Isle of Swords

Title: Isle of Swords

Series: Pirate Adventures #1

Author: Wayne Thomas Batson

Genre: Teen (13-16) High-Seas Adventure

Excerpt from “A Black Bird in the Storm,” Chapter 1 of Isle of Swords:

“Papa, I’m scared!” the little girl cried out as she slid awkwardly across the deck. Before she could regain her balance, she crashed into her father’s arms.

“Oh, Dolphin!” he said, shielding her from sheets of rain and sea spray. “What are you doing up here?”She looked up at him. “I heard a monster out in the sea!”

“A monster? My darling daughter, you heard the thunder and the wind, that’s all.” He snuggled her in close beneath his coat. “There are no monsters in the sea. It’s a storm.”

“But it’s a big storm!” she whimpered.

“No, not big. Just noisy.” But this voice was not her father’s.

A struggling pirate and his daughter must cross a powerful pirate lord to keep their ship—and family—afloat.

Craft: Choppy but clean. If I had to sum up the writing from Isle of Swords in one sentence, that would probably be it.

The plot is solid and straightforward, very reminiscent of the Pirates of the Caribbean movies. Action packs the pages, with swordfights galore and a few twists to keep the story unpredictable. However, the action is so constant as we jump from one crisis to the next, the reading feels a little bit choppy. In a similar way, the characters are very likeable and interesting, but tend to develop in fits and starts, with many POV jumps in a small space.

The prose itself is clean and easy to read. Unfortunately, that means there’s a higher use of short sentences and words, adding to the choppy feel.

But if you can get past the choppiness—and it does subside some farther into the book—there is a good story buried inside with some good humor and a fairly satisfying end.

Content: A Christian novel with the main heroes being pirates—it sounds like a contradiction. Yet Mr. Batson pulls it off for the most part. He treads carefully, thoroughly explaining the reasons behind why they became pirates and the protagonists are very vocally not Christian. He also resolves some of the tension in this area by the end. This doesn’t justify the wrong done in such a lifestyle, of course, so some discernment is needed in this matter. But the author tries very hard to strike a delicate balance and as a whole succeeds.

As for the spiritual threads, they surface in fits and starts, largely because of the non-Christian protagonists. So sometimes it’s hardly there, only to become blatantly obvious—on the edge of preachiness—on the next page. But it doesn’t seems forced for the most part, but flows naturally from the characters and their interactions. Other themes woven throughout the story include taking responsibility for actions, respecting authority, and the sovereignty of God.

As for topics of concern, the handful of supernatural elements—all connected with the Isle of Swords—are portrayed as divine protection. Violence is fairly common, with swordfights and navel battles. There are also a couple torture scenes and whippings. All are necessary, but given as light of a hand as possible, the results and character reactions the most common forms of showing.

Summary: Isle of Swords is a little choppy and not the most intellectually stimulating, but it provides a fun swash-buckling adventure. The writing would be exceptionally good with struggling readers. However, because of the stronger violence and questionable issues surrounding the pirates, a certain level of maturity and discernment is needed. Therefore I recommend that readers should be no younger than eleven or twelve without parental preapproval.

Rating: Craft—3, Content—3, Overall—3.5

Order Isle of Swords here, or from my Words of Whimsy bookstore. And don't miss my review of book 2, Isle of Fire!

Fighting Panic

Time is short.

Two weeks and I’ll be in Salt Lake City, preparing for my first workshop on fictional fitness. A few days later, I vendor at the UTCH conference. My four-hour workshop happens twenty-four hours after that.

My list is long.

Notes to prepare. Books to read. Handouts to print. Thoughts to unscramble. Each day more things to do are added. Now there seems to be so much, so many things I don’t want to forget, that my lists have lists.

Panic.

No. I wiggle free of the grip tightening around my stomach. I force myself to walk away, do something not on the list, to defy the demand I work to the exclusion of all else. I’ve done that before and it doesn’t work.

Everything will come together.

