Shards of Delirium

Category: Words

  • Amazing Tales: A Game for Children Who Love Adventures Revised Edition

    Fastest I’ve read a book in about forever, but also it’s short. Honestly, I was surprised by quite how fast I managed it all the same, since Amazing Tales is a role-playing game sourcebook. See, I had this idea to play D&D with the kids, and then Mary had the idea that maybe we start with something a little lower key and kid-focused, and this is what she found.

    And I have to say, it fits the bill. Honestly, it’s pretty clever. First, you pick a genre, which is to say The Deep Dark Woods (animal/fairy fantasy), Magical Kingdoms Long Ago (generic fantasy), The Pirate Seas (swashbuckling, but also probably fantasy) and Among the Stars (sci-fi, obvs). But also it would be pretty easy to take what you wanted from the former two settings and include them in the latter two settings. Or for that matter to make them space pirates.

    Then your kid makes a character, which is to say, something that fits the setting. Is it a pirate captain? A robo-dinosaur with jetpack legs? A fairy who is also a princess? Then they get four skills that they’re good at, like Being Brave, Doing Science, Marksmanship, etc, and one of them they’re best at, second best, third best, and last best, and each skill gets a descending die, from d12 to d6. Then, anytime they want to do something that seems hard, they pick a skill, say what they’re doing, and roll. 3 or higher succeeds! And you either tell them how they succeeded and what next, or how things got worse and now what will they do?

    It’s a kid game, obviously nothing irrevocably bad happens, but I suppose it could get hairy now and then, and mostly you’re trying to tell a story with them about how things went great. RPG 101, or so? I suppose someday soon I’ll find out how it goes.

  • Never Flinch

    Stephen King keeps writing murder mystery novels, possibly because he likes the genre but I think mostly because he likes his mystery solver character Holly Gibney. Never Flinch actually has two such mysteries. In the first one, there’s a serial killer who is targeting random people but naming them as proxies for the jury pool of a man who was innocent, but sent to jail and then murdered there. In the second one, one of those religious nuts that likes to blow up abortion clinics is hunting a lady who is going around the country encouraging people to vote for better state representatives to expand abortion access on a state by state basis.

    As I know I’ve said before, King with an axe to grind is simply not as good of an author as King with his imagination flowing freely. I agree with all of his politics, and I nevertheless continue to wish they would not infect his books. It’s just too… apparent. Takes me out of the narrative, it does. And in this case, it’s half the plot. So, y’know. There’s that.

    All the same, one of the things at which he excels is weaving disparate pieces of a narrative toward each other like three freight trains that seem to be on different tracks but it turns out they’re all headed for the same place, and if you think only two trains can crash into each other because of the way that train tracks work, well, that’s sort of my point, innit? So that’s the part of the story that was great. (And also, I share his enjoyment of his character.)

    The only remaining downside of this book is that, the pieces of the plot woven together, the crescendo reached… the weaving was great, you see, but the crescendo was… fine. It was fine. It was not great. All in all, it was a mid book, which still means I followed it breathlessly and wanted to know how it turned out the whole time, because you see it was a mid book on a Stephen King scale. And I do love me some King. Ask anyone.

    But I can also be honest with myself in the aftermath of that aforementioned trainwreck.

  • Shift

    Not especially long ago, I read Wool, in which Juliette Nichols finds, and then exceeds, her limits[1]. The second book of the trilogy, Shift, goes back to the very beginning to provide several hundred years’ worth of context about Juliette’s silo and everything that surrounds it.

    It’s hard to say anything more, due to massive spoilers. But I can think of a few things. First, the elephant in the room. I am on record for believing that the story I watched on TV and [mostly believing, at least] that I read in that first book did not require a specific apocalyptic backstory. It was enough to know that an apocalypse had occurred, and all that was necessary was to look forward. Having read the second book, with precisely the apocalyptic backstory under discussion… I 95% stand by my original assessment. I firmly believe a good, compelling story could have been told with nothing more than a handwaved “and then we nuked each other”, for example.

    However, I would be remiss if I did not say that the apocalyptic backstory that has been provided is pretty damn compelling itself. Yes, there’s a little too much love triangle subplot that I’m not wholly sure added anything emotionally, and could structurally have been solved via different means, but that’s not really the point. The point is, necessary or not, the story of how Juliette found herself, wool in pocket, at the precipice of a much wider world than she could have imagined and yet so much narrower than the reader might have? It’s a good story, and I’m glad to know it.

