5. "Sharp Teeth" by Toby Barlow

Toby Barlow tackles the werewolf legend in Sharp Teeth, a novel-in-verse. While the plot coalesces somewhat slowly, the characters are compelling: a compassionate dog-catcher, a weary cop, and various members of the three werewolf packs prowling and plotting in the greater Los Angeles area.

There's a level of brutality in the book that can be difficult to take, especially in descriptions of dogfights and the cruelty perpetrated by some of the dogcatchers. But there's also a strong sense of vengeance toward those who exploit animals, exhaustion at the harshness of life, and hope and possibility. Barlow's poetry sometimes reaches eloquence, and I have to admit to misty eyes at the end.

4. "Last Watch" by Sergei Lukyanenko

Sergei Lukyanenko concludes his "Day Watch" series with Last Watch. Like the previous novels, this one consists of a mini-trilogy, three connected stories that contribute to a larger narrative. 

Anton Gorodetsky, our narrator and a Higher Magician on Moscow's Day Watch, travels to Edinburgh, Scotland, to investigate the murder of a young Russian man by what appears to be a vampire. Sent by Gesar, head of the Day Watch, Anton is surprised and wary to also receive offers of help from Zabulon, head of Moscow's Night Watch. When Anton arrives in Edinburgh, he discovers a complex conspiracy formed by a Light One, a Dark One, and a Higher Vamipre, who are seeking to find and use a spell created by Merlin. Not only are they willing to shed blood, but if they unleash the spell, they have the potential to destroy all Others (those with magic powers and/or natures). 

As usual, the world of the Others fails to fall into simple Light/Dark, Good/Bad binaries. Anton struggles with his own sometimes ruthless boss, as well as his compassion for human beings and his protective instincts as a father and husband. A foray to Uzbekistan adds a somewhat exotic flavor to the tale and fleshes out the character of Gesar more comprehensively. 

This may not be the best entry in the series--I think the first novel, Day Watch, was the strongest--but it's an entertaining and essential read for fans of the previous books. For anyone who hasn't read the earlier novels, though, I'd advise doing so before tackling this one.

3. "Monster" by A. Lee Martinez

In A. Lee Martinez' Monster, Monster Dionysus works as an animal control agent, sort of--he handles cryptobiological nuisances, and he prefers the night shift. When he's finished, he goes home to his girlfriend Liz, a succubus who leaves a sulfur smell on his clothes and scorches things around the house when she gets upset. Every time he wakes up, his skin is a different color, courtesy of a basilisk bite that also left him immune to cryptobiological venom.

One night, Monster encounters Judy, a supermarket clerk facing an influx of yeti. Not long after, he encounters Judy again, this time because trolls seem to be proliferating in her closet. Monster doesn't like Judy, and Judy doesn't like him, but they keep encountering each other because of the odd mystical animals that crop up wherever Judy does.

Meanwhile, an old woman named Mrs. Lotus keeps feeding her neighbors a special tea that turns them into cats. Mrs. Lotus knows that the universe has a special plan for Judy, and it's a plan Mrs. Lotus not only intends to thwart, but must thwart if she is to continue her own parasitical existence.

Monster is a fairly entertaining read, although the pieces of the plot take awhile to come together. It has nuances of A Wrinkle in Time, some of Terry Pratchett's work, and some of Tim Powers' novels but doesn't share their depth.

2. "Play Dead" by Ryan Brown

Ryan Brown manages to merge zombie lore, voodoo, high school football, small-town Texas, and teenage romance in Play Dead. The result pleasantly surprised me.

Cole Logan is quarterback of the Killington Jackrabbits, who are having their first winning season ever. He's also the son of the town's loose woman, inhabitant of a trailer that stands on cinderblocks, a sometime juvenile delinquent, and the neighbor of Black Mona, a crazy cat lady with a purported gift for black magic.

Unfortunately for Cole and his teammates, they're about to face the Elmwood Heights Badgers for the district championship. The Badgers play dirty, pumping themselves up with hybrid steroids and perpetrating acts of vandalism and destruction against the Jackrabbits. First they attack Cole and cut off two of his fingers. Then their attempt to prevent the Jackrabbits from reaching a game goes horribly awry, and the entire team drowns. Only Cole and the head coach escape.

Cole joins up with the coach's football-hating daughter, Savannah Hickham, a writer for the school paper with an eye on the biggest story of the year. Together, they enlist the help of Black Mona in resurrecting the team. She manages to bring the players back as zombies, but they have only a limited window of time before they "go bad," and if they lose their final game, all their souls will be forfeit.

