Jacob Tender
Attacks the same ideas from the viewpoint of several characters: what happens when you buck societal expectations?
A little rigid in places, very tender in others. I had a difficult time keeping track of points of view from time to time. The one thought experiment I’m taking away is this: do you prefer fun or satisfaction?
With the first book, I read it in Bob’s voice and that elevated the experience. For the second, I listened to it in his voice. At first I preferred my imagination, but I came around to enjoying Bob and Sally’s vocal contributions to this fairly straightforward sequel. Paul Whitehouse didn’t quite hit the mark in his delivery. Not by my estimation, at least.
I don’t know that more of Gary Thorn is necessary. His character progression was wanting. Looking forward to Bob’s next story all the same.
I read a lot of Mark Twain as a kid. I loved his adventure stories and also that weird Tom & Huck adaptation my parents bought us on VHS.
Not weird was this book, which I tore through in two vacation days. Every bit as good as the source material with such an interesting expansion of character. I loved it.
The only thing that would have improved it is a map of James’ many ups and downs on the Mississippi.
I recently visited an exhibit on Kafka at the Morgan library in NYC. It was there I determined that I didn’t really care much for his work or most of its derivatives.
The hole falls in line with this tradition, finding absurdity in the mundane and leading the reader to question occurrences that have no answer. There are interesting themes involving losing one’s self to changing circumstances—hinted at frequently by the oft-referenced cicadas and extreme deviations to weather patterns.
The titular hole that drew me in, its unnamed inhabitant, and the mysteries of those living in our narrator’s rural neighborhood had no explanation. That left me wanting.
It seems to me that the trick to a successful novella is making up for time with personality. Murderbot’s quirks align closely enough to my own neurodivergences that I can look past this book’s shortcomings.
In many ways the first half of All Systems Red feels like a paraphrasing of a book. So much is glossed over or taken as read. Things start to click after everyone involved is on the same page. Even with just a few dozen pages left to go, I found myself tripping on awkward sentences that would have benefited from more words and different punctuation.
This was a funny read in such close proximity to Becky Chambers’ Monk + Robot duology. Brief reads about quirky robots trying to find ways to help humans while also prioritizing their own interests.
I think I can visualize how this show would play out enough that I’m not convinced I’ll watch it. At least not until I finish the next installment.
Wonderfully attractive character design led the purchase of a signed copy. A quick 15-minute read later and I'd completed the story, which left me wanting.
The art is lovely. Penciled, not inked, with lush and desaturated color tones. Again, character design comes out on top while the story lacks any real substance. The same (and only) turn happens exactly twice. All-in-all, The Council of Frogs feels like a fleshed out proof of concept. There’s room there for more!
I found some of this written with a heavy-hand. Particularly Vin’s insecurities, some of the romantic intrigue, and everything said by Zane. I also started picking up on some of Sanderson’s writing crutches—most notably during long stretches of political discussion and strategy.
The word “frowned” is used 147 times in this book.
Otherwise, another great read. I ripped through this one so fast! Storytelling from the point of view of more characters was a good choice. I felt closer to some of Kelsier’s crew as a result, allowing certain actions to hit harder than they would have otherwise
The final act felt too short for the journey leading up to it, but even in its brevity… *mwuah*. Stunning. What’s left beyond the epilogue is an air full of questions that has me anxious to continue.
A Prayer for the Crown-Shy takes everything that’s great about its predecessor and elevates it. Curiosity grows, relationships grow, and so does the world surrounding our monk and robot duo.
I was surprised to learn at the end that the first book was written pre-pandemic and that the second was written during its earliest stages. I would have sworn they were a reaction to it. Tonally it feels that way to me.
A superb duology. I’d recommend it to any open-minded someone looking for a quick, optimistic, and thought-provoking read.
Contains spoilers
I wasn’t immediately sold on Psalm for the Wild-Built but grew to really appreciate it for what it is—a thoughtful meditation on consciousness, purpose, and the meaning of things.
I can tell that Becky Chambers put a lot of thought into questioning the tropes that accompany most stories in settings like these. Resulting are scattered subversions of convention that give me pause to think deeper about the limitations science fiction applies to droids or how much reality we obscure in mundane things to make them more “welcoming” to a reader looking to escape.
And I suppose that’s what sets this book apart. As short as it is, it’s chock-full of reminders about life outside of it. It’s sweet, funny, and instructive. Moderately challenging to start but, once our protagonists meet, it’s a wildly engrossing read.
You know I love a good short story collection. Rarely do I find one as thought-provoking as this. So much to chew on in each of these thoroughly-considered pieces of speculative fiction.
