Lilith Saintcrow

First of all, a couple messages: Thanks to Tami H. for the virtual chocolate–it made my day. And AJ: your WordPress.com username is totally separate from the username on your own hosted WP blog. Just go sign up for that (as Kerry notes, you don’t have to use the blog at all, I use mine as a placeholder, though I should probably find some way to mirror it…is there a plugin to crosspost to a WP-hosted blog?) ANYWAY, that will give you an API key you can use for Akismet and will make all sorts of stuff totally easier.

*cracks knuckles* We got your tech support right here, babe.

SO. Evil Ways is the second Chastain & Morris investigation, written by Justin Gustainis. Justin approached me for a quote for Black Magic Woman, the first Quincey Morris book, and I loved it. (I have also grown to adore Justin, but that’s beside the point.) I also loved Evil Ways. So, on to the review!

Evil Ways opens in Iraq, during the looting of a museum in Baghdad. A book is stolen, and right away the reader begins to suspect something is Very Very Wrong. The book contains a ritual, and a mad millionaire wants to use it to grant himself near-immortality and a cure to whatever Bad Disease he has. (My vote is cancer, but it’s not explicitly stated. Doesn’t matter, either.) The Mad Millionaire, Walter Grobius, has hired a sorcerer to help him–and the sorcerer knows his stuff.

Enter our good guys, Quincey Morris (yes, a descendant of one of Dracula’s hunters) and his pal Libby Chastain, a “white” witch.

This is one of the things I love about Justin’s work. The magic has rules, and Justin has done his research. He peppers the work with occult in-jokes–but never so many as to detract from the story. And I can tell he’s boned up (pardon the term) on Western occult theories and techniques. Not only that, but he’s thought long and hard about why the magic works the way it does in his world, and he sticks to it. I’ve read enough fantasy and urban fantasy by now to appreciate an author whose magical rules don’t change to service the plot.

There’s plenty more to appreciate about this book. For one thing, the heroes don’t know who they’re fighting for most of the book, and each group of heroes (Quincey and Libby, and Fenton and O’Connell the FBI agents, then Hannah Widmark, and the Sisterhood of white witches) has their own motivations as well as their own pieces of the puzzle. The interlocking pieces of the plot all come together in a cinematic showdown during a black-magic sabbat that was alternately hilarious and horrifying for all the right reasons. Plus, the villains have believable motivations as well–Pardee the sorcerer and Grobius the millionaire are perfectly prepared to do away with each other if and when they can, and both want this ritual done for different reasons. The villains aren’t cardboard, and I like that.

Gustainis is still a “young” writer, and there are some flaws in the book. One is a little too much exposition “tell” instead of characterization “show” at some points; especially when the academic tone rubs through. Don’t get me wrong–the academic tone works wonders when he’s starting out a chapter to set a scene. But when it comes to (in particular) Libby Chastain saying something prim instead of cursing and Quincey noticing it and realizing they’re in deep shit, the academic tone is a distraction. This is something practice and growth will solve, and Gustainis’s craft has noticeably improved between the first and second Morris & Chastain books. (He was no slouch to begin with, either.)

The ending also felt a bit abrupt, but that could have been because I was enjoying the book so much and didn’t want it to be over. There’s also a little bit of over-the-top when it comes to the bad guys–I mean, Pardee kills kittens, for Chrissake–but it works because that’s the way the world set up and it’s internally consistent, something many books that feature magic just aren’t. (Can you tell that’s a pet peeve over here at Casa Saintcrow?)

These are tiny little quibbles when compared to deft pacing, overall solid characterization (my favorite was Hannah Widmark[1], who as a secondary character stole the show and came close to taking over the whole damn book) and a number of fun pop-culture references and nods. I think I already mentioned Harry Dresden’s favorite bar and bartender showing up in this book, as well as references to a certain reporter and an awesome cameo by a guy named Frank.

These references may end up dating the book–for example, if you don’t have Netflix or don’t remember the original series, Frank is not going to be any big deal to you. HOWEVER (and this is a big however) these cameos are very adroitly handled and stand up as tertiary characterizations on their own merit, adding breadth and depth to the world Gustainis has created.

I really can’t wait for the next book in this series, and I enjoyed this one very much. Like I’ve said before, there are very few books that I am pulled into and stop “looking under the hood” of anymore, and I can rely on Justin to give me a rollicking good time without jolting me out of the story with bad craft. All in all, a thumb’s-up read, and I recommend Evil Ways for anyone who likes their occult fiction and urban fantasy smart, fun, fast, and occasionally brutal.

[1] And Hannah is so totally hot. She’s a girl after my own heart, especially her introductory scene, where she does a Lady Vengeance ALL OVER a nasty vampire. Here’s hoping Justin will give Hannah her own series…hint, hint…

Ah. The Chihuahua of Real Life just crawled up my ankle again. The Princess has reached one of those Life Milestones, and we celebrated by taking her to Target so she could pick out lip gloss and a big-girl purse. There were a couple other things she needed, too. Right now she is wearing her new hat, listening to her new Cheetah Girls (God help us) CD with her new earphones, and her new clothes, from unmentionables to a cute sweater-coat, are being washed.

