Book Review: Remnant: The Palimar Saga: Book One by KR Solberg and CR Jacobson

It's not often that I hit a fantasy novel that's the perfect blend of intergenerational adventure, but KR Solberg and CR Jacobson have pulled together a compelling tale that finds that balance. Jon Therman and his family are smugglers, getting by in a land that staggers under the yoke of an oppressive Drawlen empire ruled by authoritarian immortals and their thugs.

And for the most, he's happy to be smuggling sunrock, and he and his wife are doing their best for their kids ... and maybe things would have continued like that indefinitely if it weren't for the fact that the nefarious immortals are sniffing around for Jon's kids. Because Reasons. I'm not going to spoil it for you.

While things get off to a relatively sedate start, stuff becomes unhinged quite quickly and the story picks up momentum as everyone pretty much gets scattered to the four quarters. And nothing peeves a parent more than having bad people threaten their brood – and hijinks ensue.

What stands out for me is the attention to detail with the worldbuilding. I am an unrepentant Tolkien nerd, so to have an author put so much effort into their setting really tickled me. And yeah, a rather large, diverse cast of characters, too, all of whom you quickly realise have complex backstories. And baggage. Booyeah! The authors throw readers in at the deep end, which I love. There's so much to discover. 

I listened to the audiobook version of this which was dual-narrated by Michael Kramer and Kate Reading (who're known for their reading of Brandon Sanderson's novels). Granted, this was my first time experiencing the pair, and while I liked Reading, I wasn't that sold on Kramer at the start (I'll admit I'm a Simon Vance fangrrrl.) But it's a treat having two immensely talented and experienced voice actors at the helm, so if audiobooks are your jam you so will not be disappointed.

But a word of warning – there is a large cast. So, if you struggle with names and stuff, maybe have a print or ebook handy so you can consult the appendix. This is flintlock adventure fantasy with familiar themes. I was thinking a lot about the old telly series Firefly in terms of the banter and the ease with which the characters interact with each other. I don't see enough of this in epic fantasy.

Even better, we see some non-human sentients like trolls and shapeshifters, all with complex backgrounds – which I always adore. The authors' style is easy to get into, solidly written and engaging, resulting in a series I will heartily recommend to anyone who wants an epic that features ordinary people thrust into extraordinary circumstances where they realise their heroic qualities.

The Sylvan Horn (#1 The Sylvan Chord) by Robert Redinger

I will kick off by saying that any fantasy novel that features elves is essentially going to have me make grabby fingers, so when The Sylvan Horn by Robert Redinger arrived on my pile of review books, I was naturally optimistic that this one would work for me. If you're a long-time Tolkien fan, you'll be on familiar turf – there's a foul sorcery afoot, in the east... And instead of rings, we're dealing with magical runes. Our chosen one is not a hobbit, nor is there a Fellowship à la Tolkien, but it's clear we're in familiar territory here. 

Perhaps too familiar.

I desperately, wanted to like this novel. Really. The idea, while not overly original, (and let's not kid ourselves, many of our favourite fantasy classics are tropey AF) could nonetheless have worked, had Redinger's execution been up to par. (A hint: don't try to wield words like the Prof if you're not certain you've got an excellent ear for figurative writing.)

The first problem for me was the editing. Or, rather, the lack thereof. A good developmental editor would have been able to gently steer the author towards a cohesive, coherent structure, with attention paid to world building, tension, character development – all the hallmarks of excellent storytelling. And after that, this novel was desperately in need of a stringent round of copy editing. And proofreading. I am being as diplomatic as possible in this matter when I say that this novel, as it stands, was not ready for publication, because I am cognisant that I'd have to be able to say this to the author's face.

Redinger is clearly a HUGE fan of The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings. He wears it on his sleeve and he pillages Tolkien's pockets without any shame for small change and whatever else he might find there. Like magical swords. I have read Middle-earth fanfiction that displays better narrative structure, style, and character development. We can all learn from good fanfiction. 