Even the shortest stories prompted lengthy discussions at the table about predetermination. I’d recommend this to absolutely anyone.
I was concerned when starting Mistborn that I’d picked the wrong book to rekindle a habit I’d let go out years ago. I’ve long craved being thoroughly engrossed by a story of this depth, but committing to a 700 page fantasy after 10+ years of very sporadic reading felt more and more like folly as I progressed through part one. Then came part two.
Sanderson has come highly recommended for many years. Folks would always tell me that “the magic system is really original.” I’d look at them blankly without any idea of what that meant. It’s magic in a high fantasy novel. How original could it get? Quite, it would seem. I get it now.
I love stories supported by logic. I’m a big speculative fiction guy who is easily wooed by fantasy. Allomancy being constrained by real world physics is the stuff of genius. It’s hard to remember what metal or alloy does what some times, but that’s all semantic sugar on top of what really matters: power with limits.
Mistborn is an excellent book. Any reservations I had about Sanderson’s writing style melted away as my intrigue with his characters and story grew. I look forward to crawling deeper into the Cosmere.
Weylan Seppala is a small-town blacksmith who has no time for fate or destiny. Fortunately (or unfortunately), a mischievous wizard named Hornbeam comes along and upends his life. Weylan is roped into a quest to find the knowledge and material to forge a legendary blade before they are overtaken by the wicked Mother of Diseases.
After meeting a handful of new allies, he meets a young girl with a traumatic past who wields an immense and horrifying power. Though dangerous, she may be the only one who stands between victory and death. Can Weylan and Hornbeam help her escape her wicked family and defeat the Mother of Diseases before the world is overrun with darkness?
Weylan is not the one destined to wield the blade, so Hornbeam decides to recruit a drunken, regret-filled mercenary who long ago gave up a life lived in glorious combat. Though the warrior is hesitant to join the quest, his horse is more than willing to lead the charge.
Traveling through marshes, woodlands, and over the sea, Weylan meets many dangerous and mythical creatures, many of whom are able to torment the minds of mortals with terrifying visions that could drive them to madness. Weylan finds out quickly that fate has intervened in his life whether he accepts it or not.
In January of 2016, an author by the name of Ben Welch reached out for permission to use my 2012 essay on Fall Out Boy's album From Under The Cork Tree. I gave him the go-ahead and a quick interview about my small part in that portion of Patrick Stump's career.
Sometime between then and now, I completely forgot that this exchange ever happened. Today, while searching for an old "best of list" from 2012, I found a Google Books page highlighting a portion of Ben's book, cheekily titled Our Lawyer Made Us Change The Name of This Book So We Wouldn't Get Sued (aka Fall Out Boy: The Biography). It's all there, portions of my essay, portions of Patrick's response, and my thoughts on the event.
The discovery of this lost interview comes at an interesting time, as I've been sitting on a blog post for discography.fm about my small, but nevertheless existent role in the Fall Out Boy reunion. For 8 years, I thought my post and Patrick's letter was the end of it. I only learned last year that it was that very letter which prompted Pete Wentz to reach out, which, in turn, led to the first writing sessions between the two in several years.
From Rolling Stone:
Right around the time Stump posted the letter, Wentz reached out to him. “I was like, ‘Let’s write some songs or something,'” he says. “I was in a dark place and I needed a creative outlet. Patrick is such a nice guy that he wrote the songs with me, but I don’t think his heart was in them. They were kind of ‘meh.’ I’d equate it to some lost weekend thing that only one fan on the planet would care about. It was kind of a wash.”
Undeterred, they tried again not long afterwards. Eventually they came up with the song “Where Did the Party Go.”
“Pete got really excited, and that got me excited,” says Stump. “It gave us a ton of momentum. Then we decided it was time to call everybody else.”
I'm not under any delusion that Fall Out Boy reuniting was my doing, but it's hard to discount that it was a catalyst for the reunion happening when it did. It's still a very weird thing to me that a piece I wrote about my childhood became a part, however small, in the grander story one of pop's biggest acts. Being that it is such a large part of my own career in the field of music writing, I'm glad that my thoughts were published somewhere.
Originally posted at jacobtender.net.
I haven't read a lot of King's work, but I have read Dead Zone a number of times over the years. I don't know what about it sticks with me, but I like it a lot.
Because I've been in school, I don't have a lot of downtime for pleasure reads. What I do have is 10 hours of weekly commute. So I went for the audiobook. Unfortunately, the narrator is James Franco who sounds exactly like James Franco for the duration of the book.
Originally posted at jacobtender.net.