Panic or worry will only cause me to lose sleep and therefore make me more unproductive. I will keep plugging away. I will keep knocking things off the list. And I will watch God bring all the threads together, right on time.

Desensitization & Fiction

Before the February blog tour, we were covering the five levels of desensitization: rationalization, justification, complacency, snobbery, and gluttony. But I’ve been speaking in fairly general terms. So what does desensitization in fiction look like?It can take many forms. Sometimes it’s a story’s systematic disarming that allows fallacy to creep in, like in Twilight. Other times it is a consistent bombardment of ideas and images.

But the most common form of desensitization in story is probably the addiction to an emotional high. Highs come from the pulse-quickening and adrenaline-pumping that leaves the reader/watcher breathless and read to conquer the world. Think of the feeling that comes from a rollercoaster ride.

Of course, every person is unique, so that high can be obtained in a variety of ways. The scary horror film, the sappy happily-ever-after ending, the intense graphic violence, the sexually provocative, the time race of thrillers—any of these and many more can create the addictive high.

None of these are necessarily bad in of themselves. Nor is an emotional high evil either. The craving and addiction to the high is the problem. For just like drugs and alcohol, you will need more frequent fixes and more potent material to reach the same high level—scarier horror films, more violence, more heart-pounding scenes. In face, story is a type of drug in many ways. It just happens to be more socially acceptable than marijuana or even alcohol.

So what to do with the desensitization? That’s what we’ll be covering during the next few weeks.

The Reader-Writer Contract

Each time someone picks up a novel an unspoken contract is made between the reader and the author. The reader offers to suspend his disbelief, to give up his precious time, and to place his fragile trust in the hands of the authors. But time, trust, and a suspension of disbelief are not free; a reader wants something in return.

So what is it that a reader expects from the author?

• That the author will treat him as intelligent. We have brains and they do work. So don’t say everything or open every door. Hand us the keys and let us figure out how to unlock it ourselves.
• That the story will fulfill the conventions of the genre the novel claims to be. If it is a mystery, there better be a puzzle that needs solving.

• That the rules will not change and the author will play by the rules he sets up. If in the world created birds can swing but not fly, we better not see flying birds halfway through.

• That in a similar way, the style of the first page will be the style of the whole story. Is the first scene a humorous incident? Then the author has promised humor throughout the whole.

• That an emotionally satisfying experience will be given. While great prose is appreciated, a great story is a must.

• That there’ll be good ending, a primarily source for an emotionally satisfying experience. A multitude of errors will be forgiven if a great ending is provided. And what qualifies as a great ending? The release of tension that come from the sense of rightness, the feeling that this is the way things should—had—to be, whether bittersweet or happily-ever-after.

• That the author will not deceive the reader. An author can mislead a character and therefore the reader, but the truth must be there and twists properly foreshadowed so that a reader can look back and say, “Duh! Of course, that’s what had to happen. Why didn’t I see that coming?”

• That the flip-side of that will be fulfilled—all foreshadowing will be fulfilled. Or as is talked about in playwriting, if there’s a gun on the wall, it’d better be fired before the end of the act.

• Finally, Christian readers expect Christian authors to provide hope. To do otherwise is to defy the character of the God we serve.

This, of course, is hardly an exhaustive list. And the more books a reader picks up by a particular author, the more complex the contract, for the reader builds expectations of what that author will or will not do—better known as a brand.

But that is a topic for another post.

Cyndere’s Midnight

Title: Cyndere’s Midnight

Series: Auralia Thread Series #2 (Blue Strand)

Author: Jeffrey Overstreet
Genre: Adult Literary Fantasy

Excerpt from “The Heiress and the Oceandragon,” Chapter 1 of Cyndere’s Midnight:

Cyndere walked down to the water to make her daily decision—turn and go back into House Be Amica, or climb Stairway Rock and throw herself into the sea.

