Jacob Tender
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 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.
I can’t say this held my interest for long after the turn. Sociopathic anti-heroes don’t tickle me like they did when I was younger.
Still, I admire the boldness of the text and its brevity.
My first published work exists in the form of a 12 line poem I wrote in 6th grade (p. 126).
There’s a lot more room to breathe in New Mexico, it would seem. Big step up from the first book of SIKTC. I understand now how Tynion was able to splinter off into a companion series. The world of St. George’s is vast and full of traumatized characters worth meeting.
When I was in the first grade, I read both Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone and The Chamber Of Secrets. By the time I reached the third grade, I had mastered the existing four books multiple times.[1]
This pattern continued until the series came to a devastating end in 2007. I would read through the books that had been released thus far in constant anticipation of the next one. J. K. Rowling was good like that. She penned seven books that left me wanting more every time I closed the back cover. The audiobooks did that for me too. Since I didn’t have to do the reading myself, Jim Dale’s performance of the Harry Potter series opened my mind to further exploration of the world Rowling created. To this day, no book series has quite captured my attention like that of Harry Potter and I expect none ever will; Harry’s is a wonderful and nearly perfect story that I enjoy still—frequently.
I’ll admit. My anticipation for Harry Potter and the Cursed Child wasn’t nearly as exaggerated as the books that preceded it. I love it when a good thing ends. When it does, it remains good. At least, history is more kind to an aging franchise than one with an unsolicited sequel—which I find this particular play to be. To be fair, the “8th book” in the Harry Potter series is a published Jack Thorne script used by the West End production of a play of the same name. That play debuted the day before the script’s release and I’ve yet to see it. Obviously, I’d love to. I tend to appreciate Harry Potter stories in all mediums. [2] Until then, however, I could hardly wait to dig into this new story—wary, I may be.
The play reads like a play. Not simply in the structure of the script or that dialogue and scene are expressed in their own lines, but that the dialogue itself is very much written to be spoken aloud. For those like me that read fiction visually—conjuring images in their mind about what is happening as they read—they too may find it difficult to place this one in their mind’s theater. I found it more enjoyable to place it on its own stage, with its own cast of stage actors playing their parts.
The story is short; just 308 pages. That’s less than books three through seven. If you took a word count, I’d reckon it’s significantly lower than books one and two as well. Overall, it’s an easy read which most could probably finish in one or perhaps two short evening sittings. The brevity may make for an enjoyable night in the theater, but left me wanting in the comfort of my bed. The want would make for a positive feeling two days removed from finishing it if it were that I wanted more like all of Rowling’s books before it. The issue with this one is that I wanted less.
In its essence, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child is a next generation tale which follows Harry’s middle child, Albus Severus Potter. Although the setting of the first scene is nearly beat-for-beat the same as the epilogue of the last in book seven, it’s made clear from the start that Albus is going to have a rough road ahead. He’s likable to small degree, but only through pity. His story is perhaps relatable to many, but to me it seems that his apparent differences from his famed father would drive every action from start to finish. To be clearer, Albus’ obvious dissimilarity to Harry in terms of skill and popularity are allowed to take control of every aspect of his life. In this, he makes friends with the only boy on the Hogwarts Express that could possibly sympathize with being cast, Scorpius Malfoy—son of Draco Malfoy.
Scorpius had a fairly interesting, if not comic book twist of a story. By the books, his parentage follows the Malfoy line of pure blood. His mother, Astoria Malfoy (née Greengrass) is ill from the start and passes within a number of pages. This is less a motivator for the boy than it is the husband. Draco has been working hard to “make good” since the Battle of Hogwarts, but fate continues to push him down the path of tragedy. Once she’s gone, all that remains the remains of his family wealth and his son—a boy the wizarding world rumors is actually the son of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, Lord Voldemort himself.
As the years roll on, the relationship between Harry and his son are strained. We hear almost nothing about his other children, nor of Teddy Lupin. In fact, apart from passing mentions of Professor Neville Longbottom and a few brief appearances by Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore, there are few of the original Harry Potter cast to catch up to.[3] Naturally Ron, Hermione, Draco, and Ginny play their parts, but that nearly the whole of the reunion party.
As Albus and Scorpius take off on their misguided adventure through time to save Cedric Diggory, events are altered in ways that completely change the reality of the present we’re first introduced to. I think perhaps this would be interesting if the world had been drawn out over the course of several lengthy chapters. Had more characters been explored and the state of the wizarding world in the aftermath of Voldemort’s near-rise to power explained, the changes made in the boys’ efforts to “save the spare” would have been more compelling. Alas, the nineteen years since Dumbledore’s Army saved the day have apparently delivered little to be accounted for and due to that lack of detail, the resulting changes in the course of their lives in each level of their meddling are just as interesting—if not more so.
Millions of copies will fly off Barnes & Noble bookshelves this year as Harry Potter fans the world over hand fists of cash to find out “what happens next.” What they’ll get is less than riveting and adds so little to the wonder of the world Rowling built that I can’t help but feel disappointed. I think there are lessons to be taken from the seven books that make up Harry’s primary story. Lessons in life, loss, and love primarily. The Cursed Child has bits and pieces of all three, but one clear statement resounds most loudly: be good to your dad. And hey, that’s fine. Dads deserve a son’s love and sons too deserve loving dads. The way the script reads is sweet and has emotional moments, even some fun and lighthearted ones that briefly reveal the magic of J. K. Rowling’s fantasy world. Beyond those small glimpses of nostalgic bliss, sadly, this story lacks depth and ends with a twist that seems more Hollywood sequel than thoughtful addition.
I so wanted to return to Hogwarts and learn more about Harry’s kids. I wanted to feel invested in their adventures within the castle walls as I did with their parents. Sadly, I just don’t think it is possible. To replicate the feeling a reader has means more than familiar locations and references to prior work. The story of Harry Potter was magical because it had seven books to breathe. 3,407 pages full of adventures, mishaps, and incantations. Perhaps this story will find such air on stage. The show’s first preview had a run time of two hours and forty-five minutes. In that time I expect the characters could sell the story with personality that reads better in person than a book. I hope so. I think the story is fine, albeit contrived, and will be better received in person.
I can’t recommend Harry Potter and the Cursed Child, but I understand it. I can even tolerate it. What I can’t do is add an 8th book to my occasional Harry Potter marathon.[4] As readers and consumers of media we have the privilege of maintaining levels of personal head canon—what we perceive as true events where holes in the story exist. Having read this, aspects of my own have been altered forever. As a purist, I have to respect what was published as fact. That doesn’t mean, however, that I’m committed to and anticipate more of this particular branch of the tale. Both The Cursed Child and my love for the series can live in tandem. They will sit on the shelf side-by-side, but they are not equal in the way that many sequels are not. They are simply there.
1: Yes, I read at a 6th grade reading level in my first years of primary school. Thanks very much to my parents and some old stuffy copies of Tolkien’s works I inherited early on.
2: Save for Stephen Fry’s taped readings of the books. Though I love most everything about the man, those are rubbish.
3: The Hogwarts Express trolley witch was given more background than anyone else we’ve previously heard of.
4: This should be easy enough, considering they are not doing an audiobook for this one. That’s how I prefer to reabsorb the books anyway.
Originally posted at jacobtender.net.
I think the diminishing page counts hurts this story a bit. The world and mystery that’s built up in the first and second volume is good, but the runout is too fast. I finished book 3 unsatisfied.
Certainly a strong follow-up to volume one. Heavy-focus on discovery and backstory. Things are coming to a head.
I had a feeling from the cover that there would be a True Detective, season 1 vibe to this. I wasn't too far off.
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.
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.