Dark Water Daughter, by H.M. Long

Fantasy.  Adventure.  Mystery.  Magic.  Pirates.  Swords.  Ethereal creatures.  Cold AF weather.  

This book has it all.

Enter a strange and magical world of ghistings (ghost-like creatures who inhabit mystical forests), stormsingers (women whose voices have the power to conjure and calm storms on the seas), and swashbucklers (come on, you know this one).  

From the dust jacket:

Mary Firth is a Stormsinger: a woman whose voice can still hurricanes and shatter armadas. Faced with servitude to pirate lord Silvanus Lirr, Mary offers her skills to his arch-rival in exchange for protection - and, more importantly, his help sending Lirr to a watery grave. But her new ally has a vendetta of his own, and Mary's dreams are dark and full of ghistings, spectral creatures who inhabit the ancient forests of her homeland and the figureheads of ships.

Y'all, this book is weird.  And I liked it.  Despite some major lulls in the story, author H.M. Long creates an exciting world to lay the foundations for the first novel of The Winter Sea series.  Some of her characters are likable; some of them are deplorable; some of them fall in between; some you think you'll like/hate, but end up hating/liking.  Set on a series of islands in a frigid sea, the fantasy world Long has created recalls images of the northernmost islands of Scotland, Scandinavia, and even a few locations within the Arctic Circle.  It was a great winter read by the fireplace.

As I mentioned, there were a few major lulls in the story.  I finished it in January (roughly three and a half months ago, at the time of this writing) so, while I cannot recall specific dull points in the novel, I do remember finding it rather long in some parts.  Overall, the book did seem to drag more than I personally would have preferred, though I know that some people really get into the world-building thing.  There were also a few annoying tropes (e.g. What is Mary going to do in this precarious situation?  What about THIS one?  Oh yeah?  How about NOW?) that I felt really took away from the story's progression, but it wasn't bad enough for me to put the book down.  It was mostly just an annoyance until the next good part.

So, will I continue the series?  Sure.  It's not a top priority, per se, but I could see myself completing it.  Ultimately, I feel that any subsequent novels in the series would be better audio books for me.  That way, I can at least be doing dishes while I enjoy a good story in my ear.

2024 Wrap-Up: A record breaking 7-in-1 post

 I got lazy toward the end of 2024.  Part of it was that I had surgery in October, then still did all the usual year-end things...and I was just tired.  Being laid up, however, provided ample time for reading -- so read I did.  Because I am barraging you with seven new titles, I decided to group them by category.  You know how I love categories.

CHILDREN'S NOVELS

My daughter is always complaining about having "nothing to read" (false).  As a result, I have gone back into the deep recesses of my memory to dig up some of the books that I read and enjoyed around her age (give or take a couple of years).  Here are a couple that she read -and I re-read- in the final weeks of 2024.

Stepping on the Cracks, Mary Downing Hahn

I was fortunate as a child to have an older sister who was an avid reader.  This meant that she would often read books and then suggest the good ones to me, essentially weeding out the boring shit.  Stepping on the Cracks was one such "good book" that she recommended to me when we were kids.

The story is set stateside during WWII.  Two young girls -best friends Margaret and Elizabeth- both have older brothers fighting overseas, and know firsthand how war can affect a family.  Still, they are pre-teenage girls and war certainly doesn't occupy all of their thoughts.  In fact, the merciless sixth grade bully Gordy Smith and his cronies are more prevalent in their day-to-day lives.  In a scheme to exact revenge upon Gordy and his friends for their latest antics, Margaret and Elizabeth make a startling discovery that will change the way they think of their neighborhood as well as the world -and the war- around them.

Stepping on the Cracks is a simple but poignant coming-of-age story.  While most of us didn't live through WWII, we can relate to the youthful goings-on of the protagonists.  Re-reading this book as an adult was no less exciting, but certainly afforded me the opportunity to experience it through a different lens.  As an adult and a mom, I related to characters that I hadn't previously considered.  Well worth the re-read.

Cat Running, Zilpha Keatley Snyder

Another period-piece-lessons-learned novel that both my daughter and I enjoyed is Cat Running.  This story, set in California during the 1930s, features another sixth grade girl as the main protagonist.  Cat Kinsey is frustrated by her traditional parents -specifically her father- who will not allow her to "wear slacks" like the other girls at school.  It's not just the mandatory dresses that annoy Cat, but the fact that she is a very talented runner and wants so badly to defend her title in the school's annual running/track competition...but being unable to dress in a way that is conducive to her goals (and being a tweenage girl with an out-of-touch parent) makes that extremely difficult and frustrating.

As a salve to her rage, Cat discovers a strange little hideout in the rocky cliffs beyond her family's property.  As she sets up shop in her new secret place, she discovers that she is not the only one who frequents it...and a strange new friendship develops that might just change her life.  Fun, informative, and thought-provoking, Cat Running is a great story for the junior reader in your life.

MURDER MYSTERIES (A.K.A. "HOT DOG BOOKS")

Y'all, I'd be remiss if I didn't have at least one (or three) murder mysteries in my 7-in-1 post.  They need no introduction, so I'll just get started...

Miss Morton and the Deadly Inheritance, Catherine Lloyd

Devotees (ha!) will recall a series that I began in 2023: the Miss Morton books by Catherine Lloyd.  Deadly Inheritance is the third book in this series and follows the same format as the first two:  Miss Morton and the English House Party Murder and Miss Morton and the Spirits of the Underworld.  Honestly, I don't feel like it merits a full review because it's just the same formula.  It's predictable, fun, and I don't care what you say, I'm going to keep reading them.

Death Comes to the Village, Catherine Lloyd

Prior to the Miss Morton books, Catherine Lloyd penned a series of Death Comes to ____ books, featuring a practical, similarly minded leading lady:  Lucy Harrington.  Once again, "devotees" (double ha!) will recall that I began this series back in 2023, but unknowingly started with #3 of an eight book series.  (Previously read: #3 Death Comes to Kurland Hall and #4 Death Comes to the Fair.)  Since I've been doing a lot of hot dog reading in my convalescence (gearing up for another surgery next week...), I figured I ought to go back and start this series from the beginning with #1 Death Comes to the Village, and work my way through this series (skipping #3 and #4).  So far, same song and dance: fun, mindless, love mine with mustard and relish.

Vera Wong's Unsolicited Advice for Murderers, by Jesse Q. Sutanto

In a surprising turn of events, I left England's murdery countryside and landed in present day San Fran's Chinatown.  Stereotypical tiger mom Vera Wong runs a little tea house where nothing exciting happens...until one day, a man's body is discovered right in the middle of her shop.  Of course, the police department isn't up to snuff, so Vera must take over the investigation herself so that things will be done correctly.  As she continues her detective work, Vera finds herself cozying up to a laundry list of suspects, all people who knew the deceased.  What she doesn't expect is to find herself caring deeply for these people, their lives, and their well-being.

My husband and I listened to this book together (vs reading it in print) and, let me just say, we fully enjoyed it.  It was funny, suspenseful, and heartwarming -- a rare combination.  I would recommend Vera Wong to anyone who might enjoy a fun escape, particularly accompanied by a good cup of Chinese tea.  (Bonus:  Vera will be back in another novel set to release in March!)