It had become a habit. Leaving her chamber early, while the mirror-lined corridors were empty of all but servants, she would traverse many bridges, stairs, and passages and emerge on the shores of the Rushtide Inlet, escaping the gravity of distraction. Today in the autumn bluster, she wore her husband’s woolen stormcloak at the water’s edge. She brought her anger. She brought her dead.

While the fog erased the wild seascape, waves exploded against the ocean’s scattered stone teeth, washed wide swaths of pebbles, and sighed into the sand. They carried her father’s whispers from many years past, mornings when he had walked with her along the tide’s edge and dreamt aloud. His bristling grey beard smelled of salt, prickling when he rested his chin on her head. He would place one hand on her shoulder and with the other hold a seashell to her ear. “Hear that?” he’d say. “That’s your very own far-off country. You will walk on ground no one has ever seen. And I’m going to find it for you when I venture out to map the Mystery Sea.”

He had done just that. While Cyndere’s mother, Queen Thesera, stayed home to govern her people within House Bel Amica’s massive swell of stone, King Helpryn discovered islands, sites for future Bel Amican settlements.

A heiress to a throne struggles to tame the beastmen that killed her husband.

The Craft: When I saw that Cyndere’s Midnight was on the blog tour’s schedule, I must admit I groaned inwardly and considered skipping this month. The end of Auralia’s Colors had so thoroughly put me off as a reader, I had no desire to continue the series and would have never read Cyndere’s Midnight, except for this blog tour.

I can now say I’m glad this novel was included. Is the writing perfect? No, but this story’s structure was much more balanced and satisfying than the one in Auralia’s Colors that off-put me so much. It appears that book one acts, as I had wondered, like a drawn-out prologues for the rest of the series.

Like Auralia’s Colors, Cyndere’s Midnight is literary in style, and the prose itself is very vivid and descriptive, with a certain lyrical quality to the way the words are used. This remains the writing’s strongest quality.

The cast of characters is very large for this second book. That wouldn’t be a problem normally, as many of them are returning from book one. But the time lapse caused some confusion for me. But beyond that, readers will be able to identify with complex and well-motivated characters, even though they aren’t the kind you fall in love with.

The plot continues to be the weak spot, in that while Mr. Overstreet builds a wonderfully complex tale, he seems to have difficulty bringing those strands together for a satisfying climax and end. That said, Cyndere’s Midnight is a vast improvement over the first novel. So while the ending is bittersweet, I didn’t walk away feeling like the author betrayed me.

The only other “major” criticism I have of the craft is the couple long flashbacks, which refer back to events that have already occurred within the story. The one in the chapter “Ryllion’s Faith” would be an example. The withholding of that much vital information simply to create suspense feels much like deception, a violation of the unspoken reader-writer pact. Compounding this, those flashbacks then turn into large info dumps, existing primarily to tell the reader about past occurrences—hence breaking the first rule of writing: show, don’t tell.

The Content: Cyndere’s Midnight mirrors the content of Auralia’s Colors. While this novel is not as dark or graphic as book one (or so it seemed), this remains very much an adult fantasy. The topics are more mature and some scenes are quite intense as they deal with war, murder, and other such things.

The spiritual thread remains deeply buried, even as the presence of the Keeper grows. There is also talk of moon-spirits and we meet some of the “seers” that serve them, but the story portrays them as a false religion, especially the farther you get into the story. More troubling is the mixed portrayal of Cyndere’s calling for the spirits of dead family members (they don’t show up, though) and the burning of items associated with them. It is possible, however, that I missed certain clues about this in my reading, that this will be dealt with more thoroughly in later books, or that the author intentionally left this vague, perhaps for characterization of Cyndere.

Themes are as numerous as the characters. Redemption’s reach, prejudice, and addictions are all topics wrestled with among these pages.

The supernatural elements are more clearly defined in this book. Most of the time the “magic” handled by the protagonists are portrayed as simple gifts given, like a musical ability, which are strengthened by following the Keeper.

Summary: Cyndere’s Midnight is a story that requires discernment. This is not bad or wrong. The result, however, is that certain people should avoid reading this tale: kids under sixteen, new Christians, and those needing clearly defined spiritual or magical elements. Also, this style is not highly recommended for readers who prefer fast-paced, high-action stories.

