Seventh Son by Orson Scott Card

As the SF world collectively held its breath for the third Ender novel, Orson Scott Card switched gears and delivered the first volume of an alternate history/fantasy saga that would grow to be as nearly revered as Ender’s. Seventh Son has some of the most heartfelt and emotionally genuine writing of Card’s whole career. The first tale of Alvin Maker is both gentle and comforting, like a parent’s embrace, and foreboding. It’s a story of destiny set in a nation that, like the book’s protagonist, is in its childhood, born in strife, with all of its hard lessons and growing pains yet to come… There’s a texture to the setting that makes the struggles and hopes of all of Card’s characters real — at times, heart-wrenchingly so. In the end, for all its trading in the symbology of religious experience and Campbellian myth, Seventh Son is a humanistic story, revealing a deep love for humanity and its indomitable drive to overcome even the hardest struggles and persevere… Read the rest.

Aurian by Maggie Furey

Aurian is a highly entertaining story that, with a boundless sense of “sky’s the limit” confidence, unapologetically runs the gamut from heroic high adventure to bodice-ripper (which is, I’m told, a very pejorative term amongst the romance set, but hey). It’s a great guilty pleasure. Don’t think I’m belittling this book, people. Sure, it’s about as arch and melodramatic a novel as you’re likely to find without the Silhouette imprint on the cover. But Maggie Furey, in what was her debut novel, works it like a seasoned pro. Aurian is perhaps the ne plus ultra of the trend towards fantasy-romance crossover. I enjoyed myself immensely the whole time, in the way one only can when confronted with entertainment so shameless in its sentiment and energetic in its appeal to your limbic system that your only two choices are to set the thing on fire or give in. I said “the hell with it” and gave in. Furey is, after all, a good writer. And this is the kind of book that, poorly written, would be simply risible but, well written, is fine popcorn entertainment… Read the rest.

Ariel by Steven R. Boyett

It’s unusual for obscure mass market paperback originals from a quarter century ago to get a second life. But when the books in question are lost little gems that richly deserve such a life, it’s most welcome. And it ought to serve as a wake-up call to all of you: just how many hidden gems are on the racks right now that you haven’t noticed? More than you might think. Look deeper. Ariel was first released in 1983, when mass market originals were a much more common format for first-time publication than they are today. Back then, pricey hardcovers and trade paperbacks were largely rationed to established names dropping surefire bestsellers. To those lucky enough to discover it at the time, Ariel was a real prize, the kind of book that makes rummaging through the racks and taking a shot on something unfamiliar worthwhile… Read the rest.

Five-Twelfths of Heaven by Melissa Scott

The first volume of Melissa Scott‘s highly-regarded Roads of Heaven trilogy is an unusual SF novel in that it treats indistinguishable-from-magic science pretty much as if it were magic. It’s the sort of thing that makes scientific purists (and guys like me) roll our eyes much of the time. If I have a pet peeve, it’s when a “science” fiction story hits me with paranormal, unscientific concepts. If that’s what you want to write, then just write paranormal fiction. Scott avoids the claptrap trap, however, by defining her ground rules — precisely how these arcane concepts work within her milieu — early on in her story and then assiduously following them. The end result is an imaginative, compelling story for which even hard SF devotees shouldn’t have trouble suspending disbelief. Throw in a believable trio of protagonists, solid space opera action, and some surprising social relevance many years after its original publication, and you have a book, and a trilogy, worthy of rediscovery… Read the rest.

Silence in Solitude by Melissa Scott

Silence in Solitude smartly continues Melissa Scott’s Roads of Heaven (Silence Leigh) trilogy, keeping the storyline fresh and invigorating by taking readers down unexpected new paths… The first hundred pages of Silence in Solitude feel a bit tedious and weighed down, as Scott conveys the intricacies of her magecraft with eye-glazing detail. Happily, it picks up markedly once the rescue plot kicks in, becoming splendid space opera escapism… Most impressively, Scott understands how not to succumb to the temptation to pound the story’s sociopolitical themes into her readers’ heads with a sledgehammer… You leave Silence in Solitude eager for the final volume, which is exactly how series fiction should make you feel. This trilogy is one of the most worthwhile of its day, and one to track down. Read the rest.

