Amber J. Keyser

I'm reading a ton of graphic novels these days, and this is one that I really loved.  I've been fascinated by the story of Laika, the Russian cosmodog that electrified the space race before dying out there in the great beyond.  This fictionalized retelling breathes new life into this special dog and reminds us of the deep way she touched the lives of others.  

Like I said... love memoirs.  Try writing one in six words!  Enter here by April 15th.  Be pithily published!

I'm an unabashed memoir junkie and can adore biographies if they're done up right.  This one - a biography of Gregor Mendel - is fantastic.  Robin Marantz Henig creates a vivid portrait of a complicated man who dreamed of greatness, worked his tush off in obscurity, and died thumbing his nose at the local government.  All without a clue that nearly 100 years later he would be resurrected as the father of genetics.  It's a testament to tenacity and reminds us that "genius" is often mostly hard, careful work.  

Ever snubbed your nose at graphic novels?  Too low brow?  Too full of big-breasted bimbos?  Try this one...  imagine, if you can, a story of immigration.  The alienation and confusion of a new land overwhelms.  Longing for the old country and loved ones far away looms over every moment of scraping by.  Then imagine kindness finding you, family returning, and solace found.  Imagine "The Arrival" by Shaun Tan.  There is nothing cheap and tawdry here.

Just so you know... I did indeed finish The Book Thief and could (probably should) give it a post to itself so I can fawn over Zusak's evocative language and brilliant choice of narrator and POV.  However... I mentioned on my Facebook page that I couldn't stop reading Abhorsen by Garth Nix and a friend asked why.  He read the blurb on Amazon and thought it sounded like a run-of-the-mill fantasy series.  Opening caveat is that I have a split personality: I love some books because they appeal to the child-reader I used to be; I love others because they appeal to the grown-up me.  As a child, I loved (and still love) to read fantasy because good fantasy creates a world I can get lost in with characters I can love and it tells the classic hero's journey - a theme I never tire of.  However, I no longer have any interest in schlocky fantasy. 

So what makes The Abhorsen Trilogy rise far above mediocre?  First, the world Nix creates is logically consistent.  You might think that a fantasy writer can do whatever she wants, but in fact, once the general rules of the world are set, you are constrained by them. 

Second, the world is different yet familiar.  Nix invents many, many unique elements to his world, which is why it doesn't feel derivative (like Eragon or the Magic series).  Some examples: two distinct kinds of magic, a unique creation story, bells of power to fight the living Dead, the levels of Death and Dead beings...  This is not your average fantasy stuffed with elves, trolls, battle axes, prophecies, etc.  Yet the other part of my comment is that it is familiar.  Nix grounds the book in imagery we can grasp.  After I read these books the first time, I lustfully grabbed his next series, The Keys to the Kingdom.  And frankly, I didn't like it.  It was too far out there.  The creatures were too strange and inventive for me to picture. 

Third, Nix writes so visually that I can see everything like a movie in my head.  His pacing is fantastic so you don't want to stop reading and yet he writes so clearly that you don't get lost in complex battle scenes or spatial confusion.  He is not a wordsmth like Zusak, but he doesn't use cliches and he doesn't confuse me. 

Fourth, the characters in these books are flawed, three-dimensional, and loveable.  While The Amulet of Samarkand may be more well-written, I didn't like the characters enough to read any more of the series.  Ditto with Septimus Heap. 

Fifth, there's a deep order - perhaps I can say almost a theology - in Nix's world that resonates with me.  That, however, is far from writerly; it's purely personal.  

