The Long Mars - Stephen Baxter and Terry Pratchett

   2014; 445 pages.  Book #3 (out of 5) in The Long Earth series.  New Author? : No, and No.  Genre : Hard Science Fiction; Multiverses.  Overall Rating : 4½*/10.

    You and I would call them “Multiverses”, but in the near future (2040 AD or so), when humans first learn how to transverse them (which they call “stepping”), the preferred term is “the Long Earth”.  Each parallel world is different, often only marginally so, but you are always in the same geographic spot.  If you "step" from Oshkosh, by gosh, you still end up in the same geographical spot on the neighboring "Earth".

    Oshkosh may or may not be there, of course, depending on how the timeline played out in that particular dimension.  So here’s a handy tip:  Don’t ever go stepping from the basement of a house.  In the next Earth, you may find yourself ten feet underground, buried alive.

    Just how many multiverses are there?  No one knows, but earlier “stepping voyages” have made it across millions of Earths.  Perhaps the answer is “infinite”.  Or maybe we should say “double infinity”, since you “step the other direction” and return through the worlds you came from.

    Now there is a new revelation.  If you journey to Mars (in a few select multiverses) and “step” away from there, you come across what appears to be a whole new set of multiverses, based on the timelines of Mars, not Earth.  And it’s pretty obvious what we should call that phenomenon.

    The Long Mars.

What’s To Like...

    There are three main storylines in The Long Mars, each one getting about equal time.  1.) Captain Maggie Kauffman heads a two-ship expedition across the Long Earth determined to set a new record for the number of multiverses in one direction.  There are whispers that some of her passengers have ulterior motives for making the journey, but no one has any details.  2.) Sally Linsay and two others start the inaugural voyage across the Long Mars, and it's anybody's guess what to expect on that trip.  3.) Joshua befriends a precocious-but-troubled youth named Paul Spencer Wagner to try to figure out why he’s so extraordinarily bright.

    I thought the writing was well done, which you’d expect from Terry Pratchett and Stephen Baxter.  The story takes place mainly in the US, which is impressive given that both authors are British.  The story is written in English, not American, so your flashlight is called a torch, your grey and ageing plough might be made of aluminium, and you have tyres on your car.

      I liked the nods given to other writrs of science fiction and fantasy, including Tolkien, Niven, Clarke, Asimov, and Herbert.  There was an obscure (for me) nod given to one Chesley Bonestell, which I had to look up in Wikipedia to understand.  The Russian cosmonaut Yuri Gagarin, also gets a nod, and I smiled when some Dune-esque sandworms appeared.

     The emphasis here is on “Hard Science Fiction”, and I think the aim of the authors was to give some idea of what it might be like if we ever did discover how to explore multiverses.  The inclusion of the “beanstalk” apparatus was a nice touch in this regard.  There is a minor story thread concerning rejuvenation, which I’m hoping will be followed up on later in this series.  And the brief mention of canisters of sulfur dioxide and hydrogen sulfide gave me a chuckle; I’ve worked with them both in my career.; they make thiosulfates.

    There are lots of space beasties to meet and avoid being eaten by.  The trolls, elves, kobolds, and “First Person Singular” are all from the previous two books; now we get to deal with talking cats, beagles, sentient crustaceans, and “the Next”.  And thanks to multiverses, we learn that the Plural of Mars is “Marses”.

Kewlest New Word. . .

Extirpation (n.) : the act of totally destroying or killing off of something.

Excerpts...

    “I do see that going through a soft place would be like wearing seven-league boots, Wotan – may I call you Wotan?”

    “No, you may not.”

    “But it would help if I understood how you can make these seven-league-boot jumps.”

    “Actually a better metaphor for a soft place is a wormhole.  A fixed passageway between two points.  As in the movie Contact.  You remember that?”

    “Is that the porno where-“

    “No.  Stargate, then.  What about that?  Oh, for some modern cultural references.”  (pg. 211)

    They weren’t like ordinary kids in the way that the nearest of them immediately rounded on Joshua when he stepped in with Paul, all armed with bronze knives, and a couple further out with raised crossbows.

    “It’s OK,” Paul said, hands held high.  He squirted out some of the high-speed babble.

    Joshua was still subject to suspicious stares, but the knives were lowered. (…)

    “What did you say to them?”

    “That you’re a dim-bulb.  No offence, Joshua, but that was obvious to them already.  Just from the way you looked around, with your jaw slack.  Like you showed up dragging your knuckles, you know?”