MISCELLANEOUS (FANTASY + SHORT STORY)

The final two entries for this post fall into two separate categories.

Taliesin, by Stephen Lawhead

Last year, I listened to a Stephen Lawhead book In the Hall of the Dragon King.  It was OK, kinda contrived, not my favorite.  Still, I mentioned in that review how I wanted to try another couple of Lawhead's books/series, so I did.  Taliesin is the first in The Pendragon Cycle, a series featuring a cast of Arthurian characters.  

An epic build up to what is certain to be quite the universe, Taliesin spans perhaps an entire continent between Atlantis (a kingdom in its twilight) and a post-Roman Celtic world (that sounds a lot like Wales) that is on the rise.  Worlds collide, characters meet, years pass, and loved ones are lost or changed.  It's all the things that a fantasy prequel promise to be.  Nevertheless, I did find a lot of contrived action similar to that which I detailed in my review of Dragon King.  There were elements that were simply too forced for my liking, as well as a lot of "by the way" information crowded into the final chapters.  While it wasn't a bad read, per se, I will not be likely to pick up the second book in the series.  

The Turbulence Expert (from You Like It Darker), by Stephen King

My husband is a long time fan of Stephen King.  In fact, I believe he has read everything the guy has written.  (If not, it's pretty damn close.)  One of King's latest publications is a series of short stories in the book You Like It Darker.  

My husband hates flying; he hates heights.  As such, he related a great deal to the main character in the short story The Turbulence Expert from this collection and prompted me to read it, since I know these details about him.  Without divulging too much, the main character in the story shares my husband's fears, making him a perfect fit for a (fictional???) job as a "turbulence expert".  And that is all I'll say.  A fun and eerie read that will take you only a matter of minutes.

And that concludes 2024!  I've already made considerable progress in 2025 and am about to wrap my fourth book.  I will probably be back to review throughout the year, but I make no promises at this time!

HAPPY READING!!!

Unfinished Business: Books I did NOT complete

 It isn't often that I will start to read a book and make the decision not to complete it.  Even if it's not great writing or the characters suck, I'm too stubborn to put it aside.

Except that I did just this three times in the past few months:

A Play of Piety, by Margaret Frazer

After reading the first few chapters of this book, I was just. so. bored.  I wanted to like it.  I tried to like it.  I just couldn't get into it.  Furthermore, I was not remotely invested in the characters and, looking ahead, I happened upon a scene where a dog is killed.  It's a merciful death, but still sad.  Pass.

Jacob Have I Loved, by Katherine Paterson

This book started off strong.  Paterson's narration is both pleasing and easy to read.  I enjoyed her exposition through the pathetic first person narrator about things from seasons to food to jealousy.  However, about halfway through the book, one of the worst scenes I've encountered in literature presented itself.  This scene is graphic, inhumane, and abhorrent.  I found myself wishing I could strangle Paterson myself for putting these pictures in my head and now, without hesitation, I can say that I hate both her and her work.  And her main character -the one with whom readers are meant to empathize- is a spineless, brainless, piece of excrement.  No wonder everyone loves her sister and simply tolerates her.  She sucks.  HARD PASS.

Tales of King Arthur, by Sir Thomas Malory,
Edited and abridged with an introduction by Michael Senior

I've read a number of Arthurian legends.  I've known many of the stories for years and years but it wasn't until I was in a French literature class that I actually read my first original work.  We read Le Chevalier au Lion (The Knight with the Lion) by Chretien de Troyes.  On each two-page spread of the text were the old, original French (left page) and the updated, modern French (right page).  With a sort of dual-language book like this, we could not only read the story, but compare and contrast the current words with the original.  It was one of my first novels in French and that fact, coupled with the type of lyrical writing even of the modern translation, made reading the story of Sir Yvain as a knight errant rather cumbersome.  Nevertheless, we carried on.  I had also read -in both English and French- the story of Tristan et Yseut (Tristan and Isolde), along with numerous other adaptations of different stories of Arthur and his knights.

While I do love the adventures and the kickass stories themselves, after awhile, they start to drone on.  Malory is very very wordy, and his characters are quite flat.  For instance, Arthur is always perceived as a hero...even though he casts a ship full of babies out to sea, leaving them to die in case one of them is his repudiated son Mordred.  Sorry, Art, but that's not a redeemable act.  Merlin coerces a teenage girl into doing...things with him and, when the bill finally comes due (read: she enacts her own justice), she is the one painted as a villain while poor Merlin is victimized.  Barf.  Morgan le Fay is, as always, portrayed as a toxic malevolent when, let's get real, it was Arthur's birth father (Uther Pendragon) who killed her father, forced her mother to marry him, and then was a general asshole.  Maybe Morgan is nasty, but she's got her reasons.  All in all, the more I read of King Arthur, the more I tend to empathize/sympathize with the alleged bad guys.  You might say that the writings are "of their time", but I am also of my time.

This edition of Sir Thomas Malory's accounts is a great start for readers new to the Arthurian legends.  It's a challenging read, but simplified in order to appeal to a modern reader without having to do too much research or investigating.  In fact, that is exactly what Michael Senior (editor) intended: to create a loyal rendition of Malory's work that is also pleasing to read.  I would say he accomplished his mission; I just simply could not read the entire thing cover to cover without breaks to read other stuff.

Three books - each unfinished.  I have to remind myself when I pick up a book that I am under no obligation to finish it.  Sometimes, you just don't, and that's OK.  I've moved on since then, even finishing a couple of other books in the meantime.  Stay tuned for more reports on books that I have completed.

Witches, Witches, Everywhere! (A NEW 4-in-1 post)

Four books.  I'm writing about four books.  This is a new multiple book post record!  But I felt that these books were appropriate to put together as they all revolve around a similar theme.  Since we are approaching Halloween, what better time to talk about...

...witches!!!

Three of these four books are by the author Hester Fox, whom I mentioned in a previous post that included her 2023 novel The Last Heir to Blackwood Library.  After reading several more of her works, I can see that Ms. Fox most definitely follows a formula and, so far, always in the genre of gothic historical fiction.  While her stories are not what I would consider particularly highbrow, nor do they stick with you after the final page, they are certainly entertaining.  And sometimes, that's just what you need.  (Hot dog books, am I right?) If you go into one of her novels with this mindset, you might find yourself swept up in a dark, broody past, typically set in mid-19th century New England (Blackwood Library being the one exception among those that I've read thus far).

Anyway, the first of these witchy novels that I'd like to talk about today is Hester Fox's debut book:

The Witch of Willow Hall

After a series of damning rumors destroy the reputation of the Montrose family, sisters Catherine, Lydia, and Emeline -along with their parents- find themselves moving from Boston to the small town of New Oldbury, Massachussetts.  Set in the early 1820s, the Salem witch trials are a thing of the past...but not forgotten.  As Lydia (our main protagonist and first person narrator) begins to notice strange things around the country estate, things take a supernatural turn.  Lydia eventually discovers her family's dark secrets and scandals but, most of all, she learns that certain traits -and abilities- run in the family.