Confession: I had to take a break from reading The Book Thief by Markus Zusak.  I'm still absorbing the utter brilliance of writing a book narrated by Death.  But if Death is the narrator... you kind of know what's coming.  Like the old saw about the gun in Act 1, it just has to go off before curtain.  So in my brilliance, I pick a book I've already read, mind you, Sabriel by Garth Nix, as my "vacation" from The Book Thief.  Of course, Sabriel happens to be about... you guessed it, Death.  In this fantasy novel, Death is an eternal river flowing just beneath the surface of Life.  Abhorsen is the person who can walk in Death and return; she can bind the Dead to a final rest.  My conscious self may be a bit of a putz, but my unconscious has got it going on.  In The Book Thief, Death is coming and there is nothing you can do to stop it.  Like The Living
by Annie Dillard, time rolls on sweeping us along in birth, death, and more of the same.  Inexorable.  Unstoppable.  Perpetual.  And here I am... helplessly swept along.  The view in Sabriel is totally different.  Abhorsen can fight Death and subdue it.  A fantasy?  Probably.  But I'll take if for awhile. 

I'm an Oregon gal - a rain stomper in my own right - so I could relate to Jazmin in Addie Boswell's picture book The Rain Stomper.  I love Addie's writing because she always chooses just the right words - the ones that makes you snap your fingers or stomp your feet, words that paint colors and resonate with sound.  She gives the reader an entire experience: sight, sound, touch.  This is what the best writers try to do - create active language that jumps (or stomps) off the page.  Aren't I lucky to be in a critque group with Addie Boswell?! 

Follow this link to see an animated book trailer for The Rain Stomper. 

If you've read these books by Janet Lee Carey, perhaps you're wondering why I'm putting them together.  The Beast of Noor is my kind of fantasy novel about a shape-shifting boy trying to do right but getting caught up in his own power.  Wenny Has Wings is realistic middle-grade novel about a boy grieving the death of his sister through a series of letters that he has written to her.  In it, Carey captures grief spot-on and captured my heart along the way.  But they are together in this post because they sparked a realization in me that I write for "lost children" too.  At a recent conference, I heard Carey say that she started writing the Beast of Noor when her own son had run away and didn't want to be found.  The narrator of Wenny Has Wings and his dead twin are both lost children in their own ways.  I've always wanted to write, but the death of my daughter was what forced me to get started.  In the depths of my grief, I remember thinking that all I wanted to do was learn to play the guitar and write a book for my girl.  Five years later my first book was published - dedicated to my own lost child.  And the fantasy novel that I'm currently working on is written for my own lost child self - the lonely one who found herself in Tolkein and Le Guin and Lewis and Alexander.  Let's hope she doesn't have to wait too much longer to read it!

In my free and easy youth (when ample time abounded), I loved to wander the library or Powell's and pick books at random.  Some would be creme brule and some squashed twinkies, but I had time to waste on it all.  Now, I feel the pressure of always getting a blue-ribbon dessert and stick to mature things like reviewer's recommendations.  However, throwing caution to the wind, I grabbed this off the shelf.  Great title!  Good cover!  And I was still thinking of that girl who lost an arm surfing but was on the board again in short order.  What a fortuitous choice!  Kelly Bingham weaves news stories, poetry, crisp dialogue into an in-the-trenches portrait of grief.  Jane Arrowood adapts to life without an arm and to grieve the loss of her "old" life and all that she had imagined for her future.  Bingham gets grief spot on - so much of it is about the death of the life we anticipated living.  I am reminded that the moment is what we've got.  There's no telling what joy or sorrow tommorrow will bring.  But whatever arrives, humans are deeply resilient and story is a powerful agent for change.

So last night, our houseful of guests emptied out (22 for Thanksgiving), the kids snuggled into bed, and I claimed the couch with an eggnog & rum.  And Charlotte Doyle by Avi.  It's been a long time since I could read half a book in one sitting without interruption, and I'm glad it was this one!  All my favorite elements: heroine who does things that girls don't usually do, adventure, suspense...  And all with Avi's deft hand on the plot.  As mentioned before, I love a good story.  This tightly plotted tale has a perfect story arc.  Each thread comes together until the climatic scene and then it gets better!  I'm not saying more because I don't want to wreck it for you!  However, let my writer self add this thought:  Avi evokes the sounds, sights, smells, and feeling of being on the ship so vividly that I'm right there on the ratlines with Charlotte, the sea yawning below...  That's what really gives this book its sea legs.