    “A dim-bulb?”  (pg. 261)

“You look as blank as a chimp faced with a banana fitted with a zip.”  (pg. 212 )

    Sadly, the disappointments I encountered in the previous book in this series, The Long War, reviewed here, continue in The Long Mars.  There is no advancement of the overall plot of this series, whatever that might be.   Even worse, the story is almost devoid of any action, a sci-fi requisite.  Here’s a list of every bit of excitement (without spoilers) over the course of the book:

a.) one gunshot is fired, but it's of no consequence,

b.) the survivors of a wrecked spaceship are found, with minimal intrigue ensuing.

c.) a being dies, onscreen no less, but it has no consequence on subsequent events,

d.) there’s a jailbreak, but it happens off-screen and we aren’t given the details.

    That’s it.  The rest of the book is predominantly character interaction and world(s)-building.

    The ending is mediocre at best.  The three storylines are hastily tied together, but nothing gets resolved.  Things close with Maggie listening to a scholarly debate about the plusses and minuses of extirpation.  Yawn.  Overall, it felt like the only purpose for The Long Mars is to set up events in the sequel.  At least I hope it does that.

    One last disappointment: The Chinese depicted in the book are markedly stereotyped. They're uncooperative with Maggie and her crew, only give vital food shipments for a starving Earth if attached political strings are complied with, and should first and foremost be remembered for their  repression of Tibet.  It would've been nice if some of them were a bit "gray" in character.

    4½ Stars.  I’m beginning to think this is one literary collaboration that just didn’t work out well.  The Pratchett wit is completely missing here, along with any semblance of a story.  Maybe each author was afraid to mess up whatever plotline the other was planning.  Two books remain in this 5-book series, and there's no doubt that I’ll read them.  But I no longer expect much out of this series.

An Idiot In Love - David Jester

   2016; 236 pages.  Genre : Coming of Age; British Humour; Dark Romance.  Overall Rating : 6*/10.

    It’s what you’d call a mixed blessing for Kieran McCall.  On one hand, girls have always seemed to be attracted to him.  Even way back in elementary school (or whatever they call it over in England) when girls were known to be infested with cooties

    It continued through the higher grades, when girls definitely became more interesting.  And after he’d finished school, women still were hitting him up in the workplace.  Kieran was certainly “gifted” when it came to the opposite sex.

    Alas, there was a downside as well.  Maybe even a couple of them.

    First of all, Kieran was kind of a nerd in school, and bullies took it personally if he flirted with the girls they were chasing.  Second, all the attractiveness that girls and women saw in him disappeared as soon as Kieran opened his mouth.  Amazingly stupid words always came out of it.

    Or even grosser things.

What’s To Like...

    An Idiot In Love is a coming-of-age tale, and we tag along with Kieran as he tries to fathom the complexities of the opposite sex, searches for love in all the wrong places, and usually ends up settling for simple lust.  The plotline is similar to the book Veins by “Drew” and reviewed here, but Drew’s protagonist is mostly obnoxious while David Jester’s is, as the title suggests, an idiot.

    The book is written in English, not American, and in addition to the spelling variations of certain words (favour, pulverise,  etc.) and calling soccer “football”, there were a bunch of strange terms and phrases to suss out, such as: netball, Minstrels and Maltesers (types of candy, I gather), bungled (= bundled), scuppered, football stickers, skint, punters, a spotty waiter, and the mysterious numpty.  I love trying to figure these things out.

    Depsite being a coming-of-age tale, this is not a book for the kiddies.   There’s a lot of cussing, which is the norm for schoolyard and workplace guy-talk, plus Fate puts Kieran through all sorts of adult situations in his search for true love.  Things like nudist beaches, speed dating, getting arrested for public nakedness, and other things (including Rampant Rabbits) that you wouldn’t want little Johnny or Susie reading about.

     The humor is not going to be to everyone’s taste, but I liked it.  The “Pink Panther vs. Monty Python” debate is correctly answered, and I liked the nod to the movie “Aliens”.  Hey, it scared the crap out of me as well.  The book is written in the first-person POV (Kieran’s), and overall I found An Idiot In Love to be a fast, easy read.

    The ending is rather predictable, although I say that about all romance books and movies.  But it was also clever and had a couple twists to it that I didn’t see coming.   I’d call it both logical and a bit over-the-top, neither of which is a criticism.

Excerpts...

    I slumped down next to Max who was hacking away at the paper.  “I’ve got a girlfriend,” I said, my voice trickled out my mouth like it didn’t want to leave.

    Max didn’t take his eyes off his painting.  “Laura?”

    “Jenny.”