Events take place in The Sylvan Horn, but because there is not enough depth in the point of view nor even a helpful author voice, it's simply impossible to fully grasp why things are happening and what characters' motivations are. What we are left with is a series of random, loosely interconnected events, with characters doing stuff without much rhyme or reason. 

I wish I could say something good about this book. It's clear that this author really loves what he does, but this one shouldn't have gone to print in its current state. It's a clear example for indie authors to heed: don't rush to publication before you're absolutely certain you've revised your novel to within an inch of its existence.

Children (The Ten Worlds #1) by Bjørn Larssen

I'm one of those readers who, the moment a book's cover catches her eye, and the content is vaguely aligned with her interests, she'll snap the book up. And I really, really wanted to like Children by Bjørn Larssen. His writing style is strong and unrestrained, and perhaps it's the latter part of this description where things fell a little flat for me. I can liken this novel best to a vine that's been allowed to grow beyond the trellis, so that the structure of the book felt somewhat all over the place.

The story is told from the alternating points of view of the human magic-wielder Maya, exiled from the home of her foster-mother Freya (yes, THE Freya), she's left serving a king whom she doesn't like one bit. For Reasons that are many and varied. Enter Magni, the natural son of the god Thor, who has, ahem, an axe to grind with his father. Because, Reasons. I'm not going to go into the depth and breadth of this sprawling story, but as the Norns will have it, the tricksy, shapeshifting Maya's and soft-hearted Magni's paths do cross, and their individual tales weave fluidly with a retelling of some of the classic Norse myths.

Children is an ambitious read, and for the most Larrsen executes things well. Maya is desperate for freedom, but her desire for this comes at a great cost – one that she's perhaps not quite prepared to pay. Magni's life is anything but easy, and in his naïveté, he jumps from one cringe-worthy situation to another. And perhaps that was one of my main reasons why I wasn't as enamoured with this story as many other readers were – I felt that at times Magni's lack of guile made him fall almost squarely into the TSTL* category. Neither character, in my not-so-humble opinion, did much growing so much suffering one terrible denouement after the other.

The pacing for the novel also felt uneven, to me, at least, and at times confusing. There were moments when the writing became too fast, too unstructured, but then again, YMMV – this is most certainly an ambitious telling, but I'm pretty certain it's also not going to be everyone's cup of tea, as there are scenes of emotional, physical, and substance abuse, in addition to manipulation and oodles of violence. Then again, I wouldn't expect anything less from the Norse pantheon. They can be a tricksy lot who don't particularly care for those they see as being less than them. My thoughts are that this novel could have used a more rigorous structural edit right at the get-go, but on the whole this is still a worthy read. If you're looking for a 'lower-deck' type story featuring minor personages from the old sagas, then this might well be right for you. In this case, I suspect, that the fault for not liking this book as much as others did falls squarely with the reader.

* Too Stupid To Live

Thief Mage Beggar Mage by Cat Hellisen

I've edited or seen early drafts of many of Cat Hellisen's novels and short stories, so it was an absolute treat to have a first look at one of their titles that I've *not* worked on, and it is one that I could simply concentrate on reading and enjoying. Thief Mage Beggar Mage is best described as a heady mix of magic, kinda-Asian-inspired fantasy, courtly shenanigans, betrayal, untenable love, and dragons. What's not to love? Okay, so I admit it, this book ticked all the boxes for me right from the start.

We follow the doings of Tet, who's crippled by a curse from the gods unless he can retrieve a magical artefact. In a world where your true name can be the deadliest currency, Tet's problem (apart from the dastardly divine curse that just gets worse by the day) is the fact that he doesn't know his true name. And as the story unfolds, Tet's quest becomes more and more complicated as he crosses paths with the mysterious Dohza, who is beguiling and enshrouded in mystery. Tet knows better than to fall for the one-armed mage, but as we get to know him, we realise that Tet is not exactly known for his good life choices. Especially when those life choices have him entangled in a plot to unseat The White Prince – a despot who rules the empire with an iron fist. 