I hated how this book opened.  Like, HATED IT and almost refused to read it any further than the first few pages.  People who know me understand one thing very well:  I do not abide animal cruelty.  In any form.  I don't tolerate it in books, TV, movies, anything.  The animal can end up fine but, if you're a storyteller and you put an animal in distress, then I'm simply no longer interested in anything you have to say as a writer or as a human being.  As such, you can imagine my disappointment when the story opened by describing -in moderate detail- an event taking place where my favorite animal was killed.  While I understand Hester Fox's use of this event to illustrate the goodness in the main character (who absolutely loses her shit at this loss of a beloved pet), I do not appreciate it.  ONE HUNDRED THUMBS DOWN FOR THIS, MS. FOX!

In a very uncharacteristic act, I continued reading.  I don't know why I did, but I did so with caution.  I knew that if one more animal got hurt, I'd be done.  (That was it, by the way.)  However, the book was filled with a number of other triggers that, for people like me, can be quite problematic.  [At the risk of spoilers, readers beware:  A baby dies (possible miscarriage).  A child dies (actually, two kids die).  There are some mildly graphic mentions of hangings and house fires.  There is consensual incest.]

Ew.  Come to think of it, why did I like this book?

OK, so some weird and gross shit happens.  It was the 1800s, man!  People were weird AF!  But there was a lot of action in the book that did not fall under any of these categories and was not gross.  I just felt compelled to share some common triggers with y'all.

"It was the 80s, man!  I told you, the 80s was a wild place."

Personally, I love the theme of witchcraft.  When I say witchcraft, I'm not referring to the dark arts or sinister practices, rather to the idea of women asserting power when and where they can.  Imagine growing up in a world where you had no voice, your only purpose was to make a good match (hoping he wasn't an asshole), serve your husband, procreate, and keep it tight.  Your entire existence was subservient, reading novels was frowned upon and led to mental distraction, your appearance indicated your level of sanity (looking disheveled being the equivalent of insanity), and you were so tightly buttoned up -both literally and figuratively- that any misspoken word could destroy your reputation.  All this while your bones are being contorted in tiny, pointed shoes and your lung capacity diminished in disfiguring corsets.  It's no wonder we all got the vapors!

But there is something about witchcraft that reasserts a level of power.  Think about the symbols of witchcraft:  an understanding of nature and herbs (in a cauldron?) to heal and soothe, a broom to maintain cleanliness of a space, a cat to chase the mice away (still thinking hygiene, not to mention companionship), a connection to other women and their shared wisdom.  That's witchcraft.

Ultimately, it is this sort of witchcraft that is wielded in this book.  Generations of women, passing down their compassion, wisdom, and understanding to their daughters, granddaughters, and beyond.  Isn't that a lovely thought?

But yeah.  Some spooky and gross shit happens too.

A Lullaby for Witches

I'm just going to include the description for this book from it's Amazon page because I could do no better:

"Two women. A history of witchcraft. And a deep-rooted female power that sings across the centuries.

Once there was a young woman from a well-to-do New England family who never quite fit with the drawing rooms and parlors of her kin.  Called instead to the tangled woods and wild cliffs surrounding her family’s estate, Margaret Harlowe grew both stranger and more beautiful as she cultivated her uncanny power. Soon, whispers of “witch” dogged her footsteps, and Margaret’s power began to wind itself with the tendrils of something darker.

One hundred and fifty years later, Augusta Podos takes a dream job at Harlowe House, the historic home of a wealthy New England family that has been turned into a small museum in Tynemouth, Massachusetts. When Augusta stumbles across an oblique reference to a daughter of the Harlowes who has nearly been expunged from the historical record, the mystery is too intriguing to ignore.

But as she digs deeper, something sinister unfurls from its sleep, a dark power that binds one woman to the other across lines of blood and time. If Augusta can’t resist its allure, everything she knows and loves—including her very life—could be lost forever."

Unlike the witches in The Witch of Willow Hall, we encounter a darker force in the sequel-ish novel A Lullaby for Witches (also by Hester Fox).  Of the books I've read by this author (to date), this one is my least favorite.  The concept was intriguing, but the characters were bleh.  Ultimately, the plot felt contrived and the conclusion was forced.  I did like the main characters' connections to the Montrose family from The Witch of Willow Hall, but it fell short in most every other way.  In fact, it was so unmemorable that I'm done talking about it.

The Widow of Pale Harbor

In yet another novel by Hester Fox, we encounter the idea of witchcraft, but in a non-magic sort of way.  None of the characters in this book possess any actual powers, although rumors swirl in accusation of such wickedness.  

Set in the sleepy, idyllic town of Pale Harbor, Maine, we meet the newly bereaved Gabriel Stone, a widower intent on honoring his late wife's wishes of spreading the transcendentalist movement.  While Gabriel doesn't particularly believe in transcendentalism himself, his wife was passionate about it and, feeling a sense of guilt at her death (childbirth), he feels compelled to do something for her.  It's weird and far-reaching, but people do weird things for grief, I guess.

Meanwhile, the spooky, witchy widow Sophronia Carver ("She has a tail!") is living alone up at Castle Carver (not a castle, just a bigass house) with only three discreet servants to help her.  The entire town suspects Sophronia of having killed her late husband, a well-respected businessman and magazine editor, whose cosmopolitan appeal charmed the residents of the small town.

Remember how I said Hester Fox had a formula?  It applies here, too.  But please also remember what I said about that:  "While her stories are not what I would consider particularly highbrow, nor do they stick with you after the final page, they are certainly entertaining. [...]  If you go into one of her novels with this mindset, you might find yourself swept up in a dark, broody past, typically set in mid-19th century New England" (source: me).

Just like the premise for the character of Gabriel Stone, the entirety of this book is far-reaching from a critical standpoint.  But, these unbelievable prompts are what propel the plot (alliteration!) and allow for readers to be entertained.

Finally, in a deviation from Hester Fox, I have one more book about witches.

The Girl and the Witch's Garden

This final book centering on witches is nothing like the previous three.  In fact, this is a children's novel by author Erin Bowman.

When young Piper Peavey's father is diagnosed with cancer, she is sent to live with her estranged  mother and distant grandmother at the mysterious Mallory Estate.  Upon arriving, Piper learns that her mother has taken in a number of other children -all with magical abilities- while neglecting her own daughter.  Frustrated at her mother's apparent enthusiasm for her foster kids, Piper becomes hurt, jealous, and determined to figure out what is behind the strange happenings at Mallory Estate.

I was honestly drawn to this book by the cover art.  Isn't it charming?!?!?!?!  I love the illustration (especially the cat) and thought that my own daughter might enjoy the book, so I checked it out from our local library.  At the end of the story, she and I agreed: although it wasn't a particularly memorable read, it was (like those of Hester Fox) entertaining for the duration.  It's about the ride, right?

Clearly drawing from more classic children's literature (think: Harry Potter, The Secret Garden, etc.), The Girl and the Witch's Garden is a charming read, even for adults.  Themes of loss, grief, friendship, belonging, and family are all included in this story of the main character and her discoveries.  (Of note:  There are some potential triggers in this book as well including, but not limited to abuse, neglect, loss of a parent.)

Four different books, mostly enjoyable, all featuring something pertaining to witches.  Happy reading and HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

Graphic Novels for Kids: a 3-for-1 post!

 My son loves comic books and graphic novels.  In fact, he asks me to pick up new ones for him every time I go to the library (a couple times each month).  He doesn't really care what they're about, as long as "you think I'll like them".

