Little Fuzzy
By H. Beam Piper; read by Jim Roberts
Audible Download – 6 hours 45 mins [UNABRIDGED]
Publisher: Jincin Recordings
Published: 2010
Print: Paperback, General Books,112 pp., 2010

Events in Little Fuzzy take place on the planet Zarathustra. The Chartered Zarathustra Corporation owns the world in all but name, and harvests its resources for trade on the intergalactic market. The world itself is poorly realized. Apart from anti-gravitational devices, hovering cars, and super-advanced CCTV lie detectors, very little in the novel suggests a science fiction setting. Guns, paper, and cigarettes predominate. The novel hints at a rich and storied history of the galaxy with its mentions of the Atomic Era, but these allusions never find ample explanation. The novel does take place in Piper’s Terro-Human Future Universe, however, so readers eager to learn more can probably do so in other novels and short stories.

The major exception to the book’s lack of world-building is the wild flora and fauna on Zarathustra around which Little Fuzzy ultimately hinges. Prospector Jack Holloway finds one of the titular foot-high golden-furred creatures, and soon realizes that the fuzzy fuzzy Holloway Zarathustra (yes, that is its official classification) exhibits behavior that may point to sapient consciousness. One of the fuzzies soon meets its demise at the hands of a Zarathustra Corporation agent, and Jack Holloway kills another agent in the ensuing scuffle. The rest of the novel explores the question of consciousness through the narrative framework of a criminal trial. Like the works of Isaac Asimov, Little Fuzzy abounds with cerebral dialogue that, at times, reads like a philosophical proof, but never drones on long enough to become monotonous.

The real show-stopper is Jack Holloway’s emotional connection to his newly-discovered species. At various points he fulfills the roles of teacher, champion, and father to the beleaguered little fuzzies. Thiis emotional power pulls the reader by the heartstring’s through the book’s one or two bare spots.

Little Fuzzy is also a brilliantly-written novel. Some of the fathers of science fiction appear to take themselves far too seriously, but this certainly can’t be said of H. Beam Piper. While the novel hardly qualifies as a comedy or satire, colorful splashes of humor indicate that, though the book addresses intriguing intellectual issues, at the end of the day Piper is having fun as a writer and a storyteller.

Jim Roberts’s performance of Little Fuzzy for Jincin Recordings won’t win any awards, but his tone fits the mood and content of the novel.

Originally published in 1962, just two years before H. Beam Piper’s suicide, Little Fuzzy was written at the zenith of his writing career, and it shows. As a proof-of-concept novel about the nature of consciousness, the book could have easily crossed the line between fiction novel, as do some of the other science fiction novels of Piper’s era. Sprightly writing and emotion that almost, but not quite, verges on sentimentality make Little Fuzzy a stand-out novel of its time, and indeed for all ages.

As a footnote, John Scalzi recently announced that he’s written a reboot of the series with the blessing of the Piper estate, dubbed Fuzzy Nation, and that he’s currently shopping it around to publishers. The franchise is certainly in capable hands.

The Red Tree
By Caitlin R. Kiernan; Read by Eileen Stevens, Katherine Kellgren, and Christian Rummel
Audible Download – 10 hours 24 mins [UNABRIDGED]
Publisher: Audible Frontiers
Published: 27 April 2010
Print: Trade Paperback, Roc, 400 pp., 2009

The Red Tree purports to be the diary, published posthumously, of novelist Sarah Crowe, a Southern transplant who spends her final months in a storied farmhouse in rural Rhode Island. As such, the novel opens with an introductory note from Sarah’s editor, establishing a frame narrative that carries through the entire novel to good effect. The novel reveals Sarah Crowe’s eventual suicide away at the outset; the incentive to read the novel thus becomes the discovery of what drives this talented but flawed author to bring about her own demise.