    “I didn’t know you liked her.”

    “Me neither.”  (loc. 901)

    She held out a hand, and offered a smile.  “Doctor Peterson,” she said.

    I mumbled something, snapped out of my trance and said: “Kieran,” suddenly not entirely sure that was my name.

    She sat down opposite and took a folder out from a bag she had carried in with her.  I studied her intently.

    “So, Kieran,” she spoke slowly.  “What brings you here?”

    She was joking, but I answered her anyway.  “Two guys claiming to be police officers.  You?”

    “A naked guy carrying a wooden leg.”  (loc. 6062)

Kindle Details....

    The Kindle version of An Idiot In Love sells for $10.99 at Amazon, while the paperback version goes for only $7.69.  You can draw your own conclusions about that.  There is a sequel, An Idiot In Marriage, which also sells for $10.99.  David Jester has several other full-length books to offer (mostly thrillers), as well as several novellas in the horror genre.  The novels are priced in the $9.99-$12.99 range; the novellas at $0.99.

She was a nine year old underachiever with the charm of a fairy-tale stepsister.  (loc. 32)

    There are a couple of quibbles.  The writing style is what I call storytelling mode:  in the “Kieran did this, then he did that” format; and without any depth-of-character.  For this sort of story though, I think it suffices.

    The way most of the females instantly cotton to Kieran is a bit hard to believe, but it has the upside of keeping the story moving along briskly.

     The most serious deficiency is the need for some competent editing, in particular to correct the lack of commas when a person is directly addressed in the dialogue.  To borrow an oft-used example, there is a huge difference between “Let’s eat, Timmy” and “Let’s eat Timmy”.  This got distracting after a while, and there were numerous  other “spellcheck errors”.

    6 Stars.  An Idiot In Love wasn't a spectacular read, but it entertained me, and sometimes that’s all you ask a book to do.  Add 1 star if you can relate to any of the awkward situations that Kieran endured.  I did.

Dead Beat - Jim Butcher

   2005; 513 pages.  Book 7 (out of 15) of the “Dresden Files” series.  New Author? : No.  Genre : Urban Fantasy; Humorous Fantasy; Urban Mystery.  Overall Rating : 9*/10.

    Halloween is just three days away, and in Chicago, Harry Dresden’s stomping ground, just about everyone’s excited.

    For most Chicagoans, it’s time to stock up on candy, buy or make some costumes for the kids, and get ready for a night of trick-or-treating.  For a few, with a New Age-y bent, it means preparing to celebrate a sacred event, Samhain.  Harry Dresden, however, is filled with a sense of foreboding.

    Because, as Chicago’s resident (and only) practicing wizard, Halloween is the time of year when the barriers between our “real” world and the spirit world (known as the “Nevernever”) are at their weakest.  That means a sharp increase in otherworldly creatures, including demons and faeries, crossing over from the other side to our neck of the multiverse.

    This year, that includes a small band of necromancers, who have their own agenda for this Halloween.  They are up to some sort of deviltry, Harry isn’t sure exactly what, and they need a human to do their bidding: to find and bring to them something called the “Word of Kemmler”.  No later than Halloween night.

    Someone like Harry Dresden.  Who has just been blackmailed by one of the necromancers into taking this assignment.  If he doesn't do it, incriminating photos will get sent to the wrong people.

    Three days is an incredibly short time to do the job.  Especially since Harry has no idea what the Word of Kemmler is, let alone where to find it.

What’s To Like...

    Dead Beat is my seventh book in Jim Butcher’s fantastic ”Dresden Files” series, which means I’m about halfway through it.  There are lots of characters to keep track of, some new, some recurring.  Bob the Skull is back, and he’s one of my favorites.  So is Mouse, who I gather is recurring but who I’ve apparently forgot.  Sue is new, but here’s hoping she’ll get called on again.  Ditto for Waldo Butters, who’s my kind of hero.

    This is vintage Jim Butcher – the snarky wit starts immediately (roommate issues), and the action kicks in shortly thereafter.  As expected, there’s lots of magic involved and a slew of baddies to keep Harry and friends in peril up to their ears.

    If critters are your cup of tea, you’ll love Dead Beat.  I remember faeries, vampires, werewolves, and fallen angels (now demons) from before, along with maybe ghouls, zombies, specters, and an incubus or two.  Now we have necromancers, ectomancers (say what?), Ninja ghouls, a Renfield, corpsetakers, and a reptile added to the menagerie.