Earlier this summer, I picked up three graphic novels I thought he'd enjoy...mainly because I thought that I would enjoy them.  And I did.  So, one at a time, and without further ado...

The Tea Dragon Festival, by K. O'Neill

I saw this book and was immediately in love with the illustrations.  The landscapes and use of color were so beautiful to me, and the little critters (called "tea dragons" -- look around the girl's feet) were cute AF.  I love tea.  I love critters.  I love this type of illustration.  Naturally, I needed to read this book.  

Touted as "a lovely, gentle fantasy" (Kirkus), it sounded like a calming, delightful sort of read that would be even more delightfully accompanied by the previously described images.  While it did deliver in both of these categories, I must confess, I was caught off guard by the whole notion of how "inclusive" it is.  Friends, it's woke.  

Maybe that's your thing.  Maybe it isn't.  It honestly annoyed me more than anything because I don't like pushing agendas of any kind on children, who are clearly this book's target audience.  While yes, the notion of gender fluidity did come up, it was mostly just in passing, and could be easily missed.  It was indeed forced and contrived (things that piss me off about writing in general), but it wasn't the primary theme of the story.  I cannot comment on how present these themes are in the other Tea Dragon books as I have not read those.  Unfortunately, I will not be likely to do so, due to the clear motives behind graphic novelist K. O'Neill.  Bummer.  I like tea, but this just isn't my cup of it.

Super Narwhal and Jelly Jolt (A Narwhal and Jelly Book, #2), by Ben Clanton

I love narwhals.  Maybe I don't say it enough but, from the moment I learned that they were real, actual creatures (!), I was smitten.  There is nothing I love more unda da sea.

Narwhal and Jelly books do not need to be read in order, so it was no problem that this was the first one that I picked up.  Unlike the previously discussed Tea Dragon books, Super Narwhal and Jelly Jolt pushes no agenda beyond having fun with your friends, using your imagination, and including others when you play.  In terms of inclusion, I personally believe this needs to be where we shift our focus when communicating these values to kids.  Regardless of your beliefs, I think we can all get on board with Narwhal and Jelly.

Wizkit: An Adventure Overdue, by Tanya J. Scott

A one-eyed cat who is learning to become a wizard?  YES PLEASE!!!! 

Wizkit, a lazy, bread-loving student of wizardry overhears sobbing in her house.  When she and her teacher discover an overdue library book that wants to be returned home, Wizkit and the book are sent on an adventure back to the library.  Along the way, they use their imaginations to fill the book's blank pages, solve problems they encounter, and meet new friends.  Wizkit learns the power of books, using your mind, and getting off your butt to create your own fun -- lessons we can all stand to learn!

Three new graphic novels for the kiddos.  No Pulitzer prizes here, just fun: plain and simple!

Elements of Cadence, a two part series by Rebecca Ross

 You guys know me by now, I think.  You know that I like fairytales, multi-faceted characters, elements of mystery, and -yes, I must confess- a drop of romance.  

Several months ago, one of my students paid me a great compliment: she recommended a book to me.  Yes, I know, anyone can recommend a book BUT, she recommended a book to me because she knows what I like and made her suggestion based on that.  What better compliment than to show that you know a person well enough than to offer them an adventure that is likely to please?

This student suggested that I read A River Enchanted, by Rebecca Ross.  At the time, I was not aware that this was the first in a duology.  It appears that both books were published in 2022, so I imagine they could be read like one great big mega book.  I listened to A River Enchanted on the Libby app and, upon discovering that it was the first of two, I immediately reserved the sequel, A Fire Endless.  So, some time lapsed between the two, but not enough for me to forget important plot elements.

Set on the fictitious island of Cadence, one can easily imagine this place as a far northern, remote location of Scotland.  In fact, the reader is Scottish (or at least reads with a Scottish accent, even during the book's credits), "the mainland" is often referenced, and the characters' plaids and kilts are frequently described.  "The Folk" (fairies/spirits) play huge roles throughout both of these novels, so they are -at the very least- inspired by Celtic legends and folktales.  And I love that.

We begin the story with Jack, a fatherless child of Cadence, whose mother had sent him to the mainland ten years prior to go to school and learn to become a bard.  In this time and place, a bard is a very prestigious position, reserved only for those who are very gifted in the art of song and storytelling.  Jack is summoned back home to Cadence -much to his chagrin- when he is around 20 years old.  Upon his return, we meet his family and the three other characters who will serve as the main ensemble for the rest of the duology: Adaira (heiress to the Tamarlaine clan lairdship), Torin (head guardsman, cousin of Adaira), and Sidra (talented healer, wife of Torin).  These four characters -Jack, Adaira, Torin, and Sidra- will continue to drive the plot for both books.  (Of no particular note: Sidra is my personal favorite.)

We also learn that the Isle of Cadence is split between two warring clans: the Tamarlaines in the East (clan to which our four protagonists belong) and the Breccans in the West.  The East has been blessed with bounty, light, and music, but they are often invaded by the West for their crops, livestock, and goods.  The West is a cold, desolate place where the people are hardened and desperate enough to invade the enemy territory in the East.  Still, the West has been gifted access to certain types of magic with little cost, rendering them all the more lethal to the East.

When Jack is summoned back to the East from the mainland, he soon learns the reason why.  Young Tamarlaine girls have begun disappearing and the heiress Adaira believes the spirits of the isle are behind it.  If nothing else, they might know why and where the girls are being taken.  But, in order to summon the spirits, a bard is required.  As the Tamarlaine clan has not had a bard since the death of Adaira's mother, the heiress is compelled to ask Jack to come back and sing for the spirits so that she can ask them for wisdom regarding the disappearance of the girls.  Reluctantly, Jack agrees to help.

Mysteries are solved.  Dark secrets are revealed.  Adventures are had.  It's a great fantasy read that incorporates so many of the things that I love about a good book and, as such, I would highly recommend the Elements of Cadence duology to anyone who is looking for a good escape.

Summer of the Sea Serpent, by Mary Pope Osborne

Clearly, I love to read.  Chances are, if you're reading this, you do too...or else you wouldn't be here, as I tend to get rather wordy.  The affinity that I feel for characters in books often surpasses that which I feel for people in reality.  I prefer to live in a fictional world with my "friends" than in reality about 90% of the time.  

A love for reading -be it for the same reasons as mine or not- is something that I hope to pass on to my kids.  A local library can take you places your bank account cannot.  Sure, it would always be better to travel to the Andes than to read about them, but we can't all afford that.  Yes, it's preferable to see the Louvre in person but, until you've saved up the thousands of dollars necessary to visit Paris, it ain't gonna happen.  Books give us a passport to the world - the one we actually inhabit, but also to the one of our imaginations.  And that is something that money can't buy.

Every once in a while, my kids will read a book that they later recommend to me.  So far, these suggestions have been easy reads, as Frick n Frack are still growing and developing as readers themselves.  But a book seeming "basic" is not grounds for dismissal.  Some of the greatest pieces of literature are the simplest ones.  More importantly, though, I always want to keep those lines of communication open with my kids, particularly when it comes to them sharing their lives, passions, and interests with me.  That is a gift.

Since they were wee sprouts, their grandma (my mom) has been reading the Magic Tree House series to my kids.  As they got older, they branched out further to read them independently.  It was one of these books that my son recommended that I read.  