Not long after moving into the old farmhouse for the summer, Sarah begins to notice strange occurrences in the area, mostly centering around the gigantic red oak visible from her kitchen window. Along with another lodger, Constance, who moves in shortly thereafter, Sarah begins to investigate and explore the strange events surrounding the house’s history. Many tropes from the “haunted house” genre make an appearance, including spooky basements, revelatory manuscripts, and shifting landscapes. As one would expect, the intensity of these hauntings ratchets up as the book progresses, but they never quite reach a climax suitable for a true horror novel.

Sarah’s past plays an integral part in the novel, since she spends much of the novel processing the grief from the suicide of her lover Amanda. She frequently reverts to flashbacks of the high, or low, points in her relationship with the spunky graphic designer. In the present, Sarah also suffers from fits of epilepsy, and quite possibly other ailments, both physical and mental. The construction and development of the complex and very human Sarah Crowe is possibly Caitlin R. Kiernan’s crowning achievement in The Red Tree.

Sarah’s host of problems, both real and imagined, qualifies her as an unreliable narrator, leading the reader to question the veracity of events, large and small, that she reports in the diary of her last days. In this respect, The Red Tree begins to show its seams. We are at once presented with too much information, and yet not quite enough information, to arrive at a satisfying answer. That, of course, may be the whole point. But in either case, the book’s abrupt ending lacks the power, both as a character piece and as a horror novel, to encourage further investigation.

Caitlin R. Kiernan’s unique voice and strong writing style are perhaps the saving graces of The Red Tree. Sarah Crowe’s autobiographical writing pops with Southern witicisms and yet can lapse into brooding introspection at the drop of a hat. The atmosphere of Sarah’s summer home also pervades the story with its still, eerie, omnipresence, with the eponymous red tree always looming ominously in the background. The frame portions of the book–the notes from the editor and excerpts from the discovered manuscript–also fit both mood and character.

A journalistic novel lends itself easily to an audio treatment, and Audible Frontiers has crafted another fine production here. The bulk of the novel, Sarah Crowe’s own diary entries, are read by Katherine Kellgren, who performed a stellar rendition of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. Kellgren captures perfectly the persona of a well-spoken Southern belle who is nonetheless fragile and full of rough edges. Going beyond the call of duty, Audible Frontiers also found great narrators to read the notes from Sarah’s editor and the excerpts from the manuscript which Sarah discovers in the house’s cavernous basement.

Despite its ambitions, a Stephen King novel The Red Tree certainly isn’t. The horror elements aren’t quite powerful enough to carry the book, and the characterization, though excellent, doesn’t quite come to term. For readers, like me, who enjoy good writing for its own sake, though, you can’t go wrong with losing yourself in Caitlin R. Kiernan’s words for a weekend. I’m looking forward to reading her next work.

The Improbable Adventures of Sherlock Holmes
Edited by John Joseph Adams; Read by Simon Vance and Anne Flosnik, John Joseph Adams (uncredited)
18 CDs – 22 hours [UNABRIDGED]
Publisher: Brilliance Audio
Published: 2010
Themes: / mystery / alternate history / science fiction / horror / Victorian / London

The stories in this collection fall into one of three categories. First, there are the traditional mysteries. These are stories that, with but slight alteration, might easily have found a home among Conan Doyle’s own work. The best of these tales expand upon characters or cases mentioned in the original œuvre only in passing. “Mrs. Hudson’s Case” by Laurie R. King, for instance, features Holmes’s protégé Mary Russell as its protagonist and reveals the character of Holmes’s long-suffering landlady. Edward D. Hoch’s “A Scandal in Montreal”, meanwhile, reunites Sherlock Holmes with his sometime nemesis Irene Adler. As a whole, however, this category fits rather uneasily into the collection because, by and large, there is little in the way of “the improbable” in any of these stories. All are well-written and most are engaging; they simply miss the point.

The second category I would call historical, or pseudo-historical. In most respect these stories are similar to those of the first category, with one redeeming addition: Sherlock Holmes crosses paths with historical figures from the Victorian era. Stephen Baxter’s “The Adventure of the Inertial Adventure” sees our detective join forces with author of scientific romances H. G. Wells, while Tony Pi’s “Dynamics of a Hanging” brings mathematician Charles Dodgson (better known as Lewis Carroll) into the Holmsian world. The highlight of this grouping, though, is “The Adventure of the Field Theorem” by Vonda N. McIntyre, in which Sherlock Holmes investigates crop circles at the behest of none other than Arthur Conan Doyle.