She is as happy as a pig in a wallow. And I feel really good that I can make her this happy. It’s worth every moment spent banging on a keyboard.

Now, since I’m ultra-late, here are some Mini-Reviews! I’ve been promising these for weeks, haven’t I.

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Good morning, everyone. I have news: pump-driven espresso makers are a little louder than steam-driven ones. But they do make a lovely cup, with nice crema. And what happened to my old steam-driven one, you might ask?

Don’t ask. Please. Just let’s call it “the poor thing gave its all for years and finally, gave up the ghost.” While almost giving me a heart attack, I might add.

So. I did read Twilight recently, and lots of people have asked me for my opinion. I think I might best give it by giving this link–Smart Bitches Sarah, on Edward Cullen as a standard romance alpha hero. For what it’s worth, I completely agree. I feel profoundly conflicted about the alpha hero anyway, even when I write him.

Now, I did go and do a Breaking Dawn event recently for the release of the fourth book in the series, but that was because I was asked and I like doing release events (even if they’re not my book, kaff kaff). I was amazed at the energy of the mostly young and mostly female fans; but I held off reading the books because, you know, I’m writing YA too and I didn’t want to contaminate the well, so to speak.

It took Cleolinda’s blow-by-blow of Breaking Dawn (Part One of it is here) to convince me that perhaps, maybe, I should just read this and see what all the fuss is about, contamination or no. I picked up Twilight this last weekend and finished it in a couple days, in between laundry and writing and other stuff (like eating).

It was a hard slog.

Now, Meyer’s obviously onto something. Her fans are legion and very excited, and the Readers, of course, always know best. But I had a couple problems with the book, most of which spring from being an adult reading a YA book and others that spring from external influences.

Let’s take the external influences first. First, Stephanie Meyer is a Mormon*, and my feelings about that corporation are, shall we say, less than charitable. Don’t get me wrong–I would fight to the death for their right to lawfully follow the religion of their choice, and I feed all the Mormon kids who come to my door on mission. (That’s part of my own vows, thankyouverymuch.) But I had the bad fortune to read Orson Scott Card’s panegyric to Meyer (in Time magazine) right after I read his horrid little jerkwad anti-gay-marriage screed, and the two became uneasily conflated in my brain. Not to mention that I’ve been following Warren Jeffs and the other branches of the FLDS through the news for years now, and am sickened and disgusted both by the child abuse, murder, spousal abuse, and polygyny; AND by the mainstream LDS church’s refusal to both give some of its billions (raked in through tithes and things like Deseret) to help the victims of the FLDS OR to speak out loudly against the abuses perpetrated by their fanatical co-religionists. So, knowing that about the author did color my perception of the book, and I’ll admit that openly. Mea culpa; but I was willing to give it a chance.

However, (and here’s where we get to the nitty-gritty) this is not a book I’d ever recommend to my daughter.

We have a reach-and-read-it policy in our household. “If you can reach it, you can read it, and if you cannot reach it, get a stool!” I am not in the habit of censoring books for my children. If I find something objectionable, I discuss it with the child reading it. We talk about how I feel, how the kid feels about it, and the kid is free to read it as long as we’ve discussed it. That’s reasonable, and if my daughter finds Twilight on the shelf and wants to read, more power to her.

But you bet your sweet bippy I’m not going to recommend it, and if she find it and wants to read it we’re going to have a talk about how your life does NOT need to revolve around some boy. Especially some boy who stalks you, tries to control your life, and sucks blood/energy. (I find the bloodsucking to be a big metaphor, but we all knew that.)

That’s the crux of my problem with this book. Is Bella an appropriate role model for young women?

Now I know you might remark, “Would you even care if you didn’t know the author’s religious choice?” That’s a fair question, and I don’t know. I do know that the religious bent of the author, and the Mormon church’s dismal record when it comes to female rights or even emancipation (this is still a church that educates women only in order to make them better housewives, as a friend of mine so memorably remarked not too long ago), SQUICKS ME RIGHT OUT when added to Bella’s absolute inability to say no or even to enforce her own boundaries when it comes to Edward. And Edward’s violation of Bella’s boundaries added to his refusal to stop when she does tell him “no” because “he knows best”? Ugh. No thank you.

I have less of this problem when reading alpha-hero romance intended for an adult audience, and I can really see the attraction of Edward Cullen for teenage girls. It’s great to think that there is someone out there–someone handsome, brave, sparkly, “ethical”**, smart, rich, and fantastic in all senses of the word–who will find your klutziness engaging, who will be head over heels with just you as a person. Believe me, I’m thirty-two frocking years old and I still see the attraction.

But that does not mean I would ever give up pieces of myself and let someone trespass over my boundaries and take over my life ever again.

