is tasked to write Evelyn's biography. She never materialises fully in the book: While Evelyn is rightly in the spotlight but Monique remains a bit like an unfinished draft: Yes, her story is told and finished but as a person she remains mostly in the shadows. Unlike Evelyn, she's denied the opportunity to really become a person.Also, like some other of my fellow reviewers, I felt this book lacked a bit of depth: It was a truly good read but while showing but not exploring violence inside a marriage, while showing true love but also leaving unexplored the deeper reasons why Evelyn is hesitant to come out, “[b:The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo 32620332 The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo Taylor Jenkins Reid https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1498169036l/32620332.SY75.jpg 46885151]” sadly fails at making a true “impact”.At times, I felt like this book has come too late - the social battles that were necessary and instrumental in allowing for public queer relationships have been fought and, thankfully, mostly won.What remains to be achieved is total, utter, complete equality and this book, sadly, does not truly further that cause. It rehashes what most of us have long known but it doesn't pose any new questions.While being very entertaining, it satisfies my need for really good entertainment but unlike some other books, it doesn't challenge my perceptions.I guess I have my answer: Four of of five stars.Blog Facebook Twitter Instagram Ceterum censeo Putin esse delendam

I must have read a different book from most others... I've read an extraordinarily cheap science fiction thriller that feels very dated, e. g. when NASA officials threaten to fax a secret to the newspapers, when they present evidence on a cassette tape and that caters to admirers of body horror at best.Yes, it's a thrilling page turner but of the 90s variety; think of the old b-movies with body snatchers and smart scientists, a cowboy-infested US government and many more stereotypical characters and story elements. It's mostly disgusting with cheap thrills and the intellectual depth of a puddle.I finished it less than a day ago and, thankfully, the “story” is already fading into oblivion. I'll stick to more modern works of Gerritsen.One out of five stars.Blog Facebook Twitter Mastodon Instagram Pinterest Medium Matrix TumblrCeterum censeo Putin esse delendam

“That evening, the old lady sat in the best place for talking: in the kitchen, on the wooden bench beside the oven.” In the street of the small village I grew up in, there lived (and lives to this day even though she is very, very old now!) a lady of sheer infinite kindness. During the 1980'ties she still used an old oven that burned wood in her wonderfully old-fashioned kitchen. I spent many days there doing my homework for school, warming up on a wooden bench next to said oven or just hanging around listening to her stories. Thus, when I read the introductory quote, I felt immediately reminded of those days during my childhood and I was hoping for being taken back into those simple times. Unfortunately, this was not really to be: Many of the slavic “demons” or rather familiar spirits appearing in this book were part of her stories as well so I did feel a slight connection. Nostalgia isn't enough, though, and this turned out to be a very, very slow read. I almost lost patience with it and might have put it aside for good because too much irked me about this book even though the story is promising: Vasilisa “Vasya” Petrovna is the youngest daughter of Pyotr, the local squire, and Marina, his wife, who dies giving birth to Vasya. Marina's mother had special talents and Marina just knows that Vasya will inherit those. In fact, Vasya is a wild child, a tomboy, very down to earth and connected to nature. Above almost everything else she values (her) freedom. Due to all this, she can actually see the familiar spirits she knows so well from the old stories told by her nurse, Dunya. She lives in harmony with them, feeds them and even talks to them and learns from them. Doom is heralded by harsh winters, though, and the arrival of a new Christian priest who tries to “save” all those “heathens” from their worship of the old gods: “He spoke of things they did not know, of devils and torments and temptation.” And this is where things start to go severely wrong in the book: We're exposed to tons of religious crap. Neither the villagers nor Vasya need saving in the first place – they used to live in peace and harmony with each other and nature and only the arrival of the zealous priest makes things go deeply awry. Religion, and especially Christianity, pretty much poisons the local society depicted here and, true to life, is basically as much a cancer there as it is in our society today. Vasya is the only ray of light in this because she is a free spirit herself: “I would walk into the jaws of hell itself, if it were a path of my own choosing. I would rather die tomorrow in the forest than live a hundred years of the life appointed me.” It takes way too much of the book to get to this point where Vasya finally declares her independence. Of the titular “bear” we first get to hear after almost half the book! The “nightingale” comes even later... Until then we have to deal with religious nuts expressing all the things that are “sinful” and even the well-meaning people like Vasya's father are contemplating how to “save” her: “Marina, thought Pyotr. You left me this mad girl, and I love her well. She is braver and wilder than any of my sons. But what good is that in a woman? I swore I'd keep her safe, but how can I save her from herself?” I wanted to grab Pyotr at that point and club some sense into his thick head! No matter the gender, leave people be the way they want to be and if that includes going wild, so be it. Only when the book is almost over do we get some true development and, thus, a glimpse at how good this book could have been had it gotten to the point a bit quicker: “Morozko spared Vasya a quick, burning glance, and she felt an answering fire rising in her: power and freedom together.” At the end, we get to really feel that fire, the raw (narrative) power that could have made a brilliant book! Alas, it's still too little and too late to raise this book above the two stars I can justify to award it. And, yet, I might actually read the second book of the trilogy to see if it's more of the long-winded same or if Arden actually succeeds in allowing Vasya and Morozko to roam freely and wildly as they should. Blog Facebook Twitter Instagram