The last category throws Sherlock Holmes–and let’s not forget Doctor Watson, through whose eyes we see most of these tales unfold–into genres as wide-ranging as alternate history, horror, and science fiction. Subjectively, I liked these stories best because they fall into genres which I most commonly read. Objectively, these stories succeed because they deliver on the promise of “improbable adventures.” The collection opens with a chilling tale by horror master Tim Lebbon, which unlike most Holmes stories is never intellectually resolved. “The Singular Habits of Wasps” by Geoffrey A. Landis, perhaps my favorite story in the collection, puts a fascinating otherworldly spin on the mysterious murders of Jack the Ripper. Robert J. Sawyer’s closing story, “You See But You Do Not Observe”, pits Holmes’s intellect against the fermi paradox concerning extraterrestrial life. The collection is worth the price of admission for these entries alone.

Simon Vance carries the bulk of the narration, with Anne Flosnik reading only a few stories featuring female protagonists. Flosnik performs solidly in her few appearances. Simon Vance’s portrayal of Holmes and Watson is spot-on; the former speaks with a whip-sharp voice, while the latter lumbers along in a more lugubrious manner. He falls short only when narrating the few “New World” characters who figure in the stories, but these cases are uncommon and Vance’s accent isn’t off by much. John Joseph Adams himself narrates the collection’s introduction, as well as introductory passages to each story.

Whether you’re a fan of mystery, history, or something further afield, chances are high you’ll find something to sate your appetite in The Improbable Adventures of Sherlock Holmes. I’ll venture out on a limb and say that visitors to this site will likely be most interested in the tales of speculative fiction. I assure you, in particular, that you’ll not be disappointed.

The Magicians
By Lev Grossman; Read by Mark Bramhall
Audible Download – 17 hours 24 mins [UNABRIDGED]
Publisher: Penguin Audiobooks
Published: 11 August 2009
Print: Hardcover, Viking Adult, 416 pages

Quentin is a high school kid who thinks he’s attending a private interview for admission to Princeton. In fact, the interview turns out to be for a place far stranger, Brakebills, a college devoted to teaching the magical arts. If this description sounds like Harry Potter: The College Years to you, you’re partly right. Quentin, like Harry, has always felt out-of-place in our mundane world. Yet in terms of style and focus, The Magicians is a very different book. Whereas J. K. Rowling largely relies on external symbolism and action to develop her characters, Grossman chooses to explore the inner lives of his characters in a manner reminiscent of FitzGerald, Faulkner, and other classical “literary” types.

This isn’t to say that The Magicians lacks appeal for readers who prefer page-turning action, suspense, and world-building. Although this is Grossman’s first fantasy novel, he certainly isn’t lacking in “geek cred”. At one point in the novel, one of the characters makes a quip of something to the effect that they should make a pornographic magazine for trees called Enthouse. Grossman is also a master world-builder. Central to the plot of the novel is a writer named Christopher Plover, who in the 1930s wrote a series of allegorical novels set in the fictional land of Fillory. So compelling is Grossman’s description of these novels that at first I was convinced that there was in fact a fantasy author who had escaped my notice. Only after Googling for Christopher Plover did I realize that he was actually Grossman’s creation.

The inclusion of Plover’s Fillory novels in the plot of The Magicians makes the book a discussion and critique of fantasy literature itself, what the genre is, is not, and should be.

The Magicians is the kind of novel that lends itself to close, careful reading and rereading. I’ll probably have more to say when I revisit it at some point in the future, a prospect I’m very much looking forward to.