    [1] In most of the potential ways that could be taken.

     

  • Wool

    There’s this show on Apple+[1] called Silo. The year it came out (2023 maybe?), I called it the best sci-fi on TV, and I stand by that assessment. A long time later, albeit by my standards pretty rapidly, I’ve picked up and read the first book in that trilogy (which covers the first two seasons of the show).

    Wool tells the story of a, well, a silo. It is underground, some 140 or so levels into the earth as measured from the up top, through the mids, and into the down deep. It contains a large but necessarily limited number of people. They all have jobs (porters who run things up and down the silo, mechanical who keeps the generator running, farmers, doctors, a sheriff, IT, even a mayor), and eventually everyone in every job has a shadow, learning to do that job from the previous generation. It is a perfect closed system, and nobody ever leaves.

    Well, that isn’t quite true. There’s an exit, right next to the jail cells in the sheriff’s office on the top level. The exit leads up a ways to the surface, where there’s a door to outside, and cameras in all directions surround the door. Those cameras show an utterly destroyed landscape in greys and browns, with constant windblown particles, constant rushing clouds in what might otherwise be called a sky, a decayed city full of what are no longer skyscrapers in any useful sense off in the distance, but with a ridge that prevents view of anything nearby. The silo is in a depression, is what I mean. The view from these cameras is shown in the nearby top-level cafeteria, a warning of what leaving the silo would mean. And yet, if anyone asks to leave, they are not only allowed to do so, but by law must. The only caveat is that they are asked to clean the cameras when they go out, since the view is forever being worsened by the blowing dust. For this, they are given a square of wool. Anyone who goes out does clean, even those who swear they will not, and anyone who goes out dies within minutes, soon enough to become a part of that pre-ridge landscape, a warning that it is not yet and may never be safe to go out.

    I’ve already said rather a lot, so I’ll stop here. Either that description grabs you and makes you want to know where a story would go in this setting, or it does not. But I have a few pieces of additional commentary relative to the show. The main one is, for better or worse, the voice of Juliette and the voice of Deputy Marnes are just irrevocably overwritten into the voice of their characters in the book. I think probably for better, in both cases. The second is that most of the changes made for the show were probably improvements, even if they stretched out the story a bit. (Plus, some of them might turn out to be due to retcons for future books I’ve yet to read.)

    Lastly… well, this one is complicated. I must say first of all that Wool is a complete story in itself. If nothing else had been written, I would be completely satisfied by its ending. That said, in discussions online about the TV show, I was lambasted for not really caring what was the source of the disaster that led to these people being trapped in this silo. Like zombies in that flavor of apocalypse, the blasted landscape is setting. Who cares why there are zombies? There just are, the story is influenced by the setting, the setting is not a part of the story. And honestly, I stand by that assessment. This book being a complete story in itself just proves to me that I was right.

    However.

    I will say that the book managed something the TV show did not, which is to make me interested in finding out how we got here after all. Cleverly, therefore, book two is all about that, and I suppose I’ll read it pretty soon.

    [1] the streaming service whose name I may or may not have correct

  • Blind Rage

    Since October, I have been buying cheap (or often free) Kindle books. Like, 99c for seven books kind of thing. I’ve spent maybe $30, and increased my digital library by hundreds of titles. Are most of them garbage? Okay, probably. But it gives me something to read when I don’t have anything but my phone handy.

    The first of these books that I’ve actually read is Blind Rage, the first volume of an eight book series called Under the Breaking Sky. It steals heavily from Cell, and is otherwise about what you’d expect out of a not quite zombified airport thriller. Set in Denmark and with maybe five or so main characters, it tells the story of the day a weird hole appeared in the sky that causes anyone who looks at it to go blind and enraged, such that they hunt down anyone they can hear, to rip them apart or bash them to pieces. (But not each other.) Then the thing in the sky goes away, until it comes back again 12 hours later. And again. And again.