I admit I'm a sucker for stories about the underdog who has lost everything, and somehow has to claw his way back out of the deep hole which, let's be honest, he dug for himself, and Tet fits that mould perfectly for me. He's pitiable, yet has a peculiar kind of magnetism about him that I appreciate. Forever an outsider, he has a unique perspective of the society in which he operates. 

Another hallmark of Cat's writing is that there are often echoes of well-known fairy-tales laced with queer themes immersed in their writing, and this story is no exception – Cat pays tribute to Hans Christian Andersen's The Tinderbox, complete with giant magical dogs and fabulous riches, and all the wonder you can ask for. And what I love even more about Tet is that he's most certainly *not* the hero of this tale. I'd describe him more as a catalyst or linchpin for greater events that unfold. No shining, magical swords here, but rather a battered lute and a begging bowl. Oh, yes, and that all-important whiff of dragons.

If you're in the mood for a lyrical, textured fantasy novel redolent with rich imagery and intrigue, then this will hit the mark. The conclusion was perfect, bringing equal measures of "Ah, yes" and "Oh, my heart." Have some tissues handy. Or maybe have a quiet place where you can go lie down once you finish the book.

Dreamlander by KM Weiland

I admit to having a fondness for portal fantasies, and Dreamlander by KM Weiland offers plenty to scratch that itch with a side order of a strong 'Chosen One' theme. Chris Redston's world is turned upside down when he discovers that the dreams he's been having of a raven-haired woman angrily cussing him out are real. In fact, he's rather alarmed when he realises that in this alternate reality he's what's known as a 'Gifted' – an individual fated to be a game-changer who can travel between the two worlds. But exactly how he goes about bringing about earth-shattering change is quite another.

Weiland creates a detailed, compelling tale filled with magic juxtaposed with our more mundane reality. Chris finds himself flung into the midst of a war – a situation he is most assuredly not suited to – and has to engage in some creative problem solving in order to win the day. 

While some of the mechanics of Chris being able to travel between worlds every time he falls asleep felt a bit contrived for me, I nonetheless enjoyed the flow of the story and the world building. And I'm a sucker for fantasy novels that are not stuck in the default Medieval or Renaissance settings that are the stock of the genre.

Though in places I felt the writing went a smidge too fast, and could have used a bit more digging to engage with characters' motivations, this was overall a pleasing read that kept the pages turning. 

A Conjuring of Light (Shades of Magic #3) by VE Schwab

I'm glad that I've been able to dip into VE Schwab's Shades of Magic trilogy. It has all the elements I love, including princes, thieves, pirates and courtly intrigue, all tied together with a well-realised magical system. Her writing offers just enough description to let your imagination fill in the rest to create a vivid world populated with fascinating characters.

In hindsight, I feel that book 2 and 3 are basically one book that's been split in two, with book 1 of the trilogy giving us a prequel of sorts. But what Schwab does well is tie up all her loose ends while leaving just a hint where this world might be revisited in the future. (And I have many Thoughts on that.)

While parts of A Conjuring of Light felt a bit left of field (a fetch quest in the middle of the story), Schwab nonetheless delivers a tale that's engaging and filled with lore at every turn. We get to see a bit more of the world, other than just the various Londons.

Rhy really has an opportunity to shine in book 3, which is both beautiful and filled with much sadness as he plays a more prominent role, and a redemption arc that develops is ultimately quite satisfying. The dynamic between Kell and Lila is intense yet prickly as always, with Alucard and Holland offering a solid counterbalance. The situation between characters is often fraught with tension, which makes for some entertaining scenes.

I don't really have that much more to say, other than this being a satisfying read that hit nearly all the right notes. Considering that I was looking for something that has a whiff of Gaiman's The Sandman, this was a good match.