    I enjoyed learning about anthropomancy (huh?), and the Vader syndrome, and got a chuckle out of a bad case of “ergot poisoning”.  I liked the literary nods given to Fahrenheit 451 and Watchers, the latter being my favorite Dean Koontz book.

    Interwoven amongst all the mayhem was an interesting bit of situational ethics for Harry to ponder:  Do the ends (saving lots of lives) justify the means (using a kind of magic he’s sworn never to dabble in)?  I appreciated that the author wasn’t afraid to let Harry resolve that question.

    Exciting endings are a Jim Butcher specialty, and he comes through yet again with this one.  It’s both twisty and tension-filled.  A couple plot threads remain open, those involving Cowl and Kumori, the Erlking, and Harry’s mangled hand.  I’m sure all will get addressed down the line somewhere.

Kewlest New Word...

Tulwar (n.) : a curved saber or scimitar used in the Orient and northern India.

Excerpts...

    “Your timing is improbable.”

    He sounded amused.  “In what way?”

    “Coming to my rescue just as someone was about to punch my ticket.  You must admit, Marcone, that it smells like a setup.”

    “Even I occasionally enjoy good fortune,” he replied.

    I shook my head.  “I called you less than an hour ago.  If it wasn’t a setup, then how did you find me?”

    “He didn’t,” said Gard.  “I did.”  She looked over her shoulder at Marcone and frowned.  “This is a mistake.  It was his fate to die in that alley.”

    “What is the point of having free will if one cannot occasionally spit in the eye of destiny?” Marcone asked.  (pg. 209)

   “I hear some crazy things.”

    “Like what?” I asked.

    He shook his head.  “That terrorists blew up the power plant.  Or maybe set off some kind of nuke.  How would we know?”

    “I think someone might have noticed a nuclear explosion,” I said.

    “Oh, sure,” he said.  “But hell, maybe somebody did.  Practically no phones, radio is damned near useless.  How would we know?”

    “I dunno.  The big boom?  The vaporized city?”

    The vendor snorted.  (pg. 341)

“Life is a journey.  Time is a river.  The door is a jar.”  (pg. 179)

    The nitpicking is minor, and similar to what I listed in my previous Dresden Files review (shown here).  The title didn’t seem to have any tie-in to the book, but that’s not important.  Michael's MIA, and Murphy was a late-show, but I'm sure both will be back, and there were lots of other people and creatures to keep my interest.

    There seemed a bit more musing and explaining than usual, but I suspect those give vital insight into Harry’s mindset for anyone who isn’t reading the series in order.  A case could be made that the plotlines in these books are formulaic.  For instance, I’ve noticed that if there’s an aged White Wizard in the storyline, his chances of surviving the tale are pretty slim.

    And hey, even if it is formulaic, I like Butcher’s formula.

    9 Stars.  The Amazon and Goodreads overall ratings for this book are 4.7/5 and 4.43/5 respectively.  Those are impressive rankings for both sites, but IMHO completely deserved.  I had high expectations for Dead Beat, and it fully lived up to them.

27 - Howard Sounes

   2013; 307 pages.  Full Title : 27 – A History of the 27 Club through the Lives of Brian Jones, Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Jim Morrison, Kurt Cobain, and Amy Winehouse.  New Author? : Yes.  Genre : Non-Fiction; Biography, Music History.  Overall Rating : 9½*/10.

    It’s music trivia time!  Here’s a couple of tidbits that you might not know about the lives of some of the biggest names in rock-&-roll.

Brian Jones.  One of the founders of the Rolling Stones, he was both asthmatic and bipolar.  He was one of the first British musicians to use LSD heavily.  He had his girlfriend stolen from him by bandmate Keith Richards.

Jimi Hendrix.  His birth name was Johnny Allen Hendrix, and he was part Cherokee.  He played guitar left-handed.  At one time he was an “item” with Janis Joplin.  He served in the army, but got discharged by telling them he was gay.

Janis Joplin.  For a while she golfed at a country club.  She was an “item” with Jimi Hendrix, but had a fight with Jim Morrison, and was once slapped by Jerry Lee Lewis. She was bi.

Jim Morrison.  He wanted to be a poet, not a singer.  His father was a US Navy admiral.  He was an avowed “Dionysian”, and once had a fight with Janis Joplin after he'd acted like a jerk.

Kurt Cobain.  He played guitar left-handed.  At one point early in his career, he was a “sofa-surfer”.

Amy Winehouse.  She was bulimic.  Her favorite book was Catch 22 by Joseph Heller.

    Oh yeah.  They all died when they were 27 years old, which is the central theme of Howard Sounes’ book, “27”.

What’s To Like...