»Another book, another JuneAnother sunny afternoonAnother season, another reasonFor breakin' with classics!«(Based on “Makin' Whoopee”, by Gus Kahn)So, 1969 is still too old for me or maybe it's just that this rambling, repetitive, dated-feeling, non-linear novel is a true classic in the worst sense of the word!Supposedly, it focuses on the firebombing of Dresden during World War II but in fact, it's more of an episodic play on war. The protagonist, Billy Pilgrim, is a prisoner of war, an optometrist and a time-traveller (since he suffered a brain trauma and had a major surgery done...) who experiences his life in a non-linear way and tells us about it. Actually, I'm tempted to say he threatens us, because he's become convinced he'll live forever, thus troubling us with his terrible anecdotes.Let's get the most minor annoyance out of the way first: »So it goes.« - that phrase comes up exactly 106 times in a novel of barely 200 pages (yes, every time some kind of death occurs, I know, doesn't make it any better). And it actually felt like a billion times.Several times I fantasised about shooting a bullet at Vonnegut while screaming “So it goes” at the top of my lungs!Also annoying: Billy Pilgrim's brain-surgery induced belief he had been abducted by aliens from the planet »Tralfamadore«. There they put him under a glass dome, abduct a beautiful young actress for him whom he proceeds to impregnate and he lives the life...Yes, I get he tries to rationalise his sense of powerlessness and isolation in a hostile world but I still hated it.»There could be babies without men over sixty-five. There couldn't be babies without other babies who had lived an hour or less after birth. And so on.It was gibberish to Billy.«(As was the novel to me!)Moreover, the novel is also factually wrong in many aspects: Dresden has a long military history dating back to the 16th century, when it became the capital of Saxony and a major political and cultural centre. It was also a fortress city with strong fortifications and a large garrison. During World War 2, Dresden was a military centre for the Nazi regime, hosting several military factories, barracks, headquarters and transportation hubs.For a novel that's supposed to centre on Dresden, arriving at it after almost 75% of the novel has gone is also somewhat strange.Also wrong: »It was the next night that about one hundred and thirty thousand people in Dresden would die. So it goes.«Actually, there were 22.700 to 25.000 victims who died due to those bombings. Why does this matter? Because it's still part of the narrative of the neo-Nazi plague that still infests (primarily) the eastern parts of Germany: While only about 20% of Germany's population lives there, almost half the rightwing-extremist crimes were committed there...»They were literary critics, and they thought Billy was one, too. They were going to discuss whether the novel was dead or not. So it goes.«So, no, the novel itself isn't dead. Just this kind of novel thankfully is. So it goes.One out of five stars.Blog Facebook Twitter Mastodon Instagram Pinterest Medium Matrix TumblrCeterum censeo Putin esse delendam

It pains me to write this but I didn't really like “Age of Death”. Don't get me wrong, it's not a bad book per se. It's just that it feels flat and - ironically - lifeless. That's probably why it took me almost a month to finish it. “Age of Death” starts where [b:Age of Legend 22819354 Age of Legend (The Legends of the First Empire, #4) Michael J. Sullivan https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1562549139l/22819354.SX50.jpg 42370596], the previous book, left off with a huge cliffhanger. Now our heroes move on into, uh, a sort of different realm... No, this won't do: If you haven't read the previous book yet, stop reading this review here - afterwards spoilers for the series as a whole might lurk!So, without further ado: Our heroes waded into the pool and died. They now enter the “afterlife” and meander through the different realms of it. This is my first issue: I'm an antitheist. Even if I suspend my disbelief and my opposition to anything related to faith, I'm simply not interested in any such ideas. [a:Michael J. Sullivan 2063919 Michael J. Sullivan https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1433443335p2/2063919.jpg] is one of my favourite authors but even his ideas on afterlife are irrelevant to me even though I found myself at one time wishing he was right: “In that world beyond the veil of death, we found that those we had thought to be lost forever had only been misplaced.” The blurb tells me: “In the tradition of Virgil's Aeneid, Dante's Divine Comedy, and Milton's Paradise Lost, the most epic of tales transcend the world of the living. It's time to see what lies in Elan's Age of Death.” I haven't read either Virgil, Dante or Milton and I don't intend to. You might consider me a barbarian or uncultured - whatever: I think the “classics” have mostly outlived themselves and belong to the past from which they originated. Amusingly, it was one of those classic authors who expressed a similar thought in a way that has imprinted itself on me at least 30 years ago and has stayed with me ever since: “There are truths which are not for all men, nor for all times.”Voltaire, in a letter to Cardinal de Bernis (23 April 1761) Keep your truths, Dante, and explore your hell but I'm not interested in it. Similarly, I found the ideas Michael expresses somewhat alluring but not really interesting - Brin, Roan, Gifford and the others move through Rel and Nifrel and, yes, have to overcome a lot of obstacles but everything feels slightly off: The pacing is very uneven - there are long passages during which hardly anything happens and then there are huge battles but even those feel somehow anticlimactic - they're all dead already so what danger is there?Yes, there is the danger of losing oneself by not believing enough in oneself being but instead of exploring that idea, it's simply presented and - seemingly - forgotten about. And before I knew it, just before our friends reach their destination, the book ends with yet another cliffhanger. Ok, I half-expected that but in the previous book's “Author's Note” Michael explicitly warned us about it but didn't do so this time so I was hoping... Apart from the issues I've already mentioned there's the fact that a lot of characters, e. g. Persephone, hardly make an entrance. Yes, we see Persephone “in passing”, so to speak, but she isn't really around. Nor are many others, like Suri who might have featured very prominently but only did so shortly early on.It was disappointing for me. And yet... Michael is an amazing author: Whatever he writes about, his storytelling is believable, full of warmth and, well, comforting.If Michael ever did a mystery kickstarter, I'd chime in. Even if I knew nothing and there was no information whatsoever. Because I love how and what Michael writes. “You want to create?” Nyphron said. Malcolm ignored him. “Just consider what could be done if wars were a thing of the past and everyone worked together.”Yes, “Age of Death” was a disappointment but I can't help myself so let me go ahead and say it out loud: Hi, my name's Wulf and I'm a “Sullifan”. ;-) Blog Facebook Twitter Instagram

Marjane Satrapi's Persepolis is a powerful and moving graphic novel that tells the story of the author growing up in Iran. I was pleasantly surprised the graphic novel form succeeded at telling complex and nuanced stories in a highly accessible way.For readers like myself with limited prior knowledge of Iran, the book provides a valuable and accessible window into the complexities of life during this historical period in a country that I for one only associate with the “Axis of Evil” and the brutal oppression of any kind of opposition to the regime.One of the strengths of Persepolis is the way that it makes the experience of living through the revolution and the war tangible. It presented me with a sense of the everyday challenges and fears that people faced, as well as the more profound philosophical questions about identity and beliefs. The book feels so real, so true to life, that an important part of history becomes approachable and more understandable.The story of Persepolis is told through the eyes of Marjane herself, and it follows her journey from childhood to her initial departure from Iran at the age of 14. She experiences the upheaval of the “Islamic Revolution” and the Iran-Iraq War. Throughout the book, Marjane grapples with the complexities of life in post-revolutionary Iran, including the restrictions placed on women, the political repression and violence that she witnesses, and the challenges of navigating her own identity and beliefs.However, it is also important to note that Persepolis is written from the point of view of a privileged girl. Satrapi comes from a well-educated and politically active family, and her experiences growing up during the revolution are heavily influenced by her family's status. While this does not diminish the power of the story she tells, it is worth considering the ways in which her perspective may be different from that of others who lived through revolution and war.On the other hand, it is doubtful a less privileged voice would have had both the opportunity and means to tell this story in such a powerful way. It seems much more likely for this story to never have been told had it been experienced by someone else.Satrapi's art style is simple, yet effective, and the black-and-white images complement the story perfectly. The use of the graphic novel format allows her to convey information and emotions in a way that would be difficult to achieve through text alone. For example, the scenes of political repression and violence are particularly powerful, and the images of Marjane's family members being arrested and executed are both haunting and moving.Despite the serious subject matter, Persepolis is also filled with moments of humour and satire, which help to lighten the mood and provide a respite from the often-heavy subject matter. A very interesting graphic novel that garners four stars out of five. The second instalment is already waiting to be read.Blog Facebook Twitter Mastodon Instagram Pinterest Medium Matrix TumblrCeterum censeo Putin esse delendam