Warbreaker
By Brandon Sanderson; Read by James Yaegachi
Audible Download – 24 hours 46 mins [UNABRIDGED]
Publisher: Recorded Books
Published: 2009
Print: Hardcover, 592 pages

Royal Princess Vivenna has been trained for a life of courtly politics and schooled in the art of diplomacy. Her younger sister Siri, on the other hand, has largely been left to her own pursuits, which mostly include pilfering food from the palace kitchens and dashing hither and thither across the fields of her father’s kingdom. Both girls are shocked, therefore, when Siri is chosen to marry the fearsome god-king of a neighboring province and, hopefully, avert a war. The story follows the lives of both sisters after this momentous decision.

Along with the royal sisters, the reader gets a glimpse into the life of a lesser god in the god-king’s court, the inaptly named Lightsong the Brave. In the universe of Warbreaker, gods are born when a person dies bravely and is mysteriously “returned.” Though cut off from the rest of the populace in their own district, the gods are like flesh-and-blood humans in many respects. The exact nature of this divinity becomes one of the central mysteries in Warbreaker.

Even though, as I said, Warbreaker is a response to Sanderson’s earlier works, it nevertheless resembles them in many respects. Though the novel’s magic system is refreshingly unique, the setting is otherwise typical Sanderson fare. Most of the action takes place in the lush private palaces and the city streets which Sanderson writes so well. The characters also resemble figures from previous books. I don’t think this is a case of the author becoming cliché or repeating himself. Rather, I think he’s written enough books now that he’s developing a unique style, and for the most part the style works.

The book’s magic system is incredibly inventive, even if it feels slightly contrived. Magic in the world of Warbreaker is based on color and life, with breath as its catalyst. With biochromancy, a user can draw on the color from an inanimate object and his or her own store of breaths to bring other objects and command them to lend their aid. Ropes shimmy up walls of their own accord; trouser cuffs lend extra strength for jumping, and tasseled shirt sleeves lend the wearer an extra set of strong fingers. While not as streamlined as the allomancy system in Sanderson’s Mistborn trilogy, the magic in Warbreaker lends an air of color, no pun intended, to a world that would otherwise seem a bit bland.

To my mind, Brandon Sanderson is one of the masters of the plot twist, and Warbreaker has them in spades, parcelled out to keep the novel moving at a good pace. Unfortunately, the novel’s ending falls a bit flat, and also leaves a few questions open, leading me to hope that Sanderson plans another novel set in this universe. Between The Wheel of Time and The Way of Kings, though, his dance card appears to be full for the foreseeable future.

Fans of Brandon Sanderson’s previous work will probably find much to like about Warbreaker, and fantasy readers interested in unique magic systems should certainly give it a read. On the other hand, there’s nothing truly revolutionary about Warbreaker, even with its creatively wacky magic. But hey, even Babe Ruth didn’t knock ‘em out of the park every time, and the way Brandon Sanderson’s career’s going that may proove to be a fitting analogy.

The Lies of Locke Lamora
By Scott Lynch; Read by Michael Page
Audible Download – 22 hours [UNABRIDGED]
Publisher: Tantor Audio
Published: 2009
Print: Mass Market Paperback, 736 pages

Orphaned at an early age, Locke Lamora must find his way on the streets and canals of Camorr, a city whose soaring elderglass spires and alchemical streetlamps meet roving street gangs and scheming guilds of thieves. Into one of the latter the young Locke Lamora soon finds employ, and quickly proves hmiself a most capable pickpocket and swindler. Alternating with chapters of Locke’s youth are chapters which comprise the main story, telling how Locke, as garista of the Gentleman Bastards, attempts to pull a massive scam on one of the city’s nobles. The novel’s unique structure keeps the story fresh and interesting. Just as the action in one timeline begins to flag, we cut to the other part of the story to complete more of the picture.

Locke Lamora is your typical noble-hearted thief, but he’s portrayed in a way that defies most of the clichés. Locke suffers some horrible tragedies both in his childhood and in present time, and he responds to these challenges in a strikingly human way. That is to say, sometimes he rises to the occasion, either internally or externally, and other times he does not. Lynch thus transforms what could have been a carbon copy of Robin Hood into a lifelike and ultimately likable character.