    I liked the book’s structure.  Howard Sounes divides it into two roughly-equal sections: Life (Prologue and chapters 1-7) and Death (chapters 8-13 and Epilogue).  Basically, you get to watch each star’s meteoric rise, and then watch them crash-&-burn.  Sometimes a chapter is devoted to a single person, other times a chapter features several stars.

    It is not a spoiler to say that statistically there is a “spike” for rock stars dying at the age of 27, but it’s not an anomaly, no matter how you manipulate the data.  Still, six mega-stars dying at the same young age is noteworthy, and  Howard Sounes searches for common factors in their all-too-brief lives to explain this.  Here are a couple of the commonalities:

    Heroin use (5/6)

    Little contact with their families growing up (5/6)

    Brushes with the law  (4/6)

    Early success in life (6/6, and yes, that’s a tautological concept since the book is about famous people who died at 27).

    Also, most of them died at night, and all of them were heavily into booze, meds, and other drugs.

    There are 30 pages of “Source Notes" in the back, plus a five-page Bibliography, which gives you some idea of the extent of Howard Sounes’ research for this book.  What’s unique, though,  is that he seems to have done extensive interviewing of friends, family, music business associates, and bandmates to supplement the previous documentation.  I liked this, although admittedly it leaves the door open for unsubstantiated gossip and slanted recollections.

    I enjoyed learning what the “Texas Sharpshooter Fallacy" and the “Yoko Ono Syndrome” are, as well as why we’re still seeing “new releases” by Jimi Hendrix more than 40 years after his death.  There are 16 pages of photographs of these rock stars, some of them less than flattering.  You’ll learn the origin of the band names “The Doors” and “The Rolling Stones”, neither of which was what I had thought.

    Howard Sounes is a Londoner, thus the book is written in English, not American.  Besides spelling differences, here are some of the “English” phrases used that I encountered:  Indian takeaway, sloping off, bunk off, Jack the Lad, tipped up, Readers Wife, bodged, full of beans, tetchy, and rowed.  That last one means “argued”, and the first one is what we Yanks call "takeout food".  I can only guess at the rest.

    The Epilogue does a nice job of bringing closure to these six mini-biographies.  Howard Sounes discusses the size of each star’s estate and how it was handled, since a lot of them didn’t leave a will.  Death brings out the worst in some people, especially when the deceased is famous.  Death is also great for just about any artist’s career, and Sounes updates you on how each of these artists is doing commercially nowadays.  In all cases, it’s better than you’d think.

Excerpts...

    “Just how do you get down after the show so you can sleep? (…) [A] few stiff drinks and a sleeper sped you on your way.  But plane time would come long before the sleeper wore off, hence the leapers.  But the flights are terribly boring when you’re up, so a creeper rounds off the edges and a lot of drink takes a bit of the cotton wool out of your mouth.  But booze (…) makes life a bit grim, so “just a bit” of acid makes you feel all tingly and good.  But it’s hard to concentrate on acid, so a quick sniff of coke (…) brings the brain briefly to attention while you smoke some grass or hash to take the nerviness out of the coke.”  (pg. 119)

    Visitors to Jim Morrison’s grave are a mixed bunch, of all ages from all over the world, not necessarily fans of the Doors.  Rather, the grave has become one of the sights to see in Paris.  “It’s an iconic life – live hard, die young,” observes Kyle Fisher, a middle-aged man from Ohio, visiting with his daughter in 2012.  “I think he was in the 27 Club.”  Peter Niedner from Germany believes that the number 27 is important.  “The two and the seven is a nine, and nine is a special number,” he says enigmatically, at the graveside.  “What I think is amazing is that he is more than forty years dead and you can come whenever you want and you see fresh flowers.”

    “Plastic.”

    “Yeah, but someone put them there.”  (pg. 293)

Tragedy is so romantic when people write about it, but it is horrible to see.  There’s nothing pretty about a person destroying themselves.  (pg. 123 )

    About ¼ of the Amazon reviews for “27” are negative – 3 stars or less.  A lot of the criticisms seemed to fall into three categories: too much cussing, not enough attention to conspiracy theories, and “too much Amy Winehouse”.

    There is cussing, but most of it is when the author is giving a direct quote from one of his interviewees.  Sounes does take the time to debunk some of the wacko conspiracy theories, which frankly ignore Occam’s Razor.  Personally, I rather like conspiracy stories, but here, the evidence of a.) excessive drug-use and alcoholism, b.) mental issues, c.) suicidal thoughts, d.) the soul-destroying grind of near-constant touring, and e.) the jaded despair when finding out that fame early in life doesn’t bring happiness all are far more believable causes for the demise of these six than murderous intent.