I'm not even sure when I got this book. It probably was part of some Kickstarter campaign of Michael's and Robin's which I had the honour to participate in. So I simply had to read it!This “Making of” book was simply supposed to answer the age-old questions every author gets asked: »Where do you get your ideas? How long does it take you to write a book? How do you come up with the names? Do you write every day?«Michael J. Sullivan is one of my favourite authors and, thus, I was highly interested in these rather standard questions; I just didn't expect answers as good as these: »In school, they may have learned about symbolism and metaphors, but no one said anything about which software program to use, how much of an outline to build before you begin writing, or what music to listen to while typing.«Starting with the initial questions, Michael explains how he works. This will likely not entirely work for everyone but the techniques and ideas Michael presents are an excellent starting point to actually and consciously think about how to get started with writing. A great many of said ideas make a lot of sense to me at least.It doesn't even stop at the playlists but even includes interesting material about the hardware (including Moleskin notebooks, a fountain pen and an inkwell!) and software (Scrivener) Michael uses, how he uses it and even employs screenshots and photos to make sure everyone gets at least an idea. It's not too much either - just the amount needed to - figuratively - taste blood!The creative process Michael describes in great detail, using his book “[b:The Death of Dulgath 24683898 The Death of Dulgath (The Riyria Chronicles, #3) Michael J. Sullivan https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1440823815l/24683898.SY75.jpg 44301324]” as an example, is indeed absolutely fascinating. Spoilers are unavoidable in such a situation but, as always, Michael warns us about that fact and truly prominently marks spoilers for his other books. Exemplary.We also get tiny glimpses into Michael's past, e. g. ...»When I first started writing, I worked on a manual typewriter. It was 1975, personal computers didn't exist.«... and some other interesting ones - including photos of manuscripts from that time. You'll have to get this book to get to know more about all that stuff that any “Sullifan” - your's truly included - might want to know!So far, I've only taken into account Michael's parts of this book but his wife and co-author, Robin, takes meticulous care to describe the business side of things in several chapters. The most prominent and interesting one to me was “Contracts and Deadlines” in which she describes what to be careful about in contracts, etc. While I have no immediate relation to these topics, it was nevertheless highly interesting to learn about them. Engagingly presented, even the rather “dry” contract subject matter becomes an almost riveting account of the adventures in the publishing world.Last but not least, Robin tells us about her tiring and yet tireless work on the Kickstarter campaigns she famously runs together with Michael. »I want to explain what we did in the hope of helping other authors run successful campaigns.«In fact, this is what the entire book is very clearly about: Helping and supporting others. No other author I know of has published such a fascinating account on his work.The only minor criticism I have is that the Kickstarter campaign information could have been a bit more verbose. A little more about that would have been nice but maybe that could be the next one's stretch goal! ;-)This book is highly recommended to any “Sullifan” but those probably don't need any encouragement anyway. It's also recommended to any aspiring author or generally anyone interested in learning about how Robin and Michael J. Sullivan work hand-in-hand to create literature for the 21st century. Thanks, Michael and Robin!Blog Facebook Twitter Instagram

An investigator in an alternative Egypt with ghuls, djinn, angels, other-worldly foes, a plethora of faiths and all set in a steampunk world.The writing is nothing special, the plot still mostly to-be-found at the end of this thankfully very short novella - this is pretty much the most boring novella I've read in years. The most redeeming feature of the simplistically named “A Dead Djinn in Cairo” is its brevity. Blog Facebook Twitter Instagram

“Margret,” he said, “you are my child. I forgave you all your sins on the first day of your life.”



This book has been lauded for a lot of things – supporting feminism, its share of LGBT characters, its absolutely gorgeous cover and I'm sure it would heal the Draconic plague as well were the latter real.

The problem is, though: This book is way too long. The entire first third of the book basically consists only of (court) politics and scheming. There is no real storyline to follow yet; it's basically all just building up slowly to the real story which is all the more sad as behind all the convoluted, long-winded, stilted writing hides a decent (albeit not very original) story:

After a thousand years of imprisonment by our heroes' ancestors, the “Nameless One” – a dragon – is going to return and wreak havoc all over the world. Few people know this secret and even fewer are prepared and willing to actually do something about it.

Tané, a young lowly-born orphan, wants to become a dragon rider of “the East's” sea guard but hides many a secret herself, harbours self-doubt beyond any reason and is one of those glorious few who rise to the challenge and act.

Sabran is the queen of Inys, a part of “Virtudom”, a political and religious alliance based on chivalric virtues, both pretty much the religious and secular leader and – by religious doctrine – the final bulwark against the Nameless One's return.

Ead is a spy from the eponymous Priory of the Orange Tree at Sabran's court and the latter's confidant. She's a capable combatant, honourable and virtuous (in more than just name) and fairly ambitious, aspiring to rise (out of her murdered mother's shadow to beat!) from her respected but lowly position to much more exalted positions in the priory, meanwhile protecting and counselling Sabran, battling the Nameless One and pretty much anything else that threatens her or her charge.

And Ead is pretty much the boulder upon which this book precariously rests – and remains standing albeit an avalanche of issues. In short: Ead rocks!



So, to quickly summarise: We have a time-proven (formulaic) plot of good versus evil, we have three young women who will have to rise and shine beyond anything they ever expected, we have chivalric values codified into religion which complicates an already complex court and we still have about 70% of the book ahead of us...