Before the teams can meet on the playing field, however, Cole and Savannah have some pretty major problems to solve. There are 40 flesh-eating zombies roaming around Killington. The sheriff has arrested the entire Badgers lineup and isn't about to let them out of jail for a football game. And Savannah's father, haunted by an earlier tragedy, flatly refuses to coach the high-stakes game.

Parts of the book are predictable. Of course the Jackrabbits will win the game (but what happens to them after that?), and of course Cole and Savannah will fall in love. But what makes this book fun and quirky is how it gets from its entertaining premise to those foregone conclusions.

Starting over...1. Snow Angels by James Thompson

So, after maintaining this blog, then getting backlogged, then never catching up, then posting again for awhile, then abandoning the whole effort, I decided (a half hour ago, while reading in the tub) to try again. I'm starting my count and year anew, with Oct. 1 as the launch date. So here's what I've read so far this month:

Snow Angels by James Thompson is the first in a new series, set in Finland. I wanted to read this book partly because I enjoy Scandinavian crime fiction. (I know it's trendy, but I've been reading it for several years--before the advent of Stieg Larsson's books--and I tend to enjoy some of the lesser-known writers most, while I'm not a particular fan of Henning Mankell, Karin Fossum, or Camilla Lackberg.) However, most of what I've read has been set in Sweden or Norway, and of course Arnadur Indridason exquisitely portrays Iceland. I'd never read or encountered any crime (or other, for that matter) fiction set in Finland, a country for which I have sort of an affinity because of the unique strain of orchestral metal that has originated there (I'm thinking HIM, Nightwish, Apocalyptica, maybe a few others I'm forgetting).

All that said, I found Snow Angels somewhat disappointing. Thompson may find his voice as he continues to write, but I found his style in this novel a bit too Hemingway-esque and elliptical. I think it was intended to convey the starkness of winter above the Arctic Circle, but to accomplish that, a certain amount of character depth was compromised. There was much telling rather than showing.

Weaknesses aside, Thompson does convey the toll of northern Finland's winter days of darkness: alcoholism, a high suicide rate, domestic violence, and religious extremism. At the center of the novel is the macabre murder of a Somali actress, a crime that highlights the country's xenophobia and racism.

Will I read the next installment? I'm not sure yet....

175. A book that shall remain nameless

I knew this one would be a gamble--the plot sounded bizarre, with the potential to be either really cool or really bad. I did read the whole thing but was appalled by the shoddy writing (eg "the gaze of which was directed at him") and the consistent stupidity of the characters. The aforementioned stupidity is even more galling because we're told, repeatedly, that these same characters are the most elite fighting/intelligence force in the world, dangerous, to be reckoned with, blah blah. Yet they forget basic things like, say, setting up a guard or sentry when they're investigating a crime scene inside a house. Hey, let's all pile into the basement, where our foe (introduced, I kid you not, as "arch-criminal and nemesis") can easily surprise us!

Perhaps most galling to me is the fact that this author has published several books through a mainstream publishing house with wide distribution. Yet it's clear that no one attempted even cursory editing or copy-editing to fix blatant contradictions, horrible sentences ("he complained about the bad food and complained miserably about how bad the food tasted"), and basic grammar and writing issues.

174. "The Apprentice" by Lewis Libby

Lewis Libby's debut novel, The Apprentice, is one of those books that's difficult to review immediately; I feel like I need more time to process it, but I'm also not sure more time would help.

The story revolves around an apprentice innkeeper who, during the course of a snowstorm, faces moral dilemmas, murder, suspicion, political intrigue, and first love. The writing is poetic at times and overly clunky at others; even though readers learn many of the characters' names, Libby continues to refer to them as "the apprentice," "the girl who had worn the yellow cloak," "the tiny girl," etc., which makes for awkward narration. The resolution is deliberately ambiguous, which contributes to my own ambivalence about the novel.

173. "Blind Allegiance to Sarah Palin" by Frank Bailey, Ken Morris, and Jeanne Devon

Blind Allegiance to Sarah Palin: A Memoir of Our Tumultuous Years is Frank Bailey's mea culpa for his part in the excesses, abuses, and vindictiveness of Palin's Alaska administration. During his four years with Palin, Bailey worked on her gubernatorial campaign, served on her cabinet, pursued her enemies, weathered her moods, and acted on her personal vendettas.