An offshoot of the original Magic Tree House series, the Merlin Missions still feature the brother-sister main characters Jack and Annie.  Fans of Arthurian legend will appreciate the nods to Camelot with characters like Merlin and Morgan popping up here and there throughout the various series, all penned by Mary Pope Osborne.  Full of adventure, action, and riddles, young readers enjoy the ride alongside Jack, Annie, and their friends.  There is very little exposition, which allows the plot to move along at a quick clip.  For those of us used to reading classic literature, this is a welcome reprieve.  Adults can expect to read one of these books in maybe an hour(ish).  

While it may be easy to do so, I would caution against dismissing these books as easy.  At first glance, they certainly seem to be just that (remember the target audience!), but I would argue that they are quite thoughtfully crafted.  They introduce young readers to a broad array of highbrow literary themes, characters, history, and cultures.  To do so in a succinct way that appeals to children is nothing short of genius.  Hats off to Mary Pope Osborne for scratching the surface in ways that introduce kids to these concepts, inviting them to dive deeper into the topics that interest them.

When my son asked me to read Summer of the Sea Serpent after he had finished it, I was touched.  Not only was he asking me to share an experience with him, it gave us something to discuss, a topic that interested him.  I am honored that he wanted to share that with me and look forward to all future recommendations from my kids...even if they are not books that I would likely pick up on my own.

Percy Jackson: The Lightning Thief, by Rick Riordan

Guys, you've heard me talk about Greek mythology before.

Hark back with me to 2005.  I was in college when a new young adult series was making its way onto the literary scene.  While I was indeed wrapped up in the then-contemporary world of Harry Potter, teenage wizard of great renown, a new series about some middle schooler learning he was half Greek deity was a touch "young" for my liking.  (OK, I didn't feel like I was above it, per se, just not particularly interested at that time.)  Anyway, I'd heard of them, but never bothered to pick up any of the Percy Jackson books.

Fast forward to February of 2023.  For about three years, my family had purchased season passes to our local children's theater, where stage adaptations of books are very common.  That winter, we saw a production of The Lightning Thief: The Percy Jackson Musical.  For whatever reason, this particular performance really sparked an interest in Greek mythology for my kids, especially for my daughter.  After the show, we went to a nearby Starbucks, got our favorite drinks, and talked about the musical.  It was at that point that I began telling my kids all the stories I recalled loving in my childhood and adolescence: epic mortal adventures, family feuds among the Olympians followed by unity when facing the Titans, their common enemy.  My kids sat, rapt with attention, listening to my every word, asking intelligent questions, impressed with their mother's vast knowledge (it isn't) of such a badass topic.  It was an historic event, like a comet that appears every 200 years.  Even my husband was into it.  It was a special moment in my life that I will never forget.

Anyway, as you know, we continue to be a mythology loving crew.  Later in 2023, when Disney+ came out with a new Percy Jackson series, my daughter got really into it, and so did I, by extension.  (Seriously, I felt like it was very well done.)  Soon after, her class had a unit on mythology at school, and she dominated it, knowing far more than even her teacher.  So, I felt like maybe I ought to pick up this book and read it myself.

I already knew the story, having seen a few different renderings of it on the stage and the screen.  I have a pre-established knowledge and understanding of the "who's who" in Greek mythology, and certainly a predilection for it.  The book did not disappoint!  It was great fun for me from start to finish, even knowing how it would end.  (On that note, may I just reiterate the quality of the Disney+ series?  Sure, they may have changed a couple of things and the cast doesn't always match the physical descriptions of the characters in the book, but it really captures the spirit of the novel.)

Without giving too much away, the first of the Percy Jackson series introduces us to to the titular character.  A young tween living in New York, Percy is the son of Sally Jackson and [question mark].  Percy struggles with a number of things including dyslexia and ADHD, although the reasons for these are later explained to him.  He has bounced around between schools for as long as he can remember, always getting into trouble, despite trying his best to avoid it.  When unexplained phenomena begin occurring at his current school, things take a new turn that even Percy couldn't have imagined.  Upon learning that he is a "half-blood" (a demigod: half human, half Greek god), the world of mortals becomes so dangerous for him that he ends up moving to a special place for kids like him.  Camp Half-Blood is a training facility and home for (wait for it) half-bloods, that is safeguarded against the particular sorts of mythological monsters bent on destroying the mortal children of the Olympians.

But even Camp Half-Blood can't protect him forever.  Inter-Olympian struggles are brewing that threaten the entire planet, and Percy's very existence lies at the heart of it.  Along with friends -new and old- Percy is destined to set things to rights.  In so doing, he learns the identity of his father and discovers an entirely new side of himself.  It's a great coming-of-age sort of adventure, fun for kids and adults alike...

...especially for the mythology-loving nerds among us.

Norse Mythology, by Neil Gaiman

Do you remember how much I love mythology?  Of course you do.  You're my number one fan.

But I'll recap:  I fell in love with Greek mythology as a young child when my babysitter brought over this book.  In fact, my sister and I loved it so much that it became part of our regular routine to read Greek mythology when this particular babysitter came over on the occasional Friday night.  I, for one, was smitten with the imagery and the stories of all the weirdos, human and deity alike.

This love didn't fade with age.  In fact, I found myself gleefully anticipating any English class in middle school, high school, and college that incorporated the classics.  It is a love that I have been able to pass along to my own kids, who share my enthusiasm for stories of heroes, Titans, and Olympians.

In more recent years, I have cast my net wider to include mythology from other parts of the world.  Among these are the legendary Norse gods, like those I mentioned from this book.  As previously stated, this pantheon of goons is slightly more likeable than their Olympian counterparts...and certainly sillier.  If the Olympians are your self-aggrandizing, prone to violence, and unstable relative, then the Aesir/Vanir are your abrasive, crass, obnoxious -but sort of well-meaning- drunk uncle.

Long before I picked up any anthology on the myths of Scandinavia, a particular book loomed on my "to read" list:  Norse Mythology, by Neil Gaiman.  I finally got around to reading it.

Most people know that Neil Gaiman is a successful writer of great acclaim (Coraline, Stardust, Good Omens, among others).  Indeed, he is also an artful storyteller, compiling the myths and legends of the Norse pantheon into one fluid narrative.  Norse Mythology is written so that it can be read like a novel with, more or less, a chronology that is easy to follow.  This flow lends a continuity to the stories that is otherwise lost when they are read serially or at random.  For a Type A personality like mine, this is a gem, and it makes this particular publication ideal for those who are new(ish) to Norse mythology.  We begin with Yggdrasil (the World Tree) and the nine worlds; we end with Ragnarok, the prophesied apocalyptic event that leads to the fall of Valhalla and the end of the Norse gods.  In between are the stories of the Aesir and the Vanir along with their (mis)adventures among the Jotun and the dwarves.

It's tremendous fun.

