Phreaks by Matthew Derby

Occasionally, I'll pick up a title on Audible that I wouldn't ordinarily listen to or care about, and the radio play Phreaks by Matthew Derby is one such. Granted, it didn't take much to twist my rubber arm because one of my favourite actors lends his vocal talents to the production. If you ever watched Gotham, you'll know and love Ben McKenzie as much as I do. Of course the added tease (and here I'm wearing my 1990s on my sleeve) is that Christian Slater also has a decent part.

This full-cast radio play that is set in 1970 grabbed my attention from the get go. We meet teen Emma Gable, who is obsessed with making random phone calls so she can chat with whoever picks up. Despite her disability (or perhaps because of it) she is plucky and possesses a sharp tongue. These phone calls are her idea of entertainment and a link to a world beyond her current life, and honestly, I don't blame her. If you're blind, your parents are troubled, and you've got little else to keep you occupied after school, then why the hell not. Except it's all fun and games until she stumbles onto a bunch of people who use the phone systems to run what was then (very) basic hacks.

We also meet Bell security agent Bill Connolly (McKenzie – he's such a typical detective type down to his voice) who's chafing at how his career is going nowhere. That he's stuck working for Bell when he has greater aspirations ... and it looks like he's going to spend most of the play grumbling until he gets a whiff of this group of hackers, and figures that Emma is the key he needs to unlock the problem.

While there're no high-octane car chases, this is still a thrilling listen, and the characters you encounter are fascinating and flawed. I love how Emma, ever the misfit, garners a degree of social clout thanks to her skill with gaming the phone system. Emma's father (voiced by Slater), is his own worst enemy, and I'd cheerfully like to slap him upside the head for the way he treats Emma's mum, who is clearly quite ill thanks to the hazards of her job.

Beneath the slow burn of the gradually evolving plot, we are faced with the small-town tragedies that everyday people face, drawing to a bitter-sweet conclusion. I admit that I know very little about hacking and how the phone systems worked back then, so it was fascinating having a glimpse into an era that was the reality for so many people less than a decade before I popped out of my mum's womb. Our world is very different now, and Phreaks feels like a little bit of a time capsule for those who might be curious.

SSOTBME by Ramsey Dukes

The first time I met Ramsey Dukes, it was over breakfast at the now-defunct Tibetan Tea Shop in Simon's Town. A friend had put me onto him, as someone I should meet and talk to, and as they say, the rest is history. He is a thinker of rare wit and deep insight, and it is through this slim little volume SSOTBME: Revised, an Essay on Magic, that I've rediscovered my delight in the Western magical system.

Dukes outlines a system of approaching our experience of our world into four directions: Scientific, Religious, Magical and Artistic. Each is a valid way of evaluating and making decisions. Each has their own purpose, and in fact, he goes on to show how each individual will at different times employ that sort of thinking.

Chiefly, he deals with magic, explaining it as an approach that is unafraid to be selective in which criteria one adopts when it comes to problem solving – IOW, the stories that we tell ourselves to explain a set of circumstances. According to Dukes, magic embraces both truth and falsehood, as well as illusion, knowingly. He suggests that it's not so much how one arrives at a solution, but the point that one's actions produces tangible results, even though they might not be considered logical.

A magician, according to Dukes, is aware of his surroundings, of the patterns, and is adept in manipulating them according to a particular expression of his will. [My explanation, using the Parking Fairies is – if asking the Parking Fairies to help you find a spot near the mall entrance on a busy Saturday appears to help you chill the fuck out and find that parking spot, while giving you the illusion that the task was attained easier, then why the hell not]

Mostly, Dukes explains how magic is a way to engender wholeness. There's a certain degree of playfulness to it as well, if you ask me. And there's the fact that as a magician you become more aware of the interconnectedness of things around you, and better able to manipulate outcome because of the changes you have wrought to your own responses.

Imagination is a powerful tool, and we're apt to be dismissive of it, but often this "set dressing" as it were, adds meaning to how we approach our daily challenges. Also, what Dukes points out is that you cannot use the same criteria to evaluate magic as you would for, say, religion or science. To do so is absurd (and a waste of time). And similar to art, magic is about creating and manipulating meaning around you. And to be unafraid to play with subjective viewpoints – and to do so fluidly and not locked down by dogma.