    So, I lied earlier though. A small percentage of the population is unaffected. Most of the main characters are this type, and the book (and probably the series) is entirely about them trying to stay alive, and maybe eventually trying to figure out how this is even happening? Beats me, and I’m not holding my breath. It’s an apocalypse, I’m just along for the ride.

  • The Curator

    A book has been sitting on my nightstand instead of my to-read shelf, for somewhere between one and a half to two years. Long enough that the top part of the pages are yellowed from the sunlight through the window behind my nightstand. I got it from someone for my birthday or Christmas, and I honestly don’t know who or why. Did I put it on a wishlist? I cannot rule this out, but I don’t know why I would have. And yet I cannot think of another reason it would have appeared, and nobody has asked me about it in the meantime.

    But appear, it did.

    The Curator, by Owen King[1], tells the story of a fictionalized probably European, probably 19th Century independent city[2] in the throes of revolution. See, the rich but liberal students at the University, after an inciting event, have taken it into their heads to free the extremely poor people in “the Lees” from their oppressors among the nobility, and the attempt is astonishingly successful, except… now what?

    In the midst of these happenings, a maid lately employed by the university named Dora finds an opportunity to look into her older brother’s mysterious final moments, from when he died during her childhood, by becoming the owner of the newly vacated Society for Psykical Research, in which he had spent some time before that death and the complete failure of her family’s fortunes. Alas for her plans, it has burned completely to the ground, one odd doorframe in the middle notwithstanding, and so she becomes the Curator of the National Museum of the Worker next door, instead.

    The remainder of the book, in a meandering style that the jacket copy accurately yet somehow non-pejoratively calls Dickensian, explores her new museum, and a city and its inhabitants in rudderless transition, and the mostly poor folk religion surrounding the many, many cats in the city, and the strange disappearances that are beginning to mount up, and the Morgue Ship that used to reside in the harbor as a penny dreadful curiosity until it got swept up in the inciting event I mentioned earlier, whereupon it disappeared, except rumor has it all those disappeared people are being abducted onto the ship as a part of their disappearance. Which is ridiculous, of course.

    By way of recommendation, I must say that it’s been a while since I’ve been so invested in the fate of a new-to-me character, and almost all of the characters had something endearing to offer. I’m somewhat surprised I haven’t seen more noise around this one.

    [1] of the Maine Kings. You might know him from his collaboration on Sleeping Beauties.
    [2] Or I suppose it’s the capital of a fictionalized country? On the one hand, it never seems like more than a city and surrounding estates, but on the other, it has a king. Those kinds of details hover in the no-man’s land between sparse and irrelevant.

  • Dragon Haven

    Longer ago than I’m happy about[1], I read the first Rain Wilds book, continuing Robin Hobb’s Elderlings Fantasy Universe. At the time, I thought it served mostly as a book-long prelude and character introduction for a forthcoming trilogy, plus maybe the first two chapters of the actual first book. On the one hand, I sort of stand by that. On the other, having read this book, I could easily consider it the concluding chapter of a duology instead.

    At the beginning of the book, the dragon keepers[2] are on the move up an acidic river, learning to care for their dragons, hunt for them, and otherwise keep them alive and in good spirits and on the trail of fabled Kelsingra, where everything will finally be okay, both for the dragons and their keepers alike, not to mention for most of the other characters tagging along for the trip.

    So I will say I definitely didn’t know particulars. Will all of the characters survive? Will they maintain their relationships and friendships? Will the dragons turn on them? Will the acid get stronger the further you go upriver, and eventually melt the flesh from everyone’s bones? Those answers would be spoilers. As, perhaps, is the certain conclusion that by the end of the book they will reach their destination[3]. But that one is on the author, not on me. After all, I didn’t write a second book in a four book series and name it Dragon Haven.

    You know, though. It occurs to me, what with everything being tied up in a neat bow by the end of the book, and yet there are two books left? This is still Robin Hobb. I, uh, I have some real concerns for what might go wrong between where things stand now and wherever they will go next.

    [1] This is an indictment of my speed more than of my alternative choices
    [2] It is of note to me that the first book is named Dragon Keeper, singular. Are we talking solely about Thymara? She’s the only viewpoint character who is an official keeper of dragons, throughout that book. Or is it just that the other books are all going to be singular as well, so it had to match? (Or is Sintara a dragon, keeping her human? I guess that’s also possible.)
    [3] Will it be the same destination they set out for, though?