Children of Amarid by David B. Coe

The fantasy debut of historian David B. Coe is a highly readable adventure with a freshness and appeal that too many modern fantasies lack. I found the tale enjoyable, unpretentious, avoiding obvious Tolkienisms, with characterization superior to most of what is being sold and touted these days as the best of the best. Yet it has what you could term some routine first-novel flaws. Its pace is too languid, its narrative not always well focused. And it’s loaded with predictable “surprises” that flatten suspense when it should be peaking… Children of Amarid shows Coe at the onset of his career, still developing his storytelling chops and obviously enjoying himself doing it. There are definite indications that the LonTobyn Chronicle series will get much more intriguing as it progresses, so those of you who live for thick epic fantasies bearing the Tor logo shouldn’t pass it by. Read the rest.

The Empress of Earth by Melissa Scott

I wish — oh, how I wish — I could say that Melissa Scott’s Silence Leigh trilogy ends on its highest possible note. While The Empress of Earth does at long last offer the long-awaited payoff of the journey to Earth, that payoff may disappoint some readers. Some tedious and labored writing and a surprisingly conventional approach to space opera kept me from appreciating the book as well as I did its two prequels, particularly the rousing Silence in Solitude. The appeal of Scott’s trio of lead characters is still solid, however. Readers who’ve made it this far will want to know Silence’s destiny. And it’s precisely that sort of character appeal that carries you over the novel’s lulls… I’m going to miss Silence Leigh and her friends, and if Scott should ever choose to revisit them and bring us up to date on their further adventures, I’ll be one of the first in line. Read the rest.

Dorsai! by Gordon R. Dickson

Dickson‘s Childe Cycle future history series is one of SF’s most venerable, and is considered to be the most influential body of work in the sub-genre of military SF… Yet this antique first novel in the cycle is a badly dated affair that, though readable, is hampered by an unlikable protagonist and some gender issues that are simply embarrassing in our more enlightened age. Some readers may yet enjoy it, even if it is a far cry from Dickson’s best… Dorsai! may well plant the seed of an SF legend, but it would be another decade, with novels like Soldier, Ask Not and Tactics of Mistake, before the Childe Cycle would shift into gear… Read the rest.

Night Child by Jes Battis

Let’s get the obvious stuff out of the way first. All of these paranormal investigator potboilers coming down the pike are more or less the same. It’s all a question of how well each one rearranges the furniture… Night Child for the most part races along indifferent to its unoriginality and determined simply to entertain you on a dark and stormy night. It’s pleasantly surprising how well Battis pulls it off — most of the way… despite their hackneyed qualities, Tess and the other characters do emerge from the page as convincing people. Sometimes, we like stock characters in our genre fiction because they’re relatable in certain ways… if any latter-day PI story deserves to avoid dismissal as a shallow cash-in, Night Child would be it. But for all that he has his heart in his world here, Battis the storyteller hasn’t yet gotten beyond Formula One. The plot could be that of any CSI episode, provided you slipped a few mages and demons into it. A little more thinking outside the proverbial box next time, and this series could have some real bite. Read the rest.

Elidor by Alan Garner

There are those who consider Alan Garner, an intriguing figure who was so sickly as a child he was twice legally declared dead, to be Great Britain’s master fantasist. I am not among them. Elidor, his best-known book, does have quite a lot to admire, even if it does fall far short of other acknowledged young-adult “plucky kids transported to a magical land” classics — to wit, C.S. Lewis‘s Narnia series and Susan Cooper‘s magnificent The Dark Is Rising sequence (let alone Oz). Elidor conveys a rich, eerie, dreamlike atmosphere in its best moments, rooted in Garner’s strong fidelity to locale and history. But these moments are dealt a severe blow as the overall story is much too thin and underdeveloped, and the climax is so abrupt you’ll leave the book feeling you were never really there… Read the rest.