And I must not forget to introduce the last two narrators:

Niclays Roos, an aging alchemist, on the other hand is a scoundrel, a villain from the books (sic!), an opportunist of the worst kind. Having tried to find the formula for a potion for eternal life his whole life long, he has been banished from Virtudom because Sabran lost her misplaced belief in Roos. He's willing to blackmail himself out of any situation and would pretty much sell his grandmother or his own soul if it gave him an advantage.

Last but not (quite) least, there's Loth: Sir Arteloth “Loth” Beck is the proverbial knight in shining armour – good-natured, honourable, an embodiment almost of the chivalric virtues but, alas, pretty much hapless and forgettable. He's a nice-to-have-but-expendable sidekick, reliable and more lucky than competent.

That concludes the story and the most important dramatis personae but don't despair if you're into complex settings – after all there are about (wait for it...) 130 characters in total you'll read about.

The long-winded, stilted narration in the beginning and the complexity are in fact the most important issues that drag this book down. Yes, the plot is formulaic, yes, the characters are “somewhat” archetypical as well but – and this is why “Priory” still gets three stars from me – when Shannon overcomes her own inhibition to go beyond what she seems to feel are the limitations of her genre, you feel the raw potential of an author who needs refinement, who needs someone to encourage her to break free from convention.

Shannon already does this fairly nicely when it comes to her heroines: First of all, almost all major characters (and lots of minor ones) are female. Not the helpless “damsel in distress” kind either but the strong and independent kind. I like that. What I like even more about it is, that it is – mostly! –unobtrusive – I didn't even really notice this until I actually thought about it analytically. Of course, I knew Ead (did I mention she rocks?) and Tané are young women but I didn't really care at all – why shouldn't women be heroic and protagonists in fantasy?

So, yes, Priory can be read as feministic but in the way I personally prefer – not artificially trying to make a political statement or to throw it in the reader's face but to simply “organically” make the point.

Similarly, the LGBT aspect works well for me: The LGB (T is missing) relationships are mostly well-written and believable – at least the female perspective (which, naturally, eludes me to some extent) reads well and is intrinsically plausible. I'm not quite as convinced about the male perspective: We only get to witness Roos's and Jannart's (Roos's dead nobly-born lover) relationship post-factum as Jannart has died years before the book even starts. To me, a bisexual man, while not outright wrong, the remembered interactions do feel a bit “off” but that could be me.

As well as with feminism, tolerance/acceptance/open-mindedness/you-name-it towards LGBT (which is one of two major topics in my life) isn't asked for or forced upon anyone. On the contrary: The relationship between Ead and her lover develops believably (again, from a male point of view at least) and organically which I appreciate greatly.

And, still, “The Priory of the Orange Tree” is, sadly, not a great book albeit written by an author who has the potential for greatness.

Whereas other authors simply try to bite off too much for their own good and overexert their limited talents, Shannon does have the talent required to write a great tale but lacks in experience. Thus, she makes a lot of mistakes even beyond the length of her novel, like killing off characters without it making much of a difference to anyone:

“Forgive me,” he said thickly. “Forgive me, [...].”

... says one of our protagonists after one such needless death and that's pretty much it. The victim does get a few “honourable mentions” but his death changes nothing. Do not kill off characters without a good reason and without an important impact on either the story or another character. The death here does nothing of the kind.

At other points in the story, Shannon is needlessly gory in her story-telling, e. g.:

“A musket fired and blew her guts across the cobblestones.”

This is simply not warranted and often annoys me and turns me away from a book.

Similarly, in contrast to her afore-mentioned subtlety and sensitivity Shannon sometimes has a tendency to be too explicit or in-your-face-ish:

“Something was changing in her. A feeling, small as a rosebud, was opening its petals.”

At the point in the story this occurs, any even slightly sensitive reader will long have envisioned said rosebud themselves. We've just been witness to the change we're explicitly being told about here so it would better have been left unsaid.

Another even more poignant example comes towards the end of the book where Shannon thinks she has to really spell it out:

“A woman is more than a womb to be seeded.”

Yes, any sane person knows that and – I'm sorry – those who don't are beyond redemption anyway.



Anyway, before I fall prey to overstaying my own welcome, let me summarise: “The Priory of the Orange Tree” is definitely overly long – only after almost two thirds of the book things really do start to happen.

There's also way too much religious stuff around for my taste (“Virtudom”, “Dukes Spiritual”, I don't need any of that) and, yes, some of the characters are formulaic and some sentences make me cringe (“Abandoning all hope of Halgalant [paradise], Loth waded after the murderous wyrm-lover.”)

Behind all that verbosity, formulas and some cringeyness hides a story that's worth telling, characters worth knowing (Ead!) and an author that I'm going to keep an eye on.

Too dozy for a proper review: Gripping, not as excessively violent as the predecessor, interesting setting on a body farm, Kim's brilliant, surprising developments, good twists – Marsons really nailed it here!

As did Barry in his review here: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/5248382904

This is another short story by Michael which he published separately as part of one of his Kickstarter campaigns. It's about Troth, a previously minor Non-Player Character (NPC), who “lives” in a Massively Multi-player Role Playing Game (MMORPG) and suddenly develops sentience. The premise is interesting and the story well-told (how could it not be, it's a Sullivan!). It's just that it's a bit... short. Given that this is a short story, well, I guess I'll let it slide... ;-) Recommended to anyone with 30 minutes to spare. Blog Facebook Twitter Instagram

Widerlicher Schund

Lange habe ich nicht mehr ein solch widerwärtiges Buch gelesen. Ich hatte nur den Klappentext gelesen, der ganz nett klang, aber was dann kam...

Brutalität - nun gut, wem's gefällt.
Sexismus - wer's nötig hat...
Humor - der Humor eines Pubertierenden ist intelligenter, aber gut, auch hier mögen sich die Geister scheiden.

Sexuelle Gewalt gegen Kinder, brutalste Vergewaltigung eingeschlossen, ist aber extrem widerlich, verachtenswürdig und - auch in einem Machwerk wie diesem - unverzeihlich. Nach der Lektüre fühle ich mich beschmutzt und angeekelt.

Der gesamte Tenor des Buches ist extrem menschenverachtend und ich kann nichts darin finden, was auch nur ansatzweise als Rechtfertigung dienen könnte.