I happened to listen to this book rather than read it.  Listeners are in luck, as Gaiman narrates the book himself.  I typically appreciate it when an author narrates his/her own work as it really preserves the writer's voice in a way that might be lost in translation with a different reader.  Whether you read it or listen to it, Gaiman's voice is present throughout in a playful way, particularly in his telling of the story of Loki at Skadi's wedding.  Tasked with making the bride (Skadi) laugh, Loki does one of the dumbest things imaginable: he ties his balls to the beard of a goat.  It goes about how you think it would go and, yes, Skadi laughs.  (As do we all, Skadi.  As do we all.)  Incidentally, the D'Aulaires deftly skirt this more graphic story in their Book of Norse Myths by simply stating that Loki "tied himself to its [the goat's] beard".  There is no mention of genitalia, making this version more suitable for younger children...although mine roared with laughter at the mention of Loki's twig and berries.

Norse Mythology is an excellent retelling of some of the greatest stories to transcend time.  Neil Gaiman certainly doesn't disappoint as he calls upon readers to make the stories their own by retelling them to those who would listen.  (What a lovely thought!)  My one and only complaint about his retelling of Norse myths is that Gaiman doesn't spend nearly enough time on Freya's cats.  I can only assume he is presently working on the sequel, detailing the importance of these majestic floofs.

D'Aulaires' Book of Norse Myths, by Ingri and Edgar Parin D'Aulaire

NOTE:  I wrote this post MONTHS ago but, for some reason, it never got published.  So, I suppose it makes sense in tandem with the review that I am presently writing on Neil Gaiman's Norse Mythology.

Hooray!  It finally arrived!

Returning readers may recall (Ooo!  Alliteration!) my deep and abiding love for Greek mythology, owed almost entirely to a childhood babysitter and this book that I wrote about back in April (2023):

When I finally purchased my own copy -decades later in life- I learned that the D'Aulaires had co-written/illustrated even more world myths.  While I have a solid handle on Greek mythology, I do enjoy branching out and learning about the legends, folklore, myths, and fairy tales that come from other parts of the world.  Over the years, I have enjoyed a vague familiarity with Norse mythology, but I haven't spent nearly as much time with the pantheon of old-timey Scandinavia.

Until now.

No matter which way you look at it, the Olympians of ancient Greece are assholes.  Truly.  There isn't one among them without the stain of atrocity on his/her sleeve.  They are absolute train wrecks.  Imagine your most unstable relative - you know, the one who always blows up at holiday celebrations and ends up yelling at the kids.  Now imagine that relative is immortal and has unlimited power and drinks too much and exists in a dozen different beings.

Welcome to Mount Olympus.

The Norse gods are, for all their faults, slightly different.  They have immensely long lives, but know that their days are numbered.  They are discombobulated, unorganized, misogynistic (although somewhat less so than their Greek counterparts), and waaaay too into war (Excuse me, sir, do you have time to talk about Valhalla?), but they know that Ragnarok is pending and they want to get their shit together before it comes.  

Like their Olympian cousins, however, the Aesir are one hot mess.  (And so are the Vanir -a separate but related tribe/grouping of Norse gods- although I'd argue they are nutters to a moderately lesser degree.)  They fight with and deceive one another, but they share an overall goal for themselves and vision for humanity.  They seem a little more human than the Olympians, even though they are sometimes actual animals/monsters (literally -not figuratively- speaking).

From the entirety of both the Greek and Norse pantheons, however, one deity rises high above the rest.  Say what you will about her "profession" as the Norse goddess of love, beauty, fertility (also war, death, magic, lust, gold, according to other sources), Freya is BY FAR THE BEST OF THE BEST.  Here is why:

Do you see that?  In case you missed it, let me point it out again:

OK, one more time, just to be sure (Freya is just to the right of center):

Freya seems to be almost synonymous with HER CATS.  For this reason -and this reason alone- I want her to be my best friend.  Why is she always depicted with cats?  Scroll back up to the first image and you'll see something that only a divine being could do.  Freya's chariot/sled is pulled by cats.  Not huskies, not horses, not reindeer or donkeys or even Thor's famed goats.  Cats.  Say it again with me:  CATS.  The best part is that this isn't even the D'Aulaires taking some artistic license.  Since her inception, this honorary Aesir (originally one of the Vanir) has been chauffeured by cats.  Google it.

Loki is weird.  Thor is hilariously oafish.  Odin thinks he's sneaky (he's not).  No doubt about it, this pile of goons and faulty deities are laughable and wonderful in their own right.  I'm not sure who would win in a battle of the Olympians versus the Aesir (+/- Vanir), but I do know one thing:  Freya and her cats will ALWAYS win in my book.  And my kids agree, because science has indisputably proven the following:

Cats > Everything else

In the Hall of the Dragon King, by Stephen R. Lawhead

I'm a big nerd.

I know this must be coming as quite a shock to you, but I've never been cool.  Not once in my life.  Just ask my kids.  

This nerditude extends to literary genres, too.  I know I've told you that I'm a sucker for period piece murder mysteries, but I also have a heart for fantasy fiction as well.  (And, apparently, accidental alliteration.)  It likely stems from a childhood love of fairy tales and mythology that grew to include wizarding worlds and Middle Earth in my adolescence.  But it has been a long time since I've read a book with that sort of magic.

A friend of ours recently recommended the author Stephen R. Lawhead for some of his historical fiction -- another favorite genre.  I'd never heard of Lawhead, but the guy sure is prolific!  Of particular interest (to me) are his Pendragon Cycle (love a good Arthurian legend!), Eirlandia (I have a weakness for the Emerald Isle), and Byzantium. (Spanning Ireland to modern-day Turkey, this epic covers lots of points and places of personal interest: I'm 50% Middle Eastern, with the remaining 50% being mostly split between ancient Celtic and Norse lands.)

After learning more about this author, I figured I'd give one of his works a shot, and decided to do so in audio format.  Unfortunately, the selection was limited; none of the series/novels listed above were available.  In fact, there were only a couple of options and, of those, I would have had to start with the second book in a series.  There was only one possibility to start at the beginning of a series, and that one was a fantasy series written for young adults:  In the Hall of the Dragon King, the first book of The Dragon King trilogy.

No matter.  I'm not above YA fiction.  Sometimes, I think it's even better, especially when it comes to fantasy fiction.  With YA novels, there is a tendency to focus more on the story and less on, say, 75 pages describing a type of hobbit tobacco.  (I'm looking at you, Tolkien, you longwinded bore.)

With the excitement of starting a new novel -one of a beloved genre that I hadn't touched in years!- I dove right in.  And it didn't take long to get right into the action.  But there was a bit of a surprise that, while not bad per se, kinda took me out of it.

Fully recognizing the irony of my own wordiness (I know, Tolkien!  Quit judging me!), I'm going to deviate a bit from this review to tell you a little story.  Travel back in time with me to the early 2000s... [Insert chimes, wavy lines, blurry camera]

I was in college. A group of guy friends invited a group of girl friends that I was hanging out with at the time over to their house to watch Braveheart.  (The movie selection tells you right away that this particular group of guys was not in the habit of hanging out with girls, but we accepted.)  Up until this point, I had never actually seen Braveheart in its entirety, only catching scenes and snippets here and there.  Ever the nerd, I was actually pumped about watching this movie.  We dimmed the lights, crunched on popcorn, and watched William Wallace defend Scotland and fall in love.  But then that monstrous king and his goons came and raided the village.  They exacted their revenge on WW by killing his secret wife since she had not made herself available for Prima Nocta, and also because they were assholes.  WHAT?!?!?!?!  HOW COULD THIS BE?  WHAT WILL MEL GIBSON DO ABOUT IT BECAUSE WE ALL KNOW HE IS NOT THE TYPE TO TAKE THIS LYING DOWN AND WHAT THE HELL, JOSH, WHY ARE YOU STOPPING THE MOVIE?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

Actual footage of me when Josh stopped the movie. 
(I've changed my hair and shaved my beard since college.)