On collaboration, and writing in mammoths – with Toby Bennett

Toby and I didn't quite have our book launch in Cape Town like we planned, due to The Thing I Don't Really Want to Mention, and neither of us were up to setting up webinar or something equally sophisticated. So we had a chat via Google Docs, in which we discuss how we've been collaborating on our new novel together. 

Nerine Dorman: Wow, so I believe the world wasn’t quite ready for us this year, was it, eh? Just when things were starting to get interesting, we end up in virtual house arrest. But silver linings, eh? We finished writing a novel together. And in about six months as well.

Toby Bennett: The world has never been ready, and when the device is finally finished they shall all quake before… oh… oh right, you’re talking about the book… Yes, the one solace I have is that I am able to use this time in lock down to polish The Serpent’s Quest… Before turning it over to your red pen for a final pruning – it may have bloomed a bit during my audio review, but I am having a whale of a time which is preferable to wailing all the time I suppose…

So yeah book one all but in the bag and two more to go – the dreaded obligation of a trilogy – still it is nice to be able to share the responsibility with someone… A bit like having a gym partner to spot you I guess. Yes we can have war mammoths AND terror birds! Feel that burn!

ND: Creating this world together feels almost like having part of the benefits of running a roleplaying game without having to roll any dice. To a large degree I think what’s helped us with this story is that we were able to merge our crazy ideas seamlessly. I mean, the novel sounds kinda crazy when summed up as 'ancient Egyptian elves meet Vikings on horseback with a side order of ancient Chthonic beings'.

Despite the initial plans, the writing didn’t quite pan out quite the way I expected, and it’s different with every writing partnership I’ve encountered. Back when I wrote with Carrie Clevenger, we used to swap chapter points of view. And what we’ve got going here is closer to what I know that Alex Latimer and Diane Awerbuck have when they wrote South and i as Frank Owen.

You and I have worked closely on laying down the foundations, but you’ve been an absolute machine knocking out the words while I’ve kinda gone in afterwards pruning, snipping, adding a bit here and there, writing a few key scenes. In a way I feel kinda guilty, but we’ve each played to our strengths in this – so it’s a win-win.

TB: Well that’s the thing, no writer is flawless at every aspect of the craft, and it’s very easy to get bogged down in a single perspective. Collaboration frees us from an individual viewpoint and allows us to offer an amalgamation of the very best each of us has to offer. Though on a side note this does require the skill of unfettering one's ego and asking “what would be best for the story?” It’s not something I would ever recommend any writer do until they are relatively comfortable with their own voice and have developed enough professional objectivity to let go while still caring.

Of course when there is synergy one can never be sure if it is a question of great minds think alike or fools never differ but there has to be a shared vision and an understanding that the work is paramount. Which I think we’ve managed.

For all the potential pitfalls, collaboration is a rare treat. I’ve done it twice now and found it to be professionally and personally rewarding. Writing is often a solitary activity and I think that writing with someone is as close as we come to the enjoyment of musicians jamming together. There’s a bit of extra effort in being mindful of the other person, but the joy of being able to share the process is thoroughly exhilarating. You often find yourself going to some unexpected places and stretching further than you might have on your own.

ND: What I’ve appreciated this far is having someone else to bounce ideas off of – someone who’s as invested in the story as I am. There are moments when I’m writing solo that I encounter tangles that often take weeks if not months to figure out, like how I hit a brick wall with my novel The Company of Birds. My editor at the time could tell me that something wasn’t working, but it wasn’t her place to tell me what I had to do to fix it.

A friend of mine who was co-writing a novel with her daughter would often go on long walks with her, and by the time they got home, would have hashed out the sticky plot points that had been bugging them. Likewise, how our video calls end up spawning mammoths and weird curve balls that I’d never have considered.

It’s like a game of tag, with each writer picking up where the other left off and running with the idea until it blooms monstrous fruit. But as you point out, it’s also about being mindful, and knowing when to step back or step in.