He underscores that Magic, Art, Science and Religion should not be at war with each other, but that those forms of approaching our daily lives are often intertwined and various expressions thereof have prominence at different situations. Magic is merely a way to maintain a perception that is different from the norm, it is about creating powerful metaphors that you can use to solve problems or create change, and embraces both light and dark aspects of Self, so is therefore beyond morality. (Which is probably why religious folks hate it so much.) Magic is what it is, it's how we approach our personal wholeness that matters to us, as individuals, and exploring the unknown. (So no dogma, as such.)

SSOTBME came at a good time for me, when I'd hit a stage in my life where I was wondering what the point of it all is in terms of maintaining an interest in esoteric matters. Needless to say, Dukes has offered a rather valuable way of looking at my own work. If you've yet to discover his writings, and this seems like the sort of thing that interests you, I can't recommend him enough. He also maintains a YouTube channel that might be worthwhile checking out.

Jim Henson's Labyrinth by ACH Smith

I go into reading novelisations of films rather warily, and unfortunately I was not exactly blown out of the water by ACH Smith's novelisation of the Jim Henson film Labyrinth. To give a little background, this film was hugely influential on me when I was younger – it ranked among productions such as The Neverending Story, Willow, and their ilk, that occupied a large part of my imagination.

I revisited the film Labyrinth quite recently, but because I'm the special kind of fantasy fan who wants to eke out the full experience over multiple media platforms, I had to get the book too.

I wish I could say that Smith's writing does the film justice, but it doesn't. At least not for me. I've always felt there's something a little deeper, grittier in Labyrinth, that the book kinda skates past. On the surface, it may appear a bog-standard quest, and with a strong female protagonist as well (which for its time was quite unusual). But Henson goes a lot deeper, especially pitting a young teen girl, Sarah, against the plotting Goblin King Jareth.

There is something uncomfortable in this May-December pairing, verging on the forbidden. Jareth is both creepy and sensual at the same time, and I could go all Freudian and Jungian at the same time, and spend reams and reams of pages unpicking the archetype and frothing about a young woman's awakening sexuality expressed in her opposition to her animus. But I'm not going to, and it's beyond the scope of this review, which is supposed to focus on Smith's writing.

Even if the novelisation of the movie was aimed at a middle grade readership, the writing itself feels simplistic even compared to some of the other books in this age group that I've encountered. Smith himself also takes liberties with the script that I feel are unnecessary deviations that don't progress or enhance the plot in any way. Language usage itself is somewhat twee (hence my thinking it might be aimed at much-younger readers ... but then That Scene in the ballroom between Sarah and Jareth is ... well ... not age appropriate and downright creepy.)

Smith aims for a near-limited third-person point of view, but he skips between characters randomly, which just annoyed me, along with clunky monologues without developing a strong enough voice for the author-narrator. Perhaps the story might work better if read out loud... I don't know. Just that I've enjoyed better YA literature that doesn't feel as if the author is being somewhat patronising to his readers.

(All right, it's my opinion that good YA fiction will appeal to both young and older people.)

Despite my misgivings, this is still a decent read. I'm glad I bought this particular edition because, well, duh, I'm a huge fan of the film, even if it's completely cringe-worthy whenever Bowie breaks into song. And those tights...that leave very little to the imagination.

I digress...

What I like about the book is that they've included some of Brian Froud's concept art as an appendix, along with some of Henson's notes, so for those who're interested in the behind-the-scenes details, these little additions are sweet. Also, it's a pretty hardcover, so will look great on my bookshelf right next to my first-edition English translation of Michael Ende's The Neverending Story... Because that's the sort of fantasy geek I am.

Gutted: Beautiful Horror Stories edited by Doug Murano and D Alexander Ward

Gutted: Beautiful Horror Stories, edited by Doug Murano and D Alexander Ward, most certainly gave me a little of everything to enjoy, though there were a fair number that I felt weren't necessarily horror so much as simply dark fiction. The mood is apt to change – some tales are quite literary and magical, while others give more of that visceral gut punch one expects from a good horror tale. While I'm not going to go into exhaustive detail with every story, I will highlight those that stood out for me.