    Finally, it is true that the book  devotes more attention to Amy Winehouse than the others, but I suspect that’s because her death is a lot more recent and there are a lot more people worth interviewing around for her than for the earlier subjects.

    In closing, I found “27” to be an enlightening book.  The “warts” that are revealed about the dead six rock stars may not be flattering, but they do show that they were real, albeit flawed, human beings.  There are lessons to be learned here about fame, partying, friends, family, and substance abuse that just might save someone’s life.

    9½ Stars.  If six deaths seems a bit scant to you, Howard Sounes gives a “Long List” of fifty music-industry people who died at age 27 in the back of the book.  If fifty deaths seems a bit scant to you, Wikipedia has its own list of seventy-plus stars who died at 27 as well.  The link to Wiki's list is here.

Murder By Misrule - Anna Castle

   2014; 331 pages.  Book 1 (out of 6) in the “A Francis Bacon Mystery” series.  New Author? : Yes.  Genre : Historical Mystery; Historical Fiction; English History Fiction; Romance.  Laurels: One of Kirkus Review’s “Best Indie Books of 2014”.  Overall Rating : 8½*/10.

    Young Francis Bacon is in a pickle.  He’s been banished from the court by no less a person than Queen Elizabeth herself.  Over a silly triviality: Francis had merely suggested, at length, that the English judicial code could use some improvements.  For some reason, the Queen took offense at that.

    The logical step is to do something to get back in her good graces.  But therein lies the challenge.  When you’ve been kicked out of her presence, how can you do or say something that will mollify her?

    Well, Francis’s uncle, Lord Burghley, has a suggestion.  Just the other day, on “Queen’s Day”, no less, Tobias Smythson, an esteemed barrister, was brutally murdered while out for a stroll.  Lord Burghley’s had suggested that if Francis were to investigate and figure out who did it, that might appease the Queen.  The lack of any clues or suspects is a challenge to overcome.

    Actually, it wasn’t a suggestion by Lord Burghley.  It was a demand.

What’s To Like...

    Murder By Misrule is set in Elizabethan England towards the close of 1586.  The "Society of Gray’s Inn", a quasi law school, of which 25-year-old Francis Bacon is a part, is winding down its agenda as the Christmas holidays approach, and Francis engages the help from a team of young law students in the murder investigation.

    The “Historical Mystery” angle is dome well.  There is a Sherlock Holmesian tone to the story, with one student, Thomas Clarady, playing Watson to Bacon’s Sherlock, and the rest of the solicited law students forming a kind of “Baker Street Irregulars” crew.  But this isn’t an Arthur Conan Doyle wannabee.  Our protagonists are concerned with the “who” done it, not the “how”, and Francis is perfectly capable of making some errors in deduction.  Also, the “police” (Sir Walter Ralegh and the Earl of Cumberland) are not the blithering idiots like Holmes had to deal with.

    All the characters are “gray”, which is a definite plus.  Francis may be the star of the story, but he can be arrogant, fawning, and even obnoxious at times.  Clarady is prone to being a butthead, and the rest of the team squabble among themselves, blab when they should keep silent, and pick fights when they ought to be discreet.  I loved it.

    I found the book to be unexpectedly witty.  Bacon and his team may have their faults, but they are sharp of tongue, and the banter includes things like the riddle “how many lawyers are wanted to light a lanthorn?”  The answer is in the book.

    The “Historical Fiction” aspect of the book was great,  The setting truly felt like 16^th-century London, and I enjoyed the details of the time, such as what they used back then as toilet paper.  The answer may surprise you.  There’s a modicum of cussing, mostly variations on the word sh*t, but more often Anna Castle has the boys come up with original phrases, such as spur-galled gudgeon, knotty-pated pompions, foul pustule, oniony puttock, and my personal favorite, pompous potbellied porker.

    Interwoven among all the mayhem, banter, and sleuthing is the more serious theme of the time – the strife between Protestants and Roman Catholics for control of England.  Some present-day hot-button topics are also examined, such as equal job opportunities for women, and what is euphemistically called “intramasculine amores”.  I should mention that there is a “Romance” aspect as well, developed enough to appeal to female readers, yet not be off-putting to male ones.

    There are a couple of neat plot twists along the way, including; the one that involved Trumpet completely blindsided me.  The ending is good; it’s a bit “over the top”, but that’s okay, it makes for a more dramatic (literally) and exciting finish.  All the major plot threads are resolved, although things like the Tom’s romantic options presumably carry over to Book Two.