If you start your week off with a horror novel, maybe you’ll feel like your life really isn’t so bad after all. There’s not much worse than being trapped on a ship full of vampires…

Carpathia by Matt Forbeck

So it’s April 1912, and here I am aboard R.M.S. Titanic, on her maiden voyage. By heaven, she’s a lovely ship! Big, too. But I’m a little worried we’re getting rather close to that iceberg. Oh I say, we’ve struck it! Not to worry, old man, everyone knows this ship is unsinkable. What’s that? We’re sinking anyway? Dash the luck! Off to the lifeboats then. What do you mean, there’s no more room? Blimey. Rest assured I’ll write a strongly worded letter to the White Star Line about this! Alas, I suppose there’s nothing for it but to dress in my evening best, order a brandy, and prepare to die like a sir. Could be worse, I suppose. At least we aren’t being attacked by vampires. What’s that? We are being attacked by vampires! Of all the bloody cheek!

You could read Matt Forbeck’s Carpathia a lot like this: as an extended sketch rather than a novel. Forbeck is a writer with a background in comics and games, and he writes books with a sensibility straight from the movies, which makes him easy reading for people who don’t usually read for entertainment.

Of all horror’s subgenres, I must confess I like vampire fiction the least. Writers of vampire fiction, it seems, limit themselves to one of two very basic story ideas: Lawful Good Battles Chaotic Evil, or Bad Romance. The former was the ball that Bram Stoker started rolling all these years ago, while the latter is what’s hot for a lot of audiences right now. While I suppose it’s good to see writers like Forbeck coming along in the post-Twilight era to save vampire fiction from emo sparkle-boys and reclaim it for the gorehounds among us, the fact remains that I draw a blank when it comes to examples of vampire fiction that offer anything in the way of satisfying, lasting storytelling depth. Vampire fiction has produced a lot of splatterific entertainment, but rarely any real literary achievement.

Well, so what. As long as the arterial spray is flowing freely, screw art, let’s dance… Read the rest. 

Navohar by Hilari Bell

You might have a hard time swallowing much of Navohar, the debut of Denver author Hilari Bell. But Bell produces easygoing, accessible writing that gives her book a degree of light-reading appeal. If only the whole affair weren’t so pat and predictable. Navohar is set towards the end of this century, after the people of Earth have thwarted an invasion by ruthless slave-trading aliens by knocking them out H.G. Wells-style with a horrid genetically-engineered virus. Tragically, this backfires, infecting human DNA as well and causing nearly an entire generation of kids to grow up with an incurably fatal genetic condition… Bell regrettably gives in to many first-timer’s typical poor choices… On the plus side, the story moves briskly and Bell’s writing is amiable. Sadly, Navohar ends up being one of those books that you like less and less the more you think about it… Read the rest.

Vellum by Hal Duncan

… Vellum is empty, pretentious twaddle. It’s another naked emperor for the cheering throng that mistakes obscurantism for brilliance. I cannot even call Duncan’s novel an exercise in style over substance, because that term implies a substance beneath the style. Duncan, having exhaustively researched ancient myths, is just playing around with them here without shining the light of understanding upon them — either as stories in and of themselves, or upon the role of myth as a necessary defining ingredient of civilization. Rather, Duncan settles for being impressed with his own book’s coolness, displayed with all the glossy superficiality of a Vertigo graphic novel… it’s easy to imagine there’s much more going on with this novel than meets the eye. But I found Vellum to be very much like its namesake, the parchment on which so many ancient manuscripts were carefully illuminated. Beautiful to look at — pick it up, and it crumbles. Read the rest.

GUEST REVIEW
The Fifth Sorceress by Robert Newcomb

This ambitious debut novel is set in a realm in which two kingdoms are divided by an impassable sea. Over 300 years prior to the story’s opening, a vicious war led to the exile of a coven of evil sorceresses whose lust for power would have led to the utter destruction of peaceful Eutracia had it not been for the intervention of the noble Directorate of Wizards. The book’s startlingly blunt sexual politics, in which the heroes are all male and the villains female, is only one of its dubious qualities. Robert Newcomb has delivered a first novel that, while competently written, ends up little more than an amalgam of fourth-hand ideas borrowed from better books… The fantasy genre, it appears, will continue on its blissful course of offering up overlong debut novels by mediocre writer after mediocre writer fancying themselves the heir to the throne. With crap like The Fifth Sorceress cluttering rackspace, is it any wonder readers get so impatient with George R.R. Martin? Read the rest.