“Familien sind Bücher, die mit Blut geschrieben werden. Die Erinnerung an den Anfang schwindet, je näher man dem Ende kommt. Die vorderen Seiten mögen vom Gewicht der hinteren erdrückt werden, aber jedes Blutbuch braucht sämtliche Seiten mit all ihren Makeln, um vollständig zu sein.” Es gibt keinen Zweifel: [a:Kai Meyer 54201 Kai Meyer https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1276520993p2/54201.jpg] schreibt (meist) sehr, sehr schön und kann sowohl spannend und schnell als auch mitreißend und mit “Tiefgang”. Den ersten Teil dieser Trilogie, “[b:Die Seiten der Welt 22008478 Die Seiten der Welt (Die Seiten der Welt, #1) Kai Meyer https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1418074683s/22008478.jpg 41320525]”, habe ich im Herbst 2015 gelesen und mich sofort in diese wunderbare Welt verliebt. Mit phantastischen (sic!) Einfällen, viel Charme und Warmherzigkeit zog mich die Magie des Romans schnell in ihren Bann. Auch den zweiten Teil, “[b:Nachtland 25154027 Nachtland (Die Seiten der Welt, #2) Kai Meyer https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1426514526s/25154027.jpg 44856198]”, habe ich im Frühjahr 2016 sehr gern gelesen. Tatsächlich finden sich beide Bücher in meinen Favoriten wieder. Nun ist es 2019, mehr als drei Jahre nach meinem letzten Ausflug zwischen die Seiten der Welt. Furia, die Heldin der Trilogie, und mittlerweile Freiheitskämpferin erscheint mir weitgehend unverändert - und doch konnte mich dieser dritte und letzte Band nicht mehr so mitreißen wie seine Vorgänger. Die Geschichte, die sich leider allzu kurz und knapp zusammenfassen läßt: Furia und ihre altbekannten Freunde kämpfen gegen ihre altbekannten Gegner, die sich nichts Neues einfallen lassen. Man jagt sich durch Refugien, die Außenwelt und nichts ist wirklich überraschend oder neu. Als wäre das noch nicht bedauerlich genug, so schleppt sich die Erzählung - vermutlich mangels inhaltlicher Masse – mehr oder minder einfach so dahin. Die große, beinahe noch einmal kindliche Freude (und ich bin 43!), die ich angesichts der ersten Bände empfand, ist diesmal nur ganz selten einmal aufgekommen (ja, die Leseratten haben mir Freude gemacht!). Auch einzelne Stellen, z. B. die des einleitenden Zitats, haben mein Herz höherschlagen lassen, aber ich war nicht der “Getriebene”, der “nur noch ein Kapitel” lesen wollte. Das alles ist so schade, denn die Ideen (sic!) sind großartig (mit Ausnahme der Begegnung hinter dem Spiegel...) und Kai Meyer, dessen Bücher ich grundsätzlich schätze, kann viel mehr. Schade um so viel Potential, aber vielleicht brauchte Meyer ja auch ein Ende für einen neuen Anfang, damit sich die letzten Worte des Buches bewahrheiten können - jedenfalls wünsche ich ihm (und mir!) das: “Aber wenn dieses Ende auch ein Anfang ist, dann gäbe es keines, das mir lieber wäre.”

For about 30 years I've been a fan of [a:Isabel Allende's 2238 Isabel Allende https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1341879973p2/2238.jpg] work, starting with her amazing “[b:The House of the Spirits 9328 The House of the Spirits Isabel Allende https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1621672028l/9328.SY75.jpg 3374404]” (highly recommended as an introduction to her work). Allende's style of magical realism, her strong storytelling and her beautiful prose so far have always managed to capture my heart.“[b:Eva Luna 149196 Eva Luna Isabel Allende https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1478631242l/149196.SY75.jpg 874452]” was no exception to this rule: Allende's writing is lush and evocative, and she creates a vivid sense of place and time. The unnamed South American country in which the novel is set is brought to life with rich detail, from the bustling streets of the city to the quiet beauty of the countryside. Allende's descriptions of the natural world are particularly striking, and she imbues even the most mundane objects with a sense of magic and wonder. The way she weaves in themes of magical realism throughout the novel is truly masterful.Even though the country is never named, it never ceases to fascinate me that it's strongly inspired by Allende's native Chile. She has acknowledged that the novel draws heavily on her own experiences growing up in Chile, and many of the political and social events depicted in this and many of her other novels are based on real-life events that occurred in Chile during the 20th century. I remember the grim news of the dictatorship of Augusto Pinochet who overthrew and assassinated democratically elected President Salvador Allende who was Allende's cousin. To me, this makes Allende's work even more important.The character of Eva Luna is also a standout. Eva's gift for storytelling is a central element of the novel, and Allende uses it to explore the power of narrative and its ability to shape reality. Eva is a complex and compelling character, and I found myself rooting for her throughout the novel. Her resilience in the face of adversity is inspiring, and her ability to find joy and beauty in even the darkest of circumstances is a testament to the human spirit.The novel's exploration of political turmoil and social injustice is also powerful. Allende does not shy away from difficult topics, and she portrays the violence and oppression of the time with unflinching honesty. Rolf Carlé, a guerilla fighter and Eva's love interest, is particularly compelling in this regard. His passion for justice and his willingness to risk everything for his beliefs are both admirable and heartbreaking.However, I do have some reservations about the novel. At times, the plot can feel disjointed, and the jumps in time can be confusing. Additionally, some of the secondary characters feel underdeveloped, and their motivations remain unclear. The novel's episodic structure can also make it feel like a series of loosely connected stories rather than a cohesive narrative. The novel's themes of love, power, and storytelling itself are universal and both these themes and the story itself - despite having been published almost 40 years ago - feel timeless and relevant independently of age and place.Four out of five stars.Blog Facebook Twitter Mastodon Instagram Pinterest Medium Matrix TumblrCeterum censeo Putin esse delendam