Just as our protagonist was being thrust into the hardship that would lead him to greatness, Josh, the guy who had set up our little movie party, stopped the movie.  Why?  Well, he wanted to know if we, like William Wallace, had ever faced hardship in our lives, and how God surprised us with His wisdom and blessings.

Well, Josh, I was a (roughly) 19-year-old girl.  So um, no.  Not really.  I couldn't particularly relate to William Wallace in this story.  To be honest, my husband (whom I wouldn't even meet for another few years) never had to face some monarchical prick who wanted to deflower him on our wedding night, under threat of death.  Also, as I'm not trying to save 13th century Scotland, I cannot particularly relate to my hometown being raided by feudal thugs.  But what YOU'RE doing right now seems a little despotic.  So, I guess there's THAT...

We never finished Braveheart that night because Josh wanted to talk about God.  The whole thing was orchestrated as a secret, surprise Bible study, which would have been fine had it not been a sneak attack.  I went home, feeling played and disappointed that I'd have to walk to Blockbuster that night to rent the movie -on VHS or DVD, depending on which format was available- if I ever wanted to find out how Mel handled the death of his lovely Scottish bride.

Stephen R. Lawhead kinda pulled a Josh on me with In the Hall of the Dragon King.  I was expecting some thrilling fantasy ride (more on that in a minute), but he surprised me with semi-religious fiction.  To be clear: I do not mind allegorical writing inspired by faith or religion.  I just prefer to see it so skillfully done that it doesn't seem cheap.  Or even just not to be surprised by it.  My opinion is that it was rather forced in Dragon King; it caught me off guard and took me out of the story.  

Speaking of the story -the real reason we're here- it is clear whence Lawhead derives inspiration (apart from the Bible).  A coming-of-age novel in which a young protagonist embarks upon a heroic quest, it's a tale as old as time, which isn't necessarily a bad thing!  A narrative theme that is almost synonymous with the birth of storytelling itself, the hero's quest continues to be fan favorite.  Gilgamesh did it; Odysseus did it; Beowulf did it; Frodo did it; Bilbo did it; Luke Skywalker did it; the Pevensie kids did it; Aerin did it; Harry Crewe did it; Harry Potter did it; Eragon did it; Roland Deschain did it; Percy Jackson did it; Dorothy did it; Indiana Jones did it...hell, even Littlefoot did it!

Littlefoot and Roland Deschain...same character?  I think so.

In Dragon King, our protagonist is named Quentin.  An awkward teenage boy training to be a monk in a polytheistic society, Quentin often feels ill at ease, as though he is in the wrong place.  As an orphan, he doesn't have many choices in life and, because he gets along with the other monks in the monastery, he doesn't exactly question his being there...only knows that something's off.  When an injured knight of shows up one day at the monastery with grave news, Quentin knows immediately that he must help.  What that help will actually entail, he will later learn.  For now, he knows his help is required to save the king from the machinations of his wicked brother, Prince Jaspin, and the evil sorcerer Nimrood.

Along the way, Quentin meets a hermit, a disgraced (but good) knight, the queen, a deerlike boy of the forest, and dozens of others - both good and bad.  It is on his quest to save the king that Quentin learns about the physical and metaphysical world around him, but also about himself.

Truth be told, the story is quite predictable, as most stories of this genre are.  I mean, we all know that the hero will complete his/her quest at the end of the story, right?  It's about the ride!  Dragon King sort of delivered in this area, but I never found myself quite invested enough in the story or the characters to really care that much.

In the Hall of the Dragon King is certainly not a worthless read, although it isn't exactly how I would define the word epic.  It was tepid.  Maybe I'm jaded; maybe I just really got taken out of the story by the element of a surprise Bible study; maybe it was because of the very heavy Lord of the Rings influences.  (That has been done before!!!  SO MANY TIMES!!!!)  I just was mostly indifferent.  While I have no plans to read the other two books in the trilogy, I still have every intention of checking out some of Lawhead's other works.  But now I'll know not to be taken aback by any sudden religiosity.

The Blue Sword, by Robin McKinley

Earlier this summer, I re-read The Hero and the Crown, a story with which I had fallen in love in my early adolescence.  Aerin, Tor, Luthe, and Maur had remained deeply burned in my brain for decades, and my second reading of Robin McKinley's fantasy novel lived up to the memory.  After 25+ years of meaning to read its sequel, I finally got around to it.

Set 500ish years after the events of The Hero and the Crown (published 1984), The Blue Sword (published 1982) actually predates its prequel in reality.  Having read them in chronological order (versus in their order of publication), I was fully aware of the adventures of Aerin in Damar of old.  I think this served me well by giving me context for many of the actions of the characters, though I did wonder what it would be like reading these in the opposite order at the times of their respective publications.  While Aerin appears rather enigmatically as a sort of shade or "Force ghost" throughout The Blue Sword, this is the story of Angharad "Harry" Crewe, the penniless, orphan girl (young woman) who is sent to live in a remote colony in the fictional land of Damar.  

[For a more complete synopsis, click here.]

While McKinley openly admits that this novel was influenced by works such as Kipling's The Man Who Would Be King and Edith Maud Hull's The Sheik, it appears to me as quite the mash-up of Wild West meets British colonialism of India (+/- Pakistan, Afghanistan, various others "-istans" as evidenced by the book's colonial outpost town Istan) meets fantastical wizard villains of Lord of the Rings meets The Last of the Mohicans and peppered with a touch of Star Wars.  There is a lot packed into 272 pages (Puffin Books): romance, societal norms, the ethics of colonialism, war, fantasy, Stockholm syndrome, desert landscapes, old timey frontier stuff, nomads living in tents, ancient cities and civilizations, legends being reality, mistaken and hidden identities and familial ties, magic weaponry...

Speaking of magic weaponry, let's talk about Gonturan, the Blue Sword herself!  Although the Damar of old has long since lost the wars against the invading Homelanders and its people have scattered to the four winds, the free Hillfolk (Damarians who now live in the hills and mountains under the rule of King Corlath) have managed to keep hold of their most prized treasure.  This legendary sword can only be wielded by a woman, and has remained essentially dormant for centuries.  In fact, Gonturan hasn't been used in battle since Lady Aerin of generations past.  While Gonturan is indeed a very badass piece of metal, she (the sword is a girl) is something of a sonic screwdriver, in that she gets those who brandish her for good out of trouble with surprisingly little preparation and talent.  The same can be said for kelar, the magical sort of sense that runs through people of Damar, most notably so in the royal family.  Both Gonturan and kelar come unexpectedly and suddenly to otherwise unpracticed protagonists.  Sometimes this is useful and I appreciate it in adventure lit; I loathe long, drawn out battle scenes where Yes!  We know the good guy is going to win!  Why in God's name does it need to take 70 pages to tell us that?!?!?!?!  Other times, it just seems cringey and anticlimactic.  