Kewlest New Word ...

Hobbledehoy (n.) : a clumsy or awkward youth..

Others : Farthingale (n.), Pipkin (n.), Marl (v.), Wherry (n.), Spondulate (adj., and with unknown meaning), Gleeking (v.), Moot (n.) Verisimilitude (n.).

Excerpts...

    He’d asked for a modest salary of four hundred pounds per annum, with two clerks.  An ambitious proposal, certainly, but arrogant?  He still could not comprehend that charge.  He was young, yes, but his gifts were evident.  His parents had taught him not to disguise his God-given talents with false modesty, but to exercise them for the benefit of society.  If his manner tended to be reserved, it was through fault of bashfulness, not pride.

    Apparently the distinction between a lack of false modesty and arrogance was one he had yet to master.  (loc. 552)

  “Her lips are too big.”  Trumpet broke into his reverie.  He sounded like he’d been pondering the topic for some time and had reached a final ruling.  “They seem unwholesome, like overripe fruit.”

    “Her lips are magnificent,” Tom said.

    “Her eyes are too deeply set,” Trumpet said.  “They look secretive, ill-tempered.  That type doesn’t age well.  Trust me, in a few years, she’ll look like a hag.”

    “Angels never age.”  Tom’s love was imperturbable.  (loc. 2563)

Kindle Details...

    Murder By Misrule is currently (and usually) free at Amazon.  The next book in the series, Death by Disputation, is a mere $0.99, and the rest of the books in the series are priced at $4.99 each.  Anna Castle also writes a series titled “Professor and Mrs. Moriarty Mysteries”, which at present consists of three books.  They go for $4.99 apiece.   

 “I hated the Hermits. (…) “For one thing, if they’re so devoted to hermitation, why do they go about in a group?”  (loc. 145)

    There’s really not a lot to quibble about in Murder By Misrule.  Some of the names of historical people seemed to be deliberately misspelled, such as "Ralegh" for "Raleigh".  Maybe these were Middle English spellings.  The fate of Clara’s husband seemed telegraphed to me, but frankly I say the same thing about every Hallmark TV movie that my wife watches this time of year.

    Some Amazon reviewers didn’t like all the obscure and/or archaic Middle English words used in the tale, but I thought they were great.  Other reviewers were turned off by the sex, violence, and cussing, but hey, this is NOT a cozy mystery.  Also, beyond the “intramasculine amores” angle, there seemed a subtle and unanswered question of whether Francis himself was gay or bi.  I suspect this will be examined again later on in the series, and I’m sure some will be upset by it.

    In summary, I found Murder By Misrule to be a great read.  The pacing was good, the characters were all unique and well-developed, the history was detailed without being a bunch of info-dumps, and the whodunits were both interesting and logically resolved.  Book Two, Death By Disputation, awaits on my Kindle.

    8½ Stars.  The book’s titular holiday, called the “Season of Misrule”, was once a real celebratory time in England.  Nowadays it’s pretty much disappeared.  Wikipedia has a small-but-informative article about it, which you can read here.

Nature Girl - Carl Hiaasen

   2006; 399 pages.  New Author? : No.  Genre : Crime-Humor; Florida Crime Noir; Satire.  Overall Rating : 7½*/10.

    Telemarketers.  Everybody hates them.  You, me, Honey Santana, and anybody else who owns a cell phone or landline.  Some people sass back at them, others (including my son) yell into the receiver at them.  Most of us just hang up the phone and hope that they don’t call back again.

    But not Honey Santana.  She’s off her meds, which means she has a tendency to overreact to life's annoyances.  Like a telemarketer named Boyd Eisenhower, calling from Texas, and who has the misfortune of pitching a sales spiel for a can’t-miss real estate opportunity in Florida.  That just happens to be Honey’s stomping grounds.

    Harsh words ensue from Ms. Santana, and, in violation of common sense and company policy, Boyd utters some things he shouldn’t have back through the phone at Honey, then hangs up on her.  Honey Santana is left with an 800 phone number, probably phony, and a burning resolve to make Mr. Eisenhower regret using such insulting language on her.  But what can she do? 

    Heh.  Well, when she’s off her medicine and in a royal snit, there’s just about no limit to what she can cook up.

What’s To Like...

    Nature Girl is Carl Hiaasen’s 11^th book (out of 14) in what I call his “Florida Noir” group of novels.  I wouldn’t call it a series, since recurring characters are few and far between, but I like it that none of the characters here are pure white or black.  Even the telemarketers have some redeeming qualities and all of them are delightfully absurd, including my favorites, Brother Manuel and Sister Shirelle.