I've actually read this novel quite a few years ago but never published this review at my usual haunts. This is especially sad since “The Invisible Library” went on to become one of my favourite fantasy series despite the steampunk elements which I don't really like.Thus, I was a wee bit sceptical: The premise of a secret society of librarians traversing alternate realities to collect rare books seemed almost too fantastical: With Dragons on the order-extremist side of the order/chaos spectrum and the Fae, fantastical creatures of all kinds, on the chaos-extremist side and the afore-mentioned Library somewhere in-between, shady and obsessive humans, this sounded rather... wild!And yet, only shortly after our protagonist, Irene, a resourceful and quick-witted Librarian, embarks on her mission, I was smitten. Assigned to retrieve a unique version of Grimm's Fairy Tales from an alternate London riddled with chaos, she teams up with the dashing and enigmatic Dragon Kai, who harbours a few secrets of his own...Cogman's world-building is nothing short of masterful. The alternate London we're introduced to is a steampunk-inspired wonder, complete with airships, clockwork contraptions, and a healthy dose of Victorian intrigue. Even a real-life Sherlock Holmes counterpart comes along on the ride! The fantastical elements are deftly woven into the fabric of the story, creating a seamless blend of the familiar and the fantastical.As a bibliophile and passionate reader, I found the concept of The Library utterly enchanting. This mysterious, interdimensional institution exists between realities and acts as a repository for the world's knowledge. The Library's Librarians are bound by a strict code, but the allure of forbidden knowledge constantly tempts them, adding a delicious layer of complexity to the narrative.The novel's magic system, referred to as ‘The Language,' is equally captivating. Librarians like Irene are able to manipulate reality by speaking in this ancient and powerful tongue. The way Cogman explores the potential and limitations of this magic is both thought-provoking and genuinely thrilling.Countering this is the Dragon magic which allows them to manipulate reality and bend it to their will. Their magic is tied to their emotions, and they can use it to create illusions, teleport, and even manipulate time.Additionally, Dragons also have physical abilities that are beyond human capabilities, such as enhanced strength, speed, and senses. They are also incredibly long-lived and can take on human form if they choose to do so.The Fae's magic is tied to their nature as creatures of chaos. Their magic is rather unpredictable, chaotic at times, and can have unintended consequences. Like the Dragon's magic their magic is also tied to their emotions.However, the Fae's magic is also tied to their word, and their ability to make deals and bargains. They can use their magic to create powerful oaths and contracts, which are binding and cannot be broken without severe consequences. This makes the Fae powerful negotiators and manipulators, as they can use their magic to influence others and gain the upper hand in any situation. This is also in-line with traditional fairy tales like the Grimms' and adds to the overall allure of those characters.What really brings this novel and the entire series to life, though, are the amazing characters: Irene is a strong, intelligent, and deeply relatable protagonist. She's not without her flaws, but her dedication to her work and her sense of duty make her an admirable heroine. Kai, with his enigmatic past and smouldering charm, is the perfect foil for Irene, and their chemistry is undeniable and, uhm, manifests physically... The array of secondary characters, from the cunning and treacherous Alberich to the enigmatic and morally ambiguous Lord Silver, only serve to enrich this already engrossing tale.Cogman's writing style is both elegant and engaging, and her ability to seamlessly blend genres and balance humour, action, and heart is a testament to her prowess as a storyteller. The breakneck pace of the plot kept me on the edge of my seat, and the twists and turns were utterly unexpected.In conclusion, “The Invisible Library” is a resplendent, enchanting, and downright exhilarating read that left me craving for more. Genevieve Cogman has crafted a world that captivates the imagination and characters that linger in the heart long after the final page is turned. Meanwhile, I've long turned that final page (of the entire series even!) but I'm still hoping that Genevieve Cogman will - at some point - return to this fabulous multiverse and its inhabitants which brought me so much fun. The one star I withhold is due to some rough edges in this first instalment which is nevertheless a great overture to an amazing series.Four out of five stars!Blog Facebook Twitter Mastodon Instagram Pinterest Medium Matrix TumblrCeterum censeo Putin esse delendam

I read “[b:Lost Girls 26123233 Lost Girls (DI Kim Stone, #3) Angela Marsons https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1588321593l/26123233.SY75.jpg 46071624]” by [a:Angela Marsons 7942666 Angela Marsons https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1419947389p2/7942666.jpg] because I really like Kim Stone as an investigator. Stone is often harsh at least, sometimes to the point of callously offending anyone who hasn't earned her respect. She is also desperately compartmentalising her gruesome childhood and youth to be able to merely “function”.I simply cannot help but root for such a person. As for the three novels I've read by now, I've generally found Marsons' books to be a reasonably decent way to pass the time, offering a reliable dose of police procedural with Kim Stone at the helm.However, this one felt a bit of a misstep, venturing into territory that, for me at least, felt unnecessarily grim. Marsons herself states, »Each story is intended to entertain and take the reader on an exciting, interesting journey. There are some subjects in the books that are difficult to stomach but I aim to treat each situation with respect and sensitivity and not sensationalism.«It's a noble aim, but I'm not entirely sure this novel hits the mark. The rest of this review will be full of revealing quotations and unabashedly present spoiler after spoiler. You have been warned.The premise of “Lost Girls” hinges on the abduction of children. We follow Kim Stone and her team as they try to unravel the mystery, but we also get glimpses into the world of the kidnappers, a choice that, frankly, didn't work for me. As one of my notes states regarding the kidnappers' perspective, it was just too unsubtle and flat-out violent. “Subject One” is depicted as an “evil genius” type of criminal, whereas “Subject Two” is sculpted as a sociopathic “killing machine”. Both remain at this generic level of characterisation. While their respective motives are somewhat clear, there are no convincing explanations and, in the case of “Subject Two”, a strongly hyperbolised attempt to make him feel plausible.The choice of “Subject Three” seemed completely absurd to me.I cannot even quote from these passages because they'd display extreme violence against young animals and children.A level of brutality is shown that I cannot help but feel reflects back on the author.There were signature “Kim moments” where the dialogue felt amusing, such as this, in which she speaks to her superior:»She tipped her head. ‘How could you have been so sure?'‘Because you were told you couldn't have it – and you don't like that one little bit.'Kim opened her mouth and closed it again. For once she could not disagree.«In “Lost Girls”, however, the relentless focus on the darker aspects often overshadowed the more nuanced elements. For example, I found the parents quite interesting, especially Karen and Robert, but they remain sadly underused.The level of depravity explored felt excessive, or, as Marsons puts it, it is »a level of depravity that went beyond any case [Kim had] worked«, and indeed, it's a level I don't particularly want to read about. There's a disturbing element to making the victims young children. As a father of three I was deeply horrified. While I appreciate that crime fiction often delves into unpleasant realities, this felt gratuitous at times, leaning towards shock value rather than serving the story.At around the halfway mark, I even considered a DNF, given the excessive violence.Kim Stone's character, while usually compelling in her relentless pursuit of justice, verged on being almost unlikeable here.There's a scene where she's contemplating a victim:»Kim had to agree but this was a crime scene she viewed dispassionately. Inga had made choices. She had been party to the abduction of innocent children. Yes, this pitiful figure had felt fear but she was now free of that fear. For two little girls, it went on. She hoped.«This reaction seems cold-hearted and devoid of empathy, overstating Kim's character. While her tough exterior is part of her appeal, the dispassionate view of the crime scene felt a bit much this time around. It's one of my core convictions that absolutely nobody deserves to die - no matter what someone did. This point of view also was reflected in the first Kim Stone novel. By Kim herself.The raw fear experienced by the victims, Charlie and Amy, is palpable in moments like this:»Amy cried out and Charlie pulled her close, unable to speak. The fear had paralysed her throat because a part of her had realised the truth.Tomorrow they were going to die.«While undeniably impactful, it ultimately felt unnecessary, included more for pure shock value than any real contribution to the story.There's a sense that Marsons, in attempting to tackle such a sensitive subject, perhaps lost her footing. She recognised the potential pitfalls, as evidenced by her statement, but the execution didn't quite land for me. Compared to other crime thrillers, this one felt heavier on the grim details without offering sufficient depth or nuance in other areas.Ultimately, “Lost Girls” wasn't a complete disaster, but it certainly wasn't my favourite from Angela Marsons. The subject matter felt heavy-handed, and the relentless focus on violence detracted from the more engaging aspects of her writing.Three out of five stars.Blog Facebook Twitter Mastodon Instagram Pinterest Medium Matrix TumblrCeterum censeo Putin esse delendam