The other characters are no less well-drawn, from Locke’s hatchet-wielding partner Jean to the enthusiastic young Bug, the newest inductee into the Gentleman Bastards. Locke’s childhood mentor Chains, who masquerades as a blind, manacled priest by day, holds the childhood chapters together.

The city of Camorr is a character in its own right, highlighting Lynch’s considerable descriptive and worldbuilding skills. The city’s layout, criss-crossed as it is by broad canals traversed by boats, along with the Italianesque names of most characters, lends the city a Venetian feel, a Venice that might have been. Alchemy lights the city by night, and occasionally also serves more nefarious purposes. The city is ostensibly led by Duke Nicovante, but he’s clearly a figurehead, as the various nobles and street gangs hold de facto rule. The magic, geography, and politics combine to render Camorr as lifelick as the people who live there.

I initially found Scott Lynch’s writing style a bit off-putting, since The Lies of Locke Lamora features a high ratio of average swear words per page. In many recent fantasy novels, this comes off to me as pretentious, a deliberate rebuff of the pastoral sanitized language of the fantasy classics of yesteryear. Lynch, however, manages to pull it off. Mostly this is because the language fits so well with the characters and the setting. This is just the way I’d expect Locke Lamora and a band of thieves to talk. A healthy dose of humor doesn’t hurt either.

Part of the reason, I think, that the language didn’t bother me is that Michael Page does a fantastic job of narrating the audio version. For some reason, I wasn’t expecting a British narrator, but now I can’t imagine the story told by any other voice. Page is equal to the task of capturing the broad scope of Lynch’s world and characters.

Any reader of fantasy will probably find much to enjoy in The Lies of Locke Lamora, and fans of the heist genre of books or films will also likely enjoy experiencing that form transposed on a fantasy medieval setting.

Odd and the Frost Giants
By Neil Gaiman; Read by Neil Gaiman
Audible Download – 1 hour 46 mins [UNABRIDGED]
Publisher: Harper Audio
Published: 2009
Print:  Hardcover, 128 pages

Odd is a young boy living in Viking-age Norway cursed with more than his fair share of bad luck. First his father dies on a Viking raid, not in the glory of combat but by ignominious hypothermia. Then Odd is crippled when a tree falls on his foot. Nevertheless, he wears a constant enigmatic smile that irks his fellow villagers to no end, all save his loving mother, a Scotswoman whom his father had captured on a previous raid. One day, Odd comes across an eagle, a bear, and a fox, who just so happen to be Odin, Thor, and Loki, exiled from Asgard and from their true forms by the Frost Giants. Lifting the deities out of despondency, Odd takes it upon himself to help them reclaim the Hall of the Gods.

In many ways, Odd and the Frost Giants reads a bit like American Gods for kids. Gaiman’s research and interpretation of Norse myth is both thorough and inventive, and Odd is the quintessential quirky Gaiman protagonist. The theme of humanity encountering the divine is also prominent. The book’s young reader label should by no means dissuade adult readers, either, as Gaiman’s charming, poetic language is a thing to be savored at any age.

Like most of his audiobooks, Gaiman narrates Odd and the Frost Giants himself, and once again does a fantastic job, showing himself to be not only a great author but a talented performer. From Thor’s deep rumblings to Loki’s mellifluous yet malicious banter, Gaiman’s characterizations are spot on. My one complaint is that for some reason the audiobook producers decided to add an echo effect to Gaiman’s voicing of the frost giants, which only has the effect of rendering his powerful narrative silly.

This is a short review, but then, Odd and the Frost Giants is a short book. Go read it. I keep wishing that Gaiman would return to the more mature milieu of Neverwhere or American Gods, but until he does so I’m enjoying the delightful wonders he’s churning out as children’s books.