One of the big concerns that I do think a lot of authors have is unevenness in tone, especially if each writer has a particular style. I’d say that you and I are not that vastly different from each other. I also feel that you have a particular knack of looking into a scene and digging just that little bit deeper in terms of motivations, as well as the to-ing and fro-ing of dialogue.

TB: You are far too kind, but I’m a writer so I will take ANY validation! Tone is certainly an issue, but one that I think can be resolved by having each writer review the work. Right now, I am doing an audio read through The Serpent’s Quest and you’d be amazed how many things I am catching – little inconsistencies in tone and story from both of us that seem more stark now that the first book is real and the shape of things better set (We recently started focusing on the northern continent of our world and those changes are having little effect on details in The Serpent’s Quest).

Once I have finished the audio review you’ll get the chance to go through it, which means the tone and language in each scene should be nicely sanded down so no one can see the seams…

I don’t think I can overstate the usefulness of having another brain helping you spark on a story. The big bad in book two got a whole lot nastier and more credible to me when you mentioned a parallel with Alexander the Great – I’d always know there was a schism between our main character, Kelbrin, and his traitorous protege, Dugan, but I suddenly saw how the cracks in their relationship might have developed as Dugan took on the ways of the Abrassian necromancers that Kelbrin had helped him overthrow (many Greeks murmured that Alexander was changed after his conquest of Persia).

It’s the little details that fill out a story and add richness – so two heads really are better than one. I guess what anyone contemplating this kind of project would be interested in is process. The first and most obvious requirement is good communication (stay in touch and share those documents!). I’m typically more comfortable with letting a story unravel as it occurs to me, but in this case the work requires us to be quite specific about where the story will go.

With collaboration one needs a well established framework, preferably with set scenes and events that can be assigned to each writer. Naturally nothing is carved in stone, and the narrative can evolve, but I’d say it’s worth taking the time to get the scaffolding in place.

As I mentioned, new details are already coming up as book two starts to solidify, but we basically know the entire arc of our story and have mapped out the big events already. I’m thinking that will pay off and let us work together better. Know who handles what, and of course the double review process allows each of us to shape every scene to the shared vision we laid out. Oh, also, in case anyone doesn’t know this one, always have a shared map and glossary for reference.

ND: Having that bigger-picture view most certainly helps. I don’t know why the Alexander the Great thing only occurred to me much later. So many villains are hampered by the ‘let’s be evil for evil’s sake’ so I feel it’s absolutely vital that we give Dugan sufficient motivation for doing what it is he’s doing. If we look at all the great empires of the past, in many cases each emperor had their motivations.

For some it was simply a need to expand borders to reclaim previously lost territory – an act within itself that can lead to further expansion once the machinery goes into action. In other cases, for instance the Scramble for Africa, we can see it as a sort of arms race and a quest for raw materials. For instance, the British Empire annexing the Cape Colony from the Dutch to also keep it out of the hands of the French. Dugan starts out, I believe, with the earnest desire to rid his world of the corruption posed by a powerful, corrupt city-state, but good intentions are not necessary enough to keep one from being corrupted in turn.

As authors, we can take lessons from historical events. In terms of collaborating, I’m really appreciating the fact that we can hammer out these details together. It also helps that as individuals, we share a lot of common ground in terms of our personal philosophical world views – so we riff off each other quite a bit. And the best part is that now when I dive in for formal edits, so much of the structural work has been done. We’re playing off of each other’s strengths, which I think will give us a massive advantage by the time we start querying.

TB: Ah, querying, when we find out if the gatekeepers see what we see… joy! Win or lose at that particular game I’m proud of the work we’re doing. I’m not sure what the literary world is going to look like post Covid-19. It wasn’t exactly going gangbusters to start with, but I think that just about the most exciting thing that any of us can do is share our dreams – it’s the reason any writer puts ink on paper (or pixel on screen). Surely the natural progression of that need to reach others must be mingling visions with someone who can dream with you.