But if you like complex tales or prefer great prose, Cyndere’s Midnight might just be the tale for you.

Rating: Content—2, Writing—4, Overall—4.3

Find my review for Auralia's Colors (book 1) here and Raven's Ladder (book 2) here, or order Cyndere's Midnight here.

The Return of Jeffrey Overstreet

It’s February and it’s time again for the Christian Science-fiction and Fantasy blog tour. This month we’re focusing on Jeffrey Overstreet’s encore, the adult fantasy Cyndere’s Midnight. About a year ago the tour featured Mr. Overstreet’s Auralia’s Colors (check out my review and follow-up post), and Cyndere’s Midnight is the sequel to that book.

As usual, I’ll be posting a full review of Cyndere’s Midnight tomorrow with a follow-up post on Wednesday. In the meantime, hop over to Mr. Overstreet’s website and blog, or enjoy some of my fellow-blogger’s posts:

Brandon Barr, Keanan Brand, Rachel Briard, Melissa Carswell, Valerie Comer, Amy Cruson, CSFF Blog Tour, Stacey Dale, D. G. D. Davidson, Shane Deal, Jeff Draper, April Erwin, Karina Fabian, Andrea Graham, Todd Michael Greene, Katie Hart, Timothy Hicks, Jason Isbell, Jason Joyner, Kait, Carol Keen, Magma, Rebecca LuElla Miller, Eve Nielsen, Nissa, Wade Ogletree, John W. Otte, John Ottinger, Steve Rice, Crista Richey, Alice M. Roelke, James Somers, Rachel Starr Thomson, Robert Treskillard, Steve Trower, Speculative Faith, Fred Warren, and Jill Williamson

Inkheart

Title: Inkheart

Series: Inkheart Trilogy

Author: Cornelia Funke

Genre: Mid-grade (8-12) Magical Realism

Excerpt from “A Stranger in the Night,” Chapter 1 of Inkheart:

Rain fell that night, a fine, whispering rain. Many years later, Meggie had only to close her eyes and she could still hear it, like tiny fingers tapping on the windowpane. A dog barked somewhere in the darkness, and however often she tossed and turned Meggie couldn’t get to sleep.

The book she had been reading was under her pillow, pressing its cover against her ear as if to lure her back to its printed pages. “I’m sure it must be very comfortable sleeping with a hard, rectangular thing like that under your head,” her father had teased the first time he found a book under her pillow. “Go on, admit it, the book whispers its story to you at night.”

“Sometimes, yes,” Meggie had said. “But it only works for children.” Which made Mo tweak her nose. Meggie had never called her father anything else.

That night—when so much began and so many things changed forever—Meggie had one of her favorite books under her pillow, and since the rain wouldn’t let her sleep she sat up, rubbed the drowsiness from her eyes, and took it out.

A villain escapes from a book and a twelve-year-old girl who loves books must stop him from releasing a more dangerous foe yet.

The Craft: In many ways, it is difficult to analyze the writing of Inkheart. It is a translation into English from the original German, and no matter how good the translation, it will be never quite as good as the original. However, some things aren’t affected.

Like the premise: If you love books, if you have ever fallen in love with a set of characters so much that you wish you could meet them—this story will instantly capture your imagination.

Accordingly, the cast of Inkheart is colorful and varied, a mish-mash of the realistic and the fantastic. More than that, each character has his own quirks, motivations, strengths, and weaknesses, making a believable and complex group.

The plot is not quite as strong as the characters, but it still holds its own. Though not a page-turner, the tension is very much there and increasing, with plenty of unexpected bends in the road.

The climax is very satisfying, but the end and some of the character arcs feel incomplete—the hope-for redemption of some characters is missing. However, this is the first novel of a trilogy, and I suspect that many of the undone elements come into play in later books.

The Content: Inkheart is a mixed bag when it comes to content.