The Merchant of Death
By D. J. MacHale; Read by William Dufris
Audible Download – 12 hours 10 mins [UNABRIDGED]
Publisher: Brilliance Audio
Published: 2008
Print: Hardcover, 384 pages

The Merchant of Death tells the story of 14-year-old Bobby Pendragon, after whom the series is named. On the night of a crucial basketball game–Bobby is his high school’s star player–his eccentric Uncle Press summons him to help with an important task. Bobby soon learns that his uncle is in fact a Traveler, able to traverse between worlds using magical gateways or flumes. Press leads Bobby through one such gateway, pursued by the book’s arch-villain Saint Dane. At the other end of the gateway lies the world of Denduron, a land torn apart by class warfare. Meanwhile, Bobby’s best friend Mark Dimond and Bobby’s slightly-more-than-friend Courtney Chetwynde investigate Bobby’s disappearance.

The narrative alternates between Bobby’s adventures on Denduron and his friends’ attempts to track him down on “Second Earth”, as our world is called. As the story progresses, there is some interlocking between these two perspectives, which makes for good, seamless storytelling.

Bobby Pendragon is the stereotypical reluctant hero, initially unwilling to perform the seemingly impossible tasks that are suddenly thrust upon him. This is a cliché, trite fantasy trope, but Bobby Pendragon nonetheless comes across as sincere and likable. Mark and Courtney are equally well-developed. Unfortunately, the story’s antagonist, Saint Dane, comes across as a two-dimensional cardboard cut-out.

While the intricacies of Traveling between worlds, and the repercussions thereof, receive full development, at least for the first novel in a series, the world-building itself is as paper-thin as the villains. On the planet Denduron, the action is confined to a small geographic area, the lavish palace of the noble Bedoowan and the squalid village of the oppressed Milago. Though other “tribes” on the world of Denduron are briefly mentioned, the world feels fairly empty. This shortcoming is offset somewhat by the presence of Travelers from other worlds, but even these received short shrift.

D. J. MacHale’s lively writing style, full of wit and idiom, makes The Merchant of Death an enjoyable read despite its glaring flaws. MacHale’s background as a television writer is evidenced by his strong, sharp dialogue and spot-on choriography during action sequences. Slang and dialect are hard elements to pull off in a book, but MacHale pulls it off with seldom a hitch.

The Brilliance Audio edition of The Merchant of Death is narrated by William Dufris, whose work I’ve enjoyed on other audiobooks. In this case, however, I found his acting to be slightly over-the-top, over-emphasizing the snappy dialogue that stands well enough on its own. Still, his characterization is strong enough to distinguish the novel’s protagonist, lending each of them a unique voice. The melodramatic performance, moreover, might have been an intentional move on the part of Dufris and the director to make the novel more exciting to young listeners.

Although I’ve done it before and probably will do so again, I can’t help but feel unqualified to review young adult literature. After all, the jade lenses of adult cynicism have already been drawn over my eyes, despite my best efforts. If I try to examine The Merchant of Death from my ten-year-old past self, I imagine I would have been utterly drawn in. So young readers will probably enjoy the novel, and adults longing for a taste of their escapist childhood may also find here a delicious diversion.

Pride and Prejudice and Zombies
By Jane Austen and Seth Grahame-Smith; Read by Katherine Kellgren
Audible Download – 10 hours 23 mins [UNABRIDGED]
Publisher: Audible
Published: 2009
Print: Paperback, 320 pages

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a zombie in possession of brains must be in want of more brains.

So begins Pride and Prejudice and Zombies The opening sentence exemplifies the structure of the novel as a whole. At its core, this is still the Pride and Prejudice we’ve all read in high school or college, but with the addition of “ultraviolent zombie mayhem.” Wherever possible, Jane Austen’s original writing is preserved, and Seth Grahame-Smith does his best to match her proto-Victorian style in the added scenes. The novel’s zombies, for example, which have bedevilled England for over two decades, are called “unmentionables” in polite conversation, which lends an air of truth and credibility to the book’s absurd concept.