Basically, the blurb says it all – a (book) hoarder in a post-apocalyptic world lives among his tons of books and realises he'll have to burn some of them. Unfortunately, he's not the brightest bulb (not even in a world without power!) and, thus, disaster happens. This is a nice-ish short story without any connection to Michael's other works. It pretty much lives from the setting (books filling a small house entirely – sans a few “paths” - lovely though in theory!), the “name-dropping” (all the big post-modern names appear) and the central dilemma of burning books. The latter is this short story's saving grace in my book because as Heinrich Heine, the great German poet, wrote as early as 1823 (and, thus, eerily predicting the Holocaust): “Dort wo man Bücher verbrennt, verbrennt man auch am Ende Menschen.” (“Where books are burned, in the end, people will also be burned.”) Might be worth a read if the above sounds interesting to you but, honestly, you won't really miss much if you skip this one. If, though, you've reached the point at which you secretly (cough) adore the ground Michael treadslevitates above, it's a must-read. ;-) Blog Facebook Twitter Instagram

This is the kind of book most of my fellow males will avoid like the plague. All the more so if they ever - by accident, of course! - happen to come across the “Author's Note” in this book which explicitly states “Since my readers are almost exclusively women”...Well, here I am, and I profess: I greatly enjoyed this book despite knowing that it most certainly is (mostly) literary fast food - good to sate ones primal desires but not really nourishing.And I couldn't care less.I really enjoyed the lovely family dynamics between the Bridgertons and I loved the witty bantering between Anthony and Kate. I just can't help but root for such wonderful characters and their relationships, their eccentricities and how they overcome them.Is it realistic? Not at all. Historically accurate? Very unlikely. Romantic, cute and thoroughly enjoyable? To me at least, absolutely.You'll have to be able to generously ignore macho “gems” like this one...»It was as if a certain side of her were visible only to him. He loved that her charms were hidden to the rest of the world. It made her seem more his.«... which this book features in numbers. The men are “real men” (and hardly stop short at clubbing their female prey and dragging them to their cave), the women are kind and gentle and it doesn't take much to dishonour a lady for life... If you can stomach that, you might find yourself actually enjoying it. Four out of five stars for this guilty pleasure. Blog Facebook Twitter Instagram

“Survival is a journey. It is the quest that underlies all stories. No matter the geography, or culture, or era, in one form or another, the story of survival is the same story we listen to, riveted, around the flames of the hunter's fire. Or hear from the mouth of the astronaut returned from a burning spaceship, or from the woman who trumped cancer. We listen in the hopes of learning what magic they used to conquer a great beast, to deliver a decisive victory, to make it alone down the peaks of Everest alive . . .” Wow, what a ride! This was probably the most suspenseful novel I've read this year so far. Basically, it's a story about survival: Olivia West, sole survivor of the “Watt Lake Killer” who died in prison, works anonymously on Broken Bar Ranch as its manager when a body is discovered. The victim's remains have been put on display in the same way the dead killer used to do and weird things – coincidences? – begin to happen on Broken Bar Ranch. A cop who worked on the side-lines of the original Watt Lake case – now dying from cancer – never believed the real killer had been apprehended and, thus, he's out with his young daughter, Tori, to catch the right guy this time... It's hard to find fault with a book that's as engaging and exciting as this one. Of course, it's not high literature but it's nearly perfect for what it is. At times, it shows that before this book, White wrote “romantic suspense” books for about ten years, e. g. when our heroine, Olivia, gets all excited reading: “She was turned on by the masculine beauty of his prose, the clean, muscular sentences that bespoke a latent empathy in the author.” Uhm... Right. This does read a bit weird to me but it's easy to overlook because at no point does this book get boring: Frequent switches of perspectives and places take place but I always knew exactly what was going on which is a big plus for me. The backstory of the Watt Lake killer is told by means of a book written by Tori's late mother and makes for chilling interludes. Just like Tori... “Tori's vision was blurring, and she could hear her father's deep, rhythmic snores coming from the other room. But she was unable to put her e-reader down.” ... this book kept me glued to my Kindle. Highly recommended to anyone who likes to read a good thriller! Blog Facebook Twitter Instagram