On one hand, it carries a dark edge, despite all the humor. The violence gets intense in a couple spots and there is some swearing. The text also makes it clear that the characters have no belief any god—or devil for that matter.

But on the other hand, there are some very powerful portrayals of family, defending of home, love, and self-sacrificing heroism. The main protagonist, Meggie, also does much growing up as she discovers the great responsibilities that come with powerful gifts.

Then there is the magical element itself—the reading of characters into our world. The book doesn’t explain the gift’s origin—not surprising with the lack of belief in God—but it appears only partially controllable. For while the reader can determine if he reads out loud and how he does so, he appears unable to control what exactly comes out or what goes in. So the magical element itself is borderline.

Summary: The swearing, dark edge, and borderline magic probably makes Inkheart ill-suited for most 8-12 year-olds, at least for reading alone. However, the book’s style lends itself for reading together as a family, in which case allowances could be made. Teens and adults with good discernment and fewer personal limitations in magic would also probably enjoy this story.

Rating: Writing—3, Content—2, Overall—3.3

Find Inkheart here.

Kiriath’s Quest

I felt bad about missing last week’s book review, so here’s an extra review this week…

Title: Kiriath’s Quest

Series: Stand-alone novel

Author: Rick Barry

Genre: Teen (13-16 yrs) Fantasy

Excerpt from “Ambush,” Chapter 1 of Kiriath’s Quest:

Lifting his eyes from the cobblestone roadway, Prince Kiriath admired the glinting walls and spires of Shiralla, situated on a broad shoulder of the mountain high above.

He called to Jekoniah, who rode the steed beside him. “Father, look. See how the morning sunshine—”

A loud chink, as of something beating metal, split the morning air. In that same instant, the prince felt something strike beneath his cloak.

King Jekoniah immediately looked at his son with alert, questioning eyes. “What was that sound?”

“Something struck my breastplate, here under my cloak!” Kiriath circled his horse to scan the ground, then pointed to the roadside. There lay a slender shaft with a crudely chipped arrowhead bound to its tip. “A black arrow.”

“Grishnaki!” Jekoniah muttered in disbelief, his eyes straining to pierce the underbrush.

Another arrow split the air between them.

“To Shiralla, Kiriath. Quickly!”

A prince sets out on a dangerous mission to rescue his father and the kingdom.

The Craft: The writing of Kiriath’s Quest was not what a reader hopes for in a story. Stiff, awkward—while I hate to criticize any book, there is very little in the craft for me to commend.

The premise is less than sterling—a pretty typical epic-journey fantasy. Nothing sparks the imagination or tickles the fancy or makes the reader go, “Oooh. That’s intriguing.”

Likewise, the plot is predictable. The few things that do surprise often come from a failure to set up a situation properly. For example, the unexpected knowledge the princess possesses about flying serpents. These sudden revelations make it appear such knowledge was added spur-of-the-moment to make an escape from the impossible plausible.

The dialogue sounds awkward, loaded down by information dumps, as-you-know sequences (characters talking about something they both know so the reader might be informed), and on-the-spot explanations.

The prose lacks flow and poetry. Too many explanations for the fantasy elements drain the wonder from the story. The character arcs fail to go much of anywhere.

There were a few spots of good humor, the world created is fairly complex, and some points carry good tension. Nonetheless, the story felt stiff and forced.

The Content: If the writing of Kiriath’s Quest was stiff, the content was flat. No astounding insights. No unexpected twists on the normal. Nothing that made me pull back and say, “I’ve never seen/thought about it that way.” The few themes I can pick out—the bond of family, the need for one another, risking life for others—lacked the vibrancy and power to inspire, teach, or edify.

As for topics of concern, the book is clean. Violence is kept to a minimum, and Mr. Barry goes to great lengths to explain that the fantastical elements are somehow scientifically based and therefore not occult-related in any way.

Summary: Kiriath’s Quest is as safe as fantasy reading gets. In fact, it has been made so palatable, that it has been blanched of all color and flavor. So unless you are desperate for reading material or wish to introduce fantasy to an overcautious Christian, you will probably want to bypass Kiriath’s Quest.

