Books

I've recently had two books on my list:

* Thirteen Orphans by Jane Lindskold

and

* Sandman Slim by Richard Kadrey

I've touched on these in prior posts, but they both deserve a little more attention.

Thirteen Orphans is billed on Amazon is being in the same vein as Jim Butcher's Dresden Files (they actually say if you're a fan of the Dresden Files, you'll like Orphans). I'm hard-pressed to see why.

In a nutshell: Brenda Morris, a college student, finds out she's got a very weird heritage of magic stemming from a place called the Land of Smoke and Sacrifice. She's part of a magical tradition that is aligned with Chinese Astrology. In her case, she's the heir to the role of the Rat. And someone's popping around stealing the memories and powers of the various other roles.

It's conceptually a neat story. The magic used by the titular Thirteen Orphans is connected to the game of mah jong. It's subtle and understated in many ways, but clever.

Where I have problems is the narrative. The story is plodding and slow. The heroine's issues seem more at home in a bad soap opera than set against the novel's backstory. For the most part, nothing really happens until the last few chapters of the book and even then it ends on a cliffhanger. It's not even a particularly interesting cliffhanger. Can't say I'm tempted to pick up the next book.

And I have no idea why Amazon connects this with Butcher's work. They're nothing alike.

Then there's Sandman Slim. A couple of friends suggested this to me as a read, also telling me it has a Dresden Files feel to it. Another friend had a copy and found the story to be somewhat unappealing, so she gave me her copy.

I sat down that evening and started reading.

In terms of narrative, it does have a strong noir feel, like the Dresden Files. The main character is a misanthropic bastard, but that doesn't really bother me. He had a somewhat interesting background and some fascinating abilities. I didn't mind the childish levels of profanity. It was all good times.

And then I was halfway through and the story didn't seem to go anywhere.

The main guy, Stark, is supposed to be this incredible badass, but he spends almost all of his time getting the crap kicked out of him and healing. He's walking around with a bunch of bullets in his chest. Why? Just 'cause he doesn't feel like having them removed. But they hurt.

Um...

He's supposed to be this powerful magician, but he doesn't use his magic 'cause he's afraid his enemies will find him. Nevermind that they find him anyway.

Um...

And then, as he's bumbling around like a brain-dead chimp, he suddenly gets the nickname of "Sandman Slim". No explanation. No context. Boom. There it is.

The narrative quickly devolves into a sort of rambling thing I'd expect from a hormone-crazed 13 year old whose entire life is violent video games and bad porn.

About 2/3rds through the book, I put it down somewhere in boredom. I haven't bothered to pick it up again. I'm not sure I'm going to bother.