    As with any Hiaasen novel, almost the entire story takes place in Florida, near Everglades City (which is real), a nearby treacherous maze of swampland called Ten Thousand Islands (which is also real), and Dismal Key, a wee bit of dry ground that Sammy Tigertail retreats to (and others stumble across), which is real as well.  All these places are accurately depicted by Hiaasen; you can read about them in Wikipedia.

    The portrayal of the telemarketing business is spot on as well.  I'm at home during daylight working hours, and it's amazing how many scam calls we receive every day.  Interestingly, telemarketers know to not call too early, and to cut off the calls at 5:00.  They do this so as to not enrage hapless residents, and they even compensate for different time zones.

    The storyline introduces you to a real disorder called Asphenphosmphobia, which Google can tell you all about, but not Wikipedia, although the latter will redirect you to the synonymous term, Haphephobia.   You’ll also read the real story behind the 1800's song “Old Folks at Home”, plus learn the useful trick of how to tell a real person from a death spirit.

    As always, Carl Hiaasen throws an abundance of humor and wit into the story, plus some fascinating tidbits of Florida history.  Here, he enlightens us about the foremost Seminole chieftain, Osceola.  There’s a slew of music references; everything from Weezer and Limp Bizkit to Dire Straits and Stephen Foster.  The title comes from a cursory remark on page 186, and I chuckled at Eugenie’s bestselling novel, Storm Ghoul, which is every bit as well-written as Fifty Shades of Grey.

    The ending wraps things up satisfactorily for all concerned parties.  It isn’t particularly twisty or exciting, but it is logical on all counts.  Most (but not all) of the characters finish up happier than at the start, and I especially liked how Hiaasen resolved Boyd’s fate.  Nature Girl is a standalone novel, with no plot strings left untied for a sequel/

Kewlest New Word. . .

Cacique (n.) : a native chief.

Excerpts...

    Certain grisly suspicions were floated before the local police, but no one paid much attention until Mrs. Bonneville’s body was found in her Pontiac at the bottom of the St. Johns River.  It was her husband’s contention that Mrs. Bonneville’s Bonneville had been swept away by the onrushing flood as she wheeled out of the driveway in a frantic quest for Marlboros.  Doubt fell upon this story as soon as police divers revealed that Mrs. Bonneville had been snugly strapped into the driver’s seat.  Well known among her friends was the fact that on principle Mrs. Bonneville never buckled her seat belt, even though it was required by state law; an ardent libertarian, she opposed government meddling in all matters of personal choice.  (pg. 20)

    “I’m so psyched about tonight,” Sienna said.”  Aren’t you?”

    Skinner studied the bubbles in his beer.  He was trying hard to recall what was on the agenda.

    “Green Day, remember?” she said.  “God, Perry, don’t tell me.”

    “Sure, I remember.  They’re playin’ in Fort Myers.”

    “You said you liked ‘em.”

    “I meant it, too.”  To Skinner’s knowledge, he’d never heard any of the band’s songs; he was country to the bone.

    Sienna said, “We don’t have to go if you don’t want.  I could sell the stupid tickets on eBay in about thirty seconds.”

    “Please don’t pout.  I already said we’re going.”

    “Twice I went with you to see Willie Nelson.  Twice.”  (pg. 188)

 Eugenie Fonda sat cross-legged on the bathroom floor, listening to Sacco’s theory that Bill Gates was not only the Antichrist but also the illegitimate spawn of Jesse Helms and Grace Slick.  (pg. 78)

    If you're looking for a beach read or airport novel, Nature Girl will do nicely.  There are lots of story threads involving a bunch of hapless characters plodding hopelessly towards their combined destinies on the not-so-deserted island of Dismal Key.  It does take a while to get all the parties heading there, and for me things dragged just a bit while this was happening.  But once everybody’s on their way, the pace picks up nicely.

  Storywise, I found it a bit too easy to guess where some of those destinies were heading, in particularly those involving Honey and her son, Fry, but maybe that's because I've quite a few books by this author.

    You should know that there’s no shortage of sex and cussing, so if these things offend you, you might give Nature Girl a pass.  But I'm happy to say I learned one phrase with which to insult someone with: “rectal ulcer”.

    7½ Stars.  Nature Girl is a solid effort by Carl Hiaasen, although I think some of his other books were more exciting and more zany.  Still, it kept my interest and it's easy-on-the-brain-cells, and sometimes that's all you ask for out of a book.