I don’t mean to wax too poetic, but there are times when I think the ivory walls of the skull may be the true prison for all of us, the impulses we get from the outside, the only antidote to crippling solipsism… but that may just be a moth of lockdown talking. In either case I look forward to continuing Hetephes and Kelbrin’s journey and I hope that others are keen to come along for the ride. I mean come on, war, betrayal, intrigue and mad gods who wouldn’t want to be a part of that?

Certainly it’s a good idea for anyone who wants to take the plunge with us to take a deep breath now because I have every intention of letting up till we reach a gasping, bloody conclusion! WAR MAMMOTHS, HO!

ND: Don’t forget the dragons.

* * *

Pick up Toby Bennett’s fantasy novel The Music Box, or Nerine Dorman’s science fiction novel Sing down the Stars.

All the Birds in the Sky by Charlie Jane Anders

I'm a little on the fence with All the Birds in the Sky by Charlie Jane Anders. It's a sweet little book that I feel doesn't easily rest in an exact genre. It's contemporary fantasy but feels more like magic realism with a slight surreal twist. There's also a fair amount of gentle mockery aimed at the whole East Coast hipster vibe that may also see this book not ageing well.

For the most, I couldn't really immerse in the story; it felt like there was a degree of separation between me and the characters, so it came across like the author narrator was at the wheel telling me the story rather than me having my preferred deep point of view. This in itself is not a major sin, and some authors do it really well, like Neil Gaiman, for instance, but it didn't really work for me here. I kept getting jerked out of the story, and I felt as if the tone, although charming, lacked sincerity.

The heart of this story centres around the age-old trope of magic vs. science, with two main characters who are polar opposites of each other, and you can see from a mile away that they're going to get romantically entangled no matter how much they have a prickly friendship as children. The novel follows them from awkward childhood to equally awkward adulthood, as they each become masters of their particular professions: Laurence is some sort of hotshot computer whizz while Patricia is a witch.

Anders' writing has a lot of whimsy, and some of the imagery is quite lovely, but in the end what salted it for me was the fact that I felt that distance from the meat and bones of the story. I also felt that there was a lot of build-up to the cataclysmic conclusion, which then sort of fizzled out near the end. I don't know if it was a case of the author being unsure of where they were headed or if they were rushed to finish. I also didn't feel strongly about either Patricia or Laurence – perhaps I liked Patricia more than I did Laurence, but the lack of immersion in either's point of view didn't help. All in all, I wasn't sold, even if I generally found this an enjoyable ride that I'll appreciate discussing with others who've also read the book.

The Ventifact Colossus (The Heroes of Spira #1) by Dorian Hart

With fantasy in general being rather grim and dark these days, it's quite refreshing to encounter The Ventifact Colossus by Dorian Hart. This is the kind of book that reads like your typical D&D campaign, but with a slight Disney-esque flavour to keep things from getting too heavy. Magical McGuffins, check; wizards, check; weird beasties, check; a flying carpet, check. Dorian also does what so many authors struggle to do – balancing a story where there are multiple viewpoint characters, and giving each a unique voice. I'm team Morningstar all the way, just so you know.

The gist of the story is that a ragtag of eight random characters who seemingly have nothing that makes them remarkable, are drawn together by a wizard's spell for the purpose of saving the world. All are, to a degree, rejects or your average joe, thrown together to do the extraordinary, heading off on quest after quest while hoping to find all they need to stop the Big Bad. It feels a little like a lower-deck story, but I suspect in subsequent novels in the series, that the characters will really come into their own.

I can't say much more other than this was a fresh-faced, fun story that although I struggled to suspend disbelief with certain events near the end, I was overall entertained. And I'd say that this is also a novel that you can happily pass on to even your teen readers. This feel-good adventure has a sincerity to it that I've been missing in fantasy of late. It may be too light for some tastes, but it's just right if you're in the need of reminding that the world is not all doom and gloom.