The Bennet sisters are still in search of husbands, but they also happen to be zombie killers, trained in the Shaolin tradition of combat. The conflict between town and country in the original masterpiece is paralleled here by a conflict between fighting styles, the Chinese tradition practiced by the Bennets and the Japanese ninja training espoused by Lady Catherine de Bourgh. The genteel courtesy of Georgian England is infused with an Oriental sense of warrior honor. London is a city under siege, districted into quarantined neighborhoods. In addition to the fear that Jane Bennet has taken ill after her visit to Mr. Bingley in Netherfield Hall, her sister Elizabeth worries she has also come down with “the strange plague” that begins the zombification process.

Yes, it’s absurd, but on the whole Seth Grahame-Smith has succeeded in building an alternate history that, though utterly implausible, is at least mostly internally-consistent. The seams between the original material and the reworked or added passages certainly show through at times. Despite their adherance to the Shaolin kung fu tradition, for instance, the Bennets still train in a dojo, and Elizabeth Bennet wields a katana. But as long as the reader doesn’t probe too closely, Pride and Prejudice and Zombies is an intentional mélange, rather than the unintentional mess it easily could have been.

Katherine Kellgren narrates the Audible version with perfect attention to the voices of the Pride and Prejudice characters we know and love. Lydia Bennet’s incessant babble is suitably annoying, Mrs. Bennet’s voice flutters nervously, and Lady Catherine de Bourgh’s condescension creeps through in every word. Amazingly, Kellgren’s voice is also capable of dropping a couple octaves for the occasional guttural zombie groan.

For those who have never had the pleasure of reading Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice and Zombies is a great introduction to her poetic language, since, as I said, much of her original writing is preserved. Even the overall themes and character development remain intact. Purists will balk, of course, as purists always do, but most readers who want to revisit a beloved author from a wild new perspective will not be disappointed.

A Harvest of Bones
By Yasmine Galenorn
Mass Market Paperback – 277 page
Publisher: Berkley Prime Crime
Published: 2005

I could try to summarize the premise of A Harvest of Bones in my own words, but the cover blurb probably does it better.

It’s harvest time in Chiqetaw, Washington; Emerald O’Brien’s favorite season. But this year, nature yields a most supernatural bounty. When Em and her sweetie, Joe, stumble over a bramble-covered foundation that has remained hidden for fifty years in the lot next door, strange events begin to occur. The cat vanishes. Will o’ the Wisps threaten to harm Emerald and her loved ones. And the ghost of a woman named Brigit and her beloved calico make themselves at home in the backyard. Now it’s up to Em and her friends to delve into the past, reveal the secrets of the dead and lay them to rest as they ring in the autumn with a harvest of bones.

Right from the outset, it’s obvious this isn’t your traditional mystery. Ghosts, vanishing cats, and strange glowing orbs lend an eerie tone to the pages of Bones. Emerald O’Brien, a practicing Witch, is more than up to these challenges. It’s refreshing to meet a main character who isn’t merely an occasional Pagan, more than willing to practice magical rites to banish the bad guys but subsequently reverting either to an amorphous agnosticism or even to a Monotheistic religion. Instead, Emerald’s magical background is for her a way of life. In this respect, it’s almost possible to regard A Harvest of Bones as a piece of religious fiction, though certainly not in any didactic or dogmatic sense of the word.

Although it’s not your traditional mystery, A Harvest of Bones features all the highlights of good mystery: a murder, a widening cast of characters and possible suspects, at least one red herring, and, most importantly, superb plotting. Structure is important in all modes of fiction, of course, but plotting seems especially important in mystery novels. From beginning to end, Bones is paced perfectly. No sooner than I’d feel the novel beginning to flag than some new twist or development would come hurtling out of left field to propel the story forward.

A Harvest of Bones also benefits from a whole lot of heart. Emerald O’Brien, her two children Miranda and Kip, her boyfriend Joe, and her circle of close friends form a tight-knit family, and it’s a pleasure to spend time with them even when they’re just sitting down for tea.

While A Harvest of Bones doesn’t present the all-out supernatural action of Galenorn’s Otherworld series, but the book is still marked by her unique flair for storytelling. Ultimately, it’s a book about love, honesty, forgiveness, and healing, and these emotional developments come to a satisfying resolution at the novel’s close. Who can say no to that?