Rating: Writing—1, Content—3, Overall—2.5

Still interested? Order Kiriath's Quest here.

Off today

Today is my birthday. I'm celebrating. What else is there to say?

The Fifth Stage of Desensitization: Gluttony

What I write about here today I hope you will never know from experience. This is a hard level. A dangerous level. A deadly level. Here, in this fifth and final stage, all discernment is destroyed. Gone are rationalization and justification. Complacency and even snobbery are now past. All that is left is a hollow shell of what was, a craving of insatiable proportions. You no longer care about labels: Evil has become an addiction.

When we think of addictions, we often think of drugs or alcohol or gambling. But an addiction can come from anything, because all good things have a dark side. Therefore, you can exchange the good and evil (snobbery) before descending to this last level. Protectiveness can turn into stalking (addiction to a person). Confidence grows into pride (addiction to power—to being the leader everyone looks to). Even religious activities can become an addiction.

So if the craving dictates what you do, if the only thing that matters is finding the next fix or a greater high, then you have most likely broken into this final level and are in need of serious help.

Playing Around

As a writer, I carry my work with me everywhere, because quite simply, I refuse to detach my head from the rest of me. I know. That’s horrible of me. But I’m terribly afraid of misplacing it, and if I should lose it, a replacement would be rather hard to acquire.

The consequence is that my work tends to intrude on life. The voices in my head get great pleasure out of commentating on real conversations. The perfect turn of phrase will form as I’m driving down the road, and my mind often is unraveling that complicated plot twist in the middle of work. And that is assuming that there is something else I have to be doing. If I’m at home, I am usually in the middle of another world through reading or writing, and once I’m there—well, let’s say I can get a bit cranky with too many interruptions.

But while I like staying in the world I can control, I far too often forget controlling that world takes energy. I need time away. I need to recharge. I burn out if I don’t. The problem is that activities not directly related to my writing often seems frivolous, a waste of time—especially since my writing does not earn an income yet either.

Therefore, one of my New Year’s goals was to play more. So what does a writer like me do to play?

As expected, other creative activities have great appeal, since creativity can feed creativity. Music, both playing and listening to it, has been a big part of my life in the past. So with a Christmas gift of an MP3 player, I’m trying to reincorporate some of that music into my world. My tactile arts—weaving, spinning, crochet, sewing, cross-stitch—are also an enjoyable change from the intangible, imaginary realms I usually work with.

But of late, I’m finding activities opposite from my normal are also relaxing and invigorating. I like the physical interaction of Wii Play. Myst computer games exercise my logic and problem-solving. Even cleaning house and classifying books at the church library have become enjoyable. (Okay, enjoyable for housecleaning might be a bit strong, but still...) And of course, yakking with friends over a meal roots me in the real world again.

So what do you do for play? Maybe I’ll find myself a new hobby.

The Fourth Stage of Desensitization: Snobbery

Okay, so maybe snobbery isn’t the best name for this fourth level of desensitization. It doesn’t sound…sinister enough. But don’t let my poor labeling fool you: at this level discernment snaps, making breaching this level in any part of your life very dangerous.

Often marked by a sneering disdain for the simple or childlike (hence the label “snobbery”), this fourth level has the arrogant audacity to re-label the world. Good has become evil. Evil has become good. The virtues of God and His Word are mocked; vices of the world are held up the ideal. Water is called poison and poison water.

This is exactly what Satan wants. By switching the labels he can deceive and destroy many people; for believing they drink life, they will in truth drink death. Moreover, since God gains glory when even His attributes (love, patience kindness) are honored, Satan thwarts glory from God and to himself through this reversal.

So by entering this fourth stage, you become an unwitting partner in crime—with yourself often being the first victim. For since complacency lulls us into a false sense of security, deactivating our normal security system of discernment, an alarm now fails to warn us of the one posing as a friend is our enemy.