"Arbeit Macht Frei" by Lisa Mannetti isn't a story I'd necessarily classify as horror in the traditional sense – though I feel it delves deeper into the horror that we ourselves are capable of rather. Our narrator is a Jew in a death camp with her mother, acting as a nurse's aide. And it's how she copes, atones for betraying her mother even for fear of repercussions.

"Water Thy Bones" by Mercedes M Yardley is a glorious riot of gore – as a victim and killer fall in love and express their devotion in the act of dismemberment. It's not so much that the trope is new – but the writing is lush.

Something that I'd not expected to find in an anthology was a choose-your-own-adventure style story. "A Haunted House is a Wheel Upon Which Some are Broken by Paul Tremblay offers the suggestion that the true horror of the story lies in the way that it loops – you, as reader, are incapable of escaping.

"Repent" by Richard Thomas is darkly rich... A corrupt cop makes a deal with the devil to save his son from cancer. The price is his surrender to the corruption in order for the son to live and for him to be expunged from their lives forever. What I liked about this was the ambiguity. Unsure whether we're dealing with madness or supernatural agents.

There is a reason why Clive Barker is considered a master of this genre (and I'd argue that he crosses genres effortlessly and subverts them at will). "Coming to Grief" is lyrical, evocative. Miriam's mom has died, and she returns to pack up her home. As the title suggests, this is all about facing death personified in the Bogey on the walk above the quarry. I love the ambiguity – you're never sure whether the Bogey is real or an imagined personification of grief.

As with all anthologies, I suspect different readers will like stories for their own reasons. Not all the tales collected here impacted me, but if you're looking for an eminently readable anthology of dark fiction that will do the job of unsettling you, then I figure the editors have certainly done their job right.

Mass Effect: Andromeda – final verdict

Okay, so this is a follow-up from my review for Mass Effect: Andromeda that I wrote here when I had a fit of pique about aspects of the game that annoyed the ever-living crap out of me.

I haven't really changed my opinion of the game, though granted my first play-through was for the story rather than gameplay. If you're looking for the impact that BioWare stories have that every raves about the earlier games, you're not going to feel it here. I ran with the Jaal romance on this play-through and though there'd been much anticipation about this before the game's release, I was underwhelmed to say the least. And I'm not sufficiently invested in the game to immediately play it afresh but with different romance options like I was with Dragon Age: Inquisition. That says something.

As friends of mine noted, the primary quest for ME:A doesn't take all that long, and it was mostly go to this location, take out a few consoles here, free these peeps, kill that dude, and then GTFO. I think because I was playing the game on casual setting, I missed out on pushing the combat system to its full capabilities, and should I have the time and motivation in the future, I'll most certainly take longer and focus on combat, crafting and technique, and play the game on a harder level ... and take my sweet time with it. Which means I'll probably not play through the entire game again by the time I get bored. Because, let's face it, there's a kind of monotony to every quest in ME:A. I heard folks bitching that Dragon Age: Inquisition was already bloated with fetch quests, but oddly enough they didn't bother me as much as they did in ME:A.

There was a huge lot of frothing about bugs and glitches about the game, and unfortunately my play-through had its fair share. Perhaps the most annoying was the times when saved games bombed the game upon a return between gaming sessions, and if it weren't for the earlier autosaves, I'd have lost entire chunks of gameplay. And yes, there was that bloody annoying permabroke issue with the Nomad. Okay, it's not totally a permabroke thing but for the love of fuck, get all your forwarding stations set up before you spend more time on Elaaden. Don't be like Nerine who needed that forwarding station and ended up trashing three hours of game play because there was no way for her to fix her fucking Nomad. Yes, that made me boiling mad.

What did I enjoy? Okay, once I got used to driving the Nomad vehicle, it was loads of fun. And I really, really enjoyed my Remnant-tech sniper rifle. In fact, should I decide to play this game again, I'm going to focus on building up Rem-tech research points and spend time crafting a sick armour and weapons set-up. There was something seriously satisfying in being out of visible distance and taking out all my enemies before they saw me. [Says she who'll most likely either play mage or archer in RPGs]

What's nice also is that you're not locked down to a character concept. Although I started out as a biotic but then upskilled with more sniping skills. My secondary weapon ended up being an Asari sword. My tactic ended up being sniping as many kills from a safe distance, then going in blasting with biotics and my sword, so that I ended up almost like some crazy-ass Jedi. That was loads