  • The Mystery of the Whispering Mummy

    I’m gonna read some books to the boy that aren’t these, for the next little while.

    That said, yes, I still like the Three Investigators, while recognizing that the first one was quite a bit better than the next couple have been. The good news is, that doesn’t mean The Mystery of the Whispering Mummy was bad.

    You can really tell it’s a different time: the mystery hinges around a mummy found 25 years earlier, which the professor who found him is considered the owner of(!), and he’s been graciously loaning the mummy to a local museum in Cairo. But when he decided to bring the mummy home to southern California for further study, that’s just a thing he can do, since he found it in a tomb back in the day. Like, there are modern rewritten editions of these books and how I wonder did they rewrite the central premise of the story to explain away that this is not the way archaeology works anymore?

    Nevertheless, that premise settled, the story itself is pretty good, what with a plausible curse, a mummy who seems to be talking (but only to one man), villains who are sufficiently threatening, scary car chases, and also Anubis, because how are you supposed to mention ancient Egypt and just leave out Anubis?

  • The Mystery of the Stuttering Parrot revisited

    Anyway, the boy really likes the Three Investigators. The Mystery of the Stuttering Parrot is about how the teens with the junkyard secret base set out to find a missing parrot who only quotes Hamlet, but with a stutter[1], and end up embroiled in the sinister world of European art theft.

    So, this book was written in the mid ’60s, and is very clearly of its time in some ways. The last book had some pretty glaring stereotypes, even if they were perpetrated by notional bad guys, and the next book, which I’m already reading, just casually indicated that rich women get involved in charities because they do not have enough housework to keep them busy, which, wow. Some things I’ve lightly edited on the fly as I read, others, I’m not sure where to begin.

    All of that to say, this particular book has a Mexican boy named Carlos, and his uncle, usually a flower peddler but most recently a parrot peddler. They are poor immigrants, but it was honestly astounding to see them written so positively given the publication date. Nobody thought any ill of them just for being on this side of the border, and in fact at one point plans are made for the uncle to go home to Mexico to convalesce after an illness, and then probably just come back and resume his flower business, just as though we have more or less open borders and share freely with our neighbors.

    It’s hard to remember, and I mean this in both the knowledge gap sense and the emotional gut punch sense, that some things about the past are better than we’d expect today and in fact maybe even better than they are, today.

    Anyway, that Rolls Royce is still pretty cool. Also, like with all such series, I’m really loving the strong continuity. They’re kid books, yes, but they’re certainly better than the modern chapter books I’ve been reading to him[2]. Hooray!

    [1] “To to to be, or not to to to be. That is the question.” Honestly, the payoff on that line was pretty good and has stuck with me all this time, even if almost none of the rest of the book had.
    [2] I’m not not reading them to the girl, but she is not nearly as patient to sit and be read to as he was at the same age, and certainly she’s not taking much in right now, as pertains to the plot and its twists and turns.

  • You Like It Darker: Stories

    In and around comics, as usual, I’ve been reading a short story collection, which is I suppose rather less usual. Honestly[1], it happens within a rounding error of once per published Stephen King short story collection. Which, in this case, was You Like It Darker.

    The belle of the ball was the novella length story about the guy who dreamed of where a dead body was located, found it, and then (to his lasting regret) reported it. Several of the others washed right over me and have since receded, while there was only one miss, the one about the weird kid who has an unhealthy relationship with his dying grandfather.

    Most of the rest[2] are King writing his way through aging and death. (Well, death via aging, I mean. Obviously he’s never had a problem writing about death. Really, now.) But where he used to write about young and then middle-aged protagonists, he is now clearly reaching a stage where his focus is a bit further down the road. Which is both meaningful to me, since I’m at an age where the people a generation above me are all long retired, and have started to die, but also distressing, since I’m not ready for a world without next year’s King novel.[3]

    All the same, that year is coming.

    [1] At least, counting after college
    [2] Rattlesnakes, The Answer Man, Laurie, and to be fair Willie the Weirdo qualifies here as well. As do some of the ones that washed over me and already receded.
    [3] This is not not a metaphor for the many other things that I’m not ready to happen. But it’s definitely not just a metaphor for that, either.