I felt both elation and disappointment in how McKinley handled this in The Blue Sword.  On the one hand, the major climax of the book was something of a letdown.  On the other, I simply love how her battle scenes aren't necessarily always the actual climax.  There is certainly plenty of action and adventure in her novels, but they are equally -perhaps more so- about the characters.  I value a writer who can tell an epic story without being overly extraneous while still balancing the details.

Perhaps the star of the novel is Narknon, the folstza - one of the wild cats of ancient Damar.  These large cats joined up with Aerin (at the same time as the yerigs, Damarian wild dogs) in her adventures in The Hero and the Crown.  Evidently, these wild critters stuck around for centuries and eventually became somewhat domesticated.  They come and go as they please among the Damarians and Hillfolk, occasionally bestowing their favor on a particular person or group of people.  Narknon, the finicky folstza, grants Harry her affection early on in the novel, and remains a vital source of strength and comfort for our heroine throughout.  (Don't worry, Narknon never gets hurt.)  A ruthless hunter and fierce warrior, Narknon is also "a champion purrer". 

With the exception of Narknon, however, The Blue Sword just doesn't live up to its prequel The Hero and the Crown.  Since The Blue Sword came first, I'm not sure if Robin McKinley just refined her craft by the time of The Hero and the Crown's publication but, when it comes right down to it, Aerin's story is just more interesting and epic than Harry's.  The Blue Sword often felt contrived and predictable to me, where The Hero and the Crown was somewhat less so.  (Sure, it had moments, but it wouldn't have been called The Hero and the Crown if Aerin had lost, right?)  I also found that it took longer to get into The Blue Sword, as it moved somewhat more slowly.  At the end of the day, it was a fun read -precisely what I was looking for- and I would recommend it to fans of fantasy fiction.  However, if you had to pick one or the other of McKinley's stories of Damar, The Hero and the Crown is by far the better choice of the two.

Odysseus in the Serpent Maze, by Jane Yolen & Robert J. Harris

Here I am again, returned to one of my original themes, one of the themes that first ignited, and later kindled, my love of stories as I made the slow, steady transition from childhood to adolescence:  Greek mythology.

But it isn't my adolescence that we're going to discuss, rather that of Odysseus and his (future) wife, Penelope; that of his lifelong best friend and behind-the-scenes protector, Mentor; that of Helen of Sparta (later "of Troy"); that of Idomeneus, prince (later king) of Crete.  In a reimagining of the younger years of arguably the final true hero of ancient Greece's "Age of Heroes", wily Odysseus and his friends set off on a series of accidental adventures that will shape the remainders of their (already fictitious) lives.  Powerhouse Jane Yolen (The Devil's Arithmetic, How Do Dinosaurs...?, Owl Moon, Children of the Wolf, and hundreds more that you probably read growing up) and author Robert J. Harris (Artie Conan Doyle Mysteries, The World Goes Loki series, Young Legends, Young Heroes), team up for Odysseus in the Serpent Maze by taking all we know about the Ithacan king's famed life on the ancient Mediterranean and rewinding the story to his early teenage years.  

We begin with Prince Odysseus and his pal Mentor getting lost at sea on their way home to Ithaca after a visit with Odysseus's grandfather, Autolycus.  After being adrift for days, they are picked up by pirates, who are holding two important captives aboard their ship:  Princess Helen of Sparta and her cousin, Penelope.  The famous foursome spend the rest of the novel making their way home, but certainly not easily.  Without too many spoilers, fans of Greek mythology will be pleased to see some old friends, including the irresistible sirens, the genius Daedalus and his apprentice Praxios, King Deucalion (son of King Minos of Labyrinth and Minotaur fame), the goddess Athena, Silenus the satyr, the monstrous serpent Ladon, along with the "wine-dark sea"* and "dawn" with her "rosy fingers"* (*taken directly from Homer's Odyssey).

It was, once again, my daughter who requested commanded me to read this book after getting a free copy of it to keep from her school library.  Copyrighted in 2001 (2000 say some sources?), I later learned that this is the first of the collaborative efforts between Yolen and Harris on ancient Greek heroes.  Their Young Heroes series includes a number of famous Greek protagonists:  Hippolyta and the Curse of the Amazons, Atalanta and the Arcadian Beast, Jason and the Gorgon's Blood.  Being quite the fan of Atalanta herself, I may have to recommend these to my Greek mythology-loving daughter!  Regardless, Yolen and Harris do a lovely job of humanizing the characters in Odysseus in the Serpent Maze.  More often than not, it is easy to forget that the characters of the ancient world were, first and foremost, humans (or, at the very least, created by humans).  The heroes of old were not always heroes; they were children first.  And, despite Odysseus's hatred of being referred to as a "boy" in this book, at age 13, he totally is.

Fun, accessible, and clearly crafted with love and acknowledgment of the original myths, Odysseus in the Serpent Maze is simply an enjoyable read for fans -young and old- of Greek mythology.

Lego Ninjago: Spinjitzu Brothers Series, by Tracey West

Jump up, kick back, whip around, and spin!  NINJAGO!  NINJAGO!

Any parent whose kids have ever watched this program will immediately recognize those lyrics and probably even be able to sing along to the rest of the show's theme song.  My kids first discovered Ninjago for themselves maybe four or five years ago and, to be honest, their dad and I enjoy it nearly as much as they do.  That's why, when my daughter recommended that I read her "Ninjago chapter books", it was easy for me to accept the challenge.

There are, to date, four books in the Lego Ninjago: Spinjitzu Brothers series, all of which are penned by author Tracey West.  They are as follows:

1. The Curse of the Cat-Eye Jewel
2. The Lair of Tanabrax
3. The Maze of the Sphinx
4. The Chroma's Clutches

Each book in the series begins with our favorite ninja (Kai, Cole, Zane, Jay, Nya, and Lloyd) on official ninja business under the guidance of their master, Sensei Wu.  From this framing narrative at the start of every installment, Wu encounters something that reminds him of a past adventure with his brother, Garmadon -- before Garmadon became an ultimate villain.  Be it a village puppet show or his eyes playing tricks on him in an art museum, Wu has a tale to tell because, as devotees will tell you, Wu has seen some shit.

Those of us who have seen enough of the show to know what constitutes "Ninjago canon" can enjoy this prequel series that fills in the gaps of growing up as the two sons of the First Spinjitzu Master.  (Holy hell, I am a nerd.)  Garmadon and Wu are sent out on a journey by their father to find "a special tea plant that may help purify Garmadon" after he was bitten by a wicked snake whose venom then infected his very soul.  Linked together, the books form an over-arching plot for Wu and Garmadon as they seek to find this cure-all tea, but they could certainly be read out of order.

Fun, simple, and at a maximum of 130ish pages (including pictures and large print), these are great little "brainless" reads for any adult (or child, in most cases).  I have read a couple of them in a single sitting, often as I wait for something (ex: kids at the trampoline park, something to read in anticipation of a hold arriving at my local library branch, etc.).  Best of all, my daughter enjoys them, and reading these allows me to share in the joy of conversing with her about something she loves.

My good friend Internet tells me that a fifth one will be released later in 2023, entitled Tea Time Terror, but Internet isn't always to be relied upon.  Still, whenever Number Five comes out, there's more than a solid chance we'll read it.