I say “ever again” because I’ve been there. I’ve been in abusive relationships and I’ve been stalked, and some (okay, most) of Edward’s behavior skeezes me out to the max. I know it’s supposed to be Romeo and Juliet-esque, and believe me I have my problems with that play too, nevermind that it was my favorite childhood Shakespeare I can still quote by the ream. (I like to think that my choice of Richard III now shows a certain maturity. Or maybe not. *snerk*) What really skeezes me is that Bella thinks Edward’s behavior is appropriate and downright fuzzy romantic, and the author placed her parents in the book as nonentities. The book could just as easily be titled “Edward Saves Bella From Absent Father And Flighty Mother, Ushering Her Into Teh Perfekt Nuklear Fam, In Which It Is Okay To Suck Blood Because Our Wimmins Are In Their Place And Everyone Is Sporty/Pretty And Camps A Lot.”

Which, when added to the image of a perfect family noised about by the Mormon church, just sends me into twitching spasms. The fact that I know where the series ends up–with a teen marriage and pregnancy, Bella not going to college because she “wants to be with Edward so much” etc., turns me RIGHT OFF.

This begs the question of whether or not I think some other aimed-at-teen-girl series are appropriate role models for young women. Like, say, Gossip Girls or even the American Girls series (on the younger end). I’m not speaking to those because the phenomena isn’t as huge and widespread. The Twilight thing is, to me, a perfect storm. I cannot separate the fame of the series from my feelings about the author or from my feelings about the book, and knowing that the series ends up with the protagonist getting hitched and knocked up instead of going to college because of a hormonal glow of first love just makes me cringe.

Edward’s behavior in book one–he even STAYS THE WHOLE NIGHT IN HER ROOM when her dad doesn’t know about it–and Meyer’s subtle comment on the parenting styles of Bella’s mum and dad just make me so uncomfortable. And opening up the book with a heavy-handed quote from Genesis about the Tree of Knowledge? Man, I was probably lost the moment I read that, to be absolutely honest.

I do know I’m not going to be buying/reading the rest of the series unless my daughter finds the first one on her own, reads it, and falls utterly in love. Then I’m going to have to, and I’m going to have to discuss them with my little girl. Which will be all flavors of fun for her, I’m sure. I can just see her now. “Mom, it’s a book. I know this isn’t real. It’s just fun to read. Sheesh!”

Which is probably the best reaction she could have.

I wish Ms. Meyer all the best–publishing being what it is, we will probably cross paths sometime in the future, and she seems like a cool person. She’s made a lot of Readers very happy, and that’s awesome. I respect the hell out of that, and will probably go see the Twilight movie when it comes out. I suspect I will be the median age in the audience, too, given the size of the adult Twilight fanbase. I’m even going to go so far as to say I read something way outside my comfort level, and I’m glad about that. Not only am I glad, but I’m happy to see the books being discussed and analyzed by people like the SBs. This just underscores the power of fiction to bring people to the table and give them a chance to talk about all sorts of things–gender roles, religion, equal rights, social expectations–without getting into a war over it.

Or at least, let’s hope. Bear me out here by being decent to each other in the comments section, okay?

* I am fully aware my own religious preferences, stated openly, have driven some Readers away too. That’s a chance one takes with being a public personality, and a choice I made when I sold my first books dealing with the material I deal with. ‘Nuff said.
** Much is made of the Cullens’ ethics, as in not hunting humans. When conflated with Edward’s controlling behavior toward Bella, the cognitive dissonance is jarring.

I haven’t done a book post for a while, have I?

Currently I’m reading a lot of Cormac McCarthy. I’ve finished off All The Pretty Horses (on the train from San Diego), No Country For Old Men (a while ago), Blood Meridian (which got me started on the McCarthy kick), and Child of God. I’m currently working on Outer Dark and The Orchard Keeper; planning on the next two in the Border Trilogy after a while.

I also finished Duras’s The Little Horses of Tarquinia on the train to San Diego, and an annotated Jane Eyre. I took a whack at Crime Scene Chemistry For The Armchair Sleuth, which is very well written and which I eventually gave to the Chemist, my middle sister. I was also working on a huge honking new history of Nazi Germany, mostly because of my interest in the Eastern Front of both world wars. Finished that and a couple other works on the Soviet army in WWII (thank you, DreamLabyrinth!) I’ve started on a secondary interest–the Winter War between Finland and the Soviet Union.

I don’t know what I’ll be attempting next, unless it’s finishing the next Kismet book. Which I’m rather successfully avoiding working on a sex scene for. *sigh* Ah, the life of a writer.

So, off I go. I’m listening to Zimmer and Howard’s soundtrack for The Dark Knight, which is atmospheric and creepy for the next Jill book.

I know what the problem is: I’ve been in those relationships where the edge of physical violence and sexual attraction is always there. It’s a fine edge, a cutting edge, and you need to be careful where you hold it. Putting it on paper is, well, thought-provoking. And dangerous.

So I’ve put it off long enough. A civil adieu to you, dear Reader.

So it’s Monday, and I’m thinking that I’ll need the next two days as a weekend from, well, my weekend. It was a busy one. And it made me stop and look back. Not like Lot’s wife–or maybe like her, viewing an orgy of destruction. She might have crumbled free of that salt, denying angry fathers and men their control.

But that’s another story. Let’s start with Linda Ronstadt. I’m a big fan since childhood, of her and Carly Simon.

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