I was very much looking forward to reading “[b:Evil Games 25067570 Evil Games (DI Kim Stone, #2) Angela Marsons https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1588321125l/25067570.SY75.jpg 44752433]” by [a:Angela Marsons 7942666 Angela Marsons https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1419947389p2/7942666.jpg], having just discovered what an interesting detective Kim Stone is. Sadly, this second instalment in Marsons' long-running series didn't hold up the promise of its predecessor.There are actually two mysteries in “Evil Games” and both are completely unrelated, making the novel feel somewhat disjointed. While in the first storyline, Kim and her team have just apprehended a child molester, in the titular storyline Kim is going solo after a rogue psychiatrist.Both storylines leave much to be desired: The case of the child molester is pretty much solved from the beginning and the team is trying to find a secondary perpetrator. There is no suspense in that part, especially since very basic procedures, e. g. comparing DNA found at the crime scene against easily accessible samples, are not even thought of. The solution pretty much occurs to Kim at the last possible moment in the novel and it's kind of a “deus ex machina” moment of dubious probability (just like the culprit themself...).The investigation against the psychiatrist is even worse: Said psychiatrist, Alex, is not only depicted as a genius-level manipulator who in the course of one single session can talk people into committing major crimes. She also seems to have almost everyone in her pocket under threat of revealing dark secrets. Miraculously, Alex finds out everything about everyone in very short periods of time, gets access even to violent inmates of asylums and easily coerces the staff into violating their confidentiality obligations with just a bright smile.I just cannot buy into that kind of super villain outside of superhero stories.Kim herself knows full well that Alex could unravel her completely, and yet ignores the advice of a former psychiatrist and mentor of hers and doesn't make use of his expertise in any meaningful way. Kim keeps getting triggered by Alex in each and every meeting of the two but at a pivotal moment, she seemingly effortlessly ignores even the worst possible of Alex' attempts to trigger her.Considering Alex' super villain status, that completely defied even the already implausible premises of the novel.And there's one more thing that really annoyed me:»Kim refilled her coffee mug thinking, Jesus, I'm trying to nail Mother Theresa.«(The misspelling is the author's.)Mother Teresa's legacy is deeply problematic and undeserving of uncritical reverence. She glorified suffering instead of alleviating it, denying patients proper medical care and hygiene in her facilities. She opposed contraception and abortion, worsening poverty and systemic suffering, and accepted donations from corrupt individuals while mismanaging funds. Her theology prioritized suffering “martyrdom” over real solutions, and her approach to “charity” often perpetuated misery rather than addressing its root causes. Many still view this despicable and disgusting person as a saint, but in reality, her actions often caused harm. Her legacy should be a cautionary tale about blind hero-worship and unaccountable humanitarian work.Overall, this was a mediocre read, earning three stars out of five.Blog Facebook Twitter Mastodon Instagram Pinterest Medium Matrix TumblrCeterum censeo Putin esse delendam

First things first: I'd like to discourage you from reading this novel because the trilogy as planned by Rothfuss is still unfinished and Kvothe's amazing story remains untold in large parts. I got this book as a gift from a colleague and despite having been similarly warned by him, I devoured it!Rothfuss has masterfully crafted a world that is both rich in detail and vivid in imagination, making it impossible for me to put down.The story centres around the life of Kvothe, an almost legendary wizard, musician and Kingkiller who is now living in obscurity as an innkeeper. The plot weaves together Kvothe's past and present, with each chapter revealing more about his past and how it has shaped the person he has become. The characters in the book are beautifully crafted, with each one having their own unique personality that adds depth and colour to the story.One of the things I loved most about “The Name of the Wind” was Rothfuss' writing style. His prose is lyrical and poetic, making even the most mundane scenes come alive with vivid imagery. This style of writing, coupled with the intricate world-building, drew me in from the very first page and kept me invested in the story until the very end. (Which made the fact that it's only the end of the book all the more aggravating!)Another aspect of the book that I found particularly impressive was the magic system. The way in which magic works in this world is both complex and fascinating, with different types of magic being tied to music and other creative expressions. Overall, I would highly recommend “The Name of the Wind” to anyone who enjoys fantasy - if only it were finished. The second instalment in the trilogy is similarly great compared to this one, albeit a bit more “explicit” in some aspects...I just hope I'll live to see the infamous “Doors of Stone”, the final novel in the trilogy, published. In contrast to, let's say George R. R. Martin, whom I've written off as a complete and unredeemable loss, I fully intend to read Rothfuss one last time.NB: If you read this and think “this author owes you nothing”, you'd generally be right but Rothfuss actually told us, the trilogy was completely finished several times and promised yearly releases, e. g. here: https://fantasyhotlist.blogspot.com/2007/03/patrick-rothfuss-interview.htmlEven his editor is disillusioned to say the least: https://www.newsweek.com/kingkiller-chronicle-editor-believes-author-hasnt-written-anything-years-1520812Nevertheless, for what Rothfuss gave us with “The Name of the Wind” I cannot help but grudgingly award five stars out of five.Blog Facebook Twitter Mastodon Instagram Pinterest Medium Matrix TumblrCeterum censeo Putin esse delendam

Ein Jahrhundert-Roman

Wie ein mächtiger Strom ist „Altes Land“ - mal ruhig und unaufgeregt erzählend von der Familie Eckhoff, Heinrich „Hinni“ Lührs und anderen Bewohnern des alten Landes, dann wieder mitreißend und voller Kraft.

Dörte Hansen erzählt mit größtmöglichem Respekt und großer Behutsamkeit von und über ihre Protagonisten. Keiner von ihnen ist frei von Fehlern, frei von Schuld, und alle erhalten Raum, ihren Blickwinkel darzulegen. So wird schwer Verständliches nicht besser, aber doch nachvollziehbarer. Man muss diese Menschen nicht mögen, aber es ist fast unmöglich, sich ihnen zu entziehen.

Das liegt wahrscheinlich auch daran, dass man Hansens Protagonisten beinahe zu kennen meint: Die Öko-„Familienmanagerinnen“, deren Kinder in die frühkindliche Begabtenförderung gequält werden, der alte Landwirt, der weiß, dass ihm niemand mehr nachfolgen wird und der trotzdem nicht aus seiner Haut kann, die seltsame (oder zumindest so wahrgenommene) ewig „Zugezogene“ - sie alle entstammen dem alten Land oder finden sich darin.

Es sind aber alles Menschen, die nicht nur dort anzutreffen sind, sondern die glaubwürdig und lebensecht in jeder Art von kleinem Ort leben könnten.

Meine Vera heißt Leane und lebt - mittlerweile über 90 Jahre alt - in einem kleinen Dorf irgendwo in Deutschland. Auch sie war geflohen und war jemand in Not, so war sie da und ihre Tür (natürlich die Hintertür!) stand (nicht nur) mir immer offen.
So vieles habe ich „wiedererkannt“ ohne jemals im alten Land gewesen zu sein. Über weite Teile des Romans hatte ich das Gefühl, Hansen schriebe mir förmlich aus der Seele.

Für mich ist „Altes Land“ ein Jahrhundert-Roman, ein seltener und kostbarer Glücksfall der Literatur, der mich begleiten wird wie sonst wohl nur Thomas Manns Buddenbrooks.