Bailey was the type of person to whom Palin most appealed: a committed Christian and staunch Republican who believed she could effect important change for her state. The book chronicles the many decisions he made that he now regrets, and the "slippery slope" mentality that allowed him to go from being committed to integrity to violating his own ethical and moral standards. He talks about how his family suffered, how much time he devoted to Palin, how she demanded absolute loyalty from her supporters but was always willing to sacrifice them to save herself. Using e-mails, he documents how she consistently betrayed staff members who followed her and her husband's directives, if those staff members were caught and threatened to embarrass her administration. He talks about the toll on her family, her apparently cavalier attitude toward her children, and her decision to accept the VP nomination even though it meant revealing her 17-year-old daughter's pregnancy to the world.

Bailey comes across as believable, sincere, and in some ways still naive. He defines himself as a "Fox News conservative" and is open about how he violated his own faith and moral principles. He takes responsibility for his own actions and choices. Without assigning blame or sounding bitter, he wonders about the thought processes that enable Palin and her husband to operate the way they do.

This is an eye-opening book. Highly recommend for anyone who still thinks Palin has any Presidential qualities, is anything more than a lip-service Christian, is a good mother, or has any integrity.

172. "Just Kids" by Patti Smith

Singer and writer Patti Smith recounts her love affair and lifelong friendship with artist Robert Mapplethorpe in Just Kids. She met him on her first day in New York City in the late 1960s, and during subsequent encounters, they quickly formed a strong bond that endured Mapplethorpe's exploration of his homosexuality, his "hustling" for money, their poverty, and their mutual artistic aspirations and successes.

Mapplethorpe died of AIDS complications in 1989. Knowing this makes for nail-biting reading about his sexual practices, but it's clear that he wasn't an anomaly in the young, broke crowd of artists of which he and Smith were part. While she never worked as a prostitute, she dated several men who did, and her own survival seems almost miraculous. She talks movingly about Janis Joplin and Jimi Hendrix, as well as other acquaintances and friends who died young and tragically.

One weakness in the book, at least for me, is that Smith assumes her readers are familiar with the entire motley cast of characters that hung around the Chelsea Hotel in the early 1970s. While I recognize many of these names, many others are completely foreign to me, and this made the narrative difficult to follow at times.

Overall, however, this is an honest, poignant memoir of youth, exploration, love, and loss. Enjoyable, provocative, and powerful.

171. "The Skull Mantra" by Elliot Pattison

I had trouble getting through Elliot Pattison's The Skull Mantra, not because of any flaw with the book itself--it's well written, vividly depicts the harsh beauty of Tibet, and provides a sensitive, valuable introduction to the region's traditional culture and religion--but because of the bleakness of life in the Chinese gulags.

Shan, the main character, is a former police detective sentenced to an indefinite period of labor in Tibet. One of the few Chinese prisoners in a brigade of Tibetans, he comes to embrace the teachings and philosophy of the brigade's abbot. His loyalty becomes a tool against him, however, when his work crew discovers a headless body buried under some rocks. The colonel in charge of the county's military defenses enlists Shan to investigate the murder, even as the rival Department of Public Safety conducts its own investigation. He tells Shan that any attempt to escape or failure to solve the crime will result in mass executions in his brigade. Mysterious encounters with rebels and monks, visits to remote monasteries, and the discovery of a secret colony hewn out of the cliffs serve as valuable clues to a crime that extends far beyond what Shan could have imagined.

In the end, the book has what my college friend Becca called a "redemptive" ending, and despite my struggles with the harshness of the Chinese treatment of Tibet, I plan to read the next installment in the series.

170. "Real World" by Natsuo Kirino

Real World, Natsuo Kirino's third novel to be translated into English, opens with a high school boy murdering his mother. The girl next door, also a teenager, overhears the crime take place, and then she has an odd encounter with the boy, whom she has nicknamed Worm. For reasons she can't explain, she lies to the police and her parents about her interaction with Worm. In the meantime Worm, who has stolen her cell phone, begins calling the girl and her three closest friends. Each of them has her own distinct reaction to the crime and the criminal, and he brings out conflicting urges and motivations that will have profound ramifications for them all.

I didn't think Real World was as good as Kirino's previous works Out and Grotesque (which is an excellent and troubling read; I found myself wondering how, as a writer, Kirino lived with such nasty characters without becoming totally unhinged), but it's still a strong novel and very cognizant of the challenges surrounding the surreal lives of Japanese teenagers. Kirino points out the constant sense of threat adolescent girls face and the dangers they encounter daily; this pervading aura of dread and fear shapes the characters and their actions.

169. "Memoirs of a Geisha" by Arthur Golden

I figured I should at least attempt to read Arthur Golden's Memoirs of a Geisha, for the sake of being culturally conversant (same reason I read Twilight), but I didn't expect to enjoy it. To my surprise, I found it engrossing and, mostly, very good. The last 50 pages weakened the effect, because I didn't like the resolution of a major plot point, but they didn't ruin the novel. Very interesting insights into the geisha culture, obviously, but also Japanese society before, during, and after World War II, and the limited options available to girls and women in that society.

168. "Snow Flower and the Secret Fan" by Lisa See

In Snow Flower and the Secret Fan, Lisa See chronicles the life of Lily, a Chinese girl whose station is elevated by her beautiful face, her tiny bound feet, and her special friendship with Snow Flower, a girl from a better family. After Lily's arranged marriage to an aristocratic young man, she learns a secret about Snow Flower that devastates her and threatens their friendship. 

The account of foot-binding is difficult to read, and it's even more difficult to imagine generations of women enduring this practice. Although I knew it was extremely painful and crippling, I didn't realize the process could be fatal. The narration vividly depicts this, as well as the agony of learning to walk on bound feet and the continuing challenges to women's safety posed by the inability to move without pain. For example, when rebels invade, Lily joins a group of refugees fleeing to the mountains. As she toddles up a precipitous, rocky trail on her "beautifully" mutilated feet, she watches other women, unable to balance with their bound feet, lose their footing and plunge to their deaths.

In some ways this is a bleak novel; in others, it's what my college friend Becca used to call "redemptive."

167. "Hoot" by Carl Hiaasen

I read a couple of Carl Hiaasen's adult novels, thought them reasonably entertaining, but didn't find them as compelling as fellow Floridian Tim Dorsey's Serge Storms series. However, I decided to try his Newbery-Award-winning young adult novel, Hoot, and enjoyed it very much. As in his adult novels, Hiaasen combines an offbeat sense of humor with a plot about preserving the unique flora and fauna in Florida.

Roy Eberhardt is the new kid in his Coconut Cove, Florida, middle school. Between battles with the school bully, Roy finds out that a large pancake chain is getting ready to build on a site that's also home to several breeding pairs of endangered burrowing owls. He joins forces with a mysterious barefoot boy and his school's female soccer star to stop the development and save the owls.

166. "The Godfather of Kathmandu" by John Burdett

I thoroughly enjoyed John Burdett's first three novels featuring Thai detective Sonchai Jitpleecheep, so I was eager for the fourth, The Godfather of Kathmandu. However, it was difficult to follow, convoluted, and ultimately disappointing. Sonchai, reeling from the death of his son (which, he explains, is due to his own bad karma and/or his expressed willingness to suffer to achieve Buddhist enlightenment), is drawn into the investigation into the murder of an American film director. The investigation and Sonchai's other role, as consigliere to his corrupt boss (see above reference to bad karma), take the detective to Kathmandu, where he meets a mysterious spiritual guru and a beautiful woman schooled in the ways of tantric sex. Back home in Bangkok, he pursues a connection between the dead film director and an aristocratic, semi-insane, also beautiful doctor of pharmaceuticals. A late connection to gem trading necessitates a trip to Hong Kong and ties together various loose strands, but also adds another dimension to a plot already heady with dimensions.

Conclusion: Definitely not a good introduction to the series, and even die-hard fans might struggle with this one.

165. "The Piano Tuner" by David Mason

David Mason's The Piano Tuner is set primarily in Burma during 1886-1887. Edgar Drake, a London piano tuner, receives a request from the British War Office to travel to colonial Burma to service the piano of Surgeon-Major Anthony Carroll. It's an unusual request, but Carroll is an unusual man: By reciting poetry and playing music, he has managed to forge strong relationships with local tribes and rulers, enabling him to oversee a peaceful settlement in a conflict-ridden region.

Drake leaves his beloved wife in London and travels to Burma, where he confronts realities he could never have imagined: ruthless bandits, desperate poverty, fatally careless British soldiers, an elegant and mysterious native woman, the slow wheels of British bureaucracy, and finally Carroll himself.

His dedication to his mission--not because of any military or civic duty but because of his deep care for pianos--and his fascination with Carroll lead Drake to a series of decisions that will have fatal repercussions.

Some sections of the novel are written in a breathless, comma-laced prose that is difficult to follow, particularly when depicting dialogue. But overall, this is an evocative, powerful novel about a journey into an Asian heart of darkness.

164. "Fieldwork" by Mischa Berlinski

Continuing with the Southeast Asia theme, Fieldwork by Mischa Berlinski takes place in Thailand and in the border regions of the Golden Triangle--Burma, Thailand, and China. The novel's narrator, also named Mischa Berlinski, becomes obsessed with the story of a Dutch-American archaeologist who committed suicide in a Thai jail more than a decade after she shot a missionary twice in the back.

Through interviews with people who knew Martiya van der Leun, the archaeologist; her own letters; forays into archaeology and the spiritual beliefs of local tribes; and discussions with the vast Walker clan--the family of missionaries that spawned the man van der Leun killed--Berlinski strives to understand the crime. In the process, he explores what has motivated four generations of the Walker family, and what compelled van der Leun to give up her American life to dwell in a hut with a pre-literate hill tribe. Her ultimate embrace of the tribal beliefs, at the same time the Walker scion is converting more and more tribe members away from those beliefs, leads to a conflict that the novel attempts to portray as inevitable.

The story is fascinating, and Berlinski is a strong writer, providing ample details about Thai life, history, and cultures to engage readers. My only critique is that the novel's ending felt anticlimactic and a little abrupt.

163. "The Merry Misogynist" by Colin Cotterill

The Merry Misogynist has just murdered his fifth wife and is ready to move on to the sixth at the opening of Colin Cotterill's latest (well, latest available in paperback) entry in the Dr. Siri Paiboun series. However, the body of Wife #5 is discovered, and soon Dr. Siri, the 73-year-old coroner of Laos, and his cohorts are on the trail of the killer. Dr. Siri, who sees ghosts and serves as host to the spirit of ancient shaman Yeh Ming, also embarks on a quest to find Crazy Rajid, a homeless Indian who hasn't been seen at any of his usual haunts. Accompanied by his new wife, Madame Daeng (who makes the best noodles in Vientiane), Dr. Siri pursues both investigations, despite his age and declining health.

The book takes place in Laos in the late 1970s, after the Communist takeover. Dr. Siri's joyous, mischievous, and irascible personality, as well as his loyalty to anyone who needs his help, tempters the grimness of the Pathet Lao regime.

162. "Dead Silence" by Randy Wayne White

In Dead Silence,* Randy Wayne White's protagonist, Doc Ford, prevents a Senator from being kidnapped and then is hired by her to find the boy taken in her place. In the world of the novel, Fidel Castro has died, and the U.S. has taken custody of his documents, possessions, and files. Various parties, including Doc himself as well as the kidnappers, have a strong interest in those files. The action vacillates between Ford's native Florida and the Hamptons, an alien environment but one that White handles well.The kidnapped boy is a tough, gutsy figure, although his connection to Ford is a bit too coincidental to be believable. An entertaining read, but not one for those new to Doc Ford and his world.

*No relation to the killer clown movie of the same name, which I also own.

161. "The Sneetches and Other Stories" by Dr Seuss

The Sneetches and Other Stories by Dr Seuss is reasonably entertaining. The title story is funny but also contains a lesson about accepting those who are different.

157-160. Books that shall remain nameless

Unusually, for the "books that shall remain nameless" category, I actually read these in their respective entireties.

Book #1: There's this author I love to hate, and I read his/her work on a semi-regular basis out of sheer masochism or something. I think s/he has intriguing ideas and can occasionally turn an elegant phrase but doesn't manage to deliver cohesive stories, in either novel or short story form. I decided to torture myself with this one in the hope that it would inspire me to write. Not sure that worked.

Book #2: An older work by an author I normally like, but s/he seems to have been at an arrogant point in his/her career, and the book suffers.

Book #3: By a new-to-me author who had received raves from several authors whose work I enjoy. Didn't hate this one, but didn't find any compelling reason to recommend it either.

Book #4: Thought this was going to be a cool horror story about black magic in an isolated place, and it kind of was, but there were a lot of loose ends (probably because it's the first in a series). Writing was overly simplistic, in the way that makes me feel like I'm losing brain cells as I read. But the plot was reasonably compelling.

156. "Wormwood" by Poppy Z. Brite

So, as I was driving from Georgia to North Carolina, I decided I needed to reread Wormwood, Poppy Z. Brite's first short story collection. Most of the stories are set in the rural South, although there are also some New Orleans entries. Brite was between 18 and 24 when he wrote these stories, and that comes through in both positive and negative ways--there's freshness, enthusiasm, and excitement, but also an overly dramatic and adjective-ridden prose (these are faults I still fight, so no harsh criticism here). I first read this collection as a goth graduate student at Penn State, which isn't the South but does have lush vegetation, humidity, and quirky, isolated mountain towns, so I could kind of relate to the world in the stories. I'm not sure I'd ever read the book in its entirety since then. Rereading it was a fun little jaunt into nostalgia and also helped me wrap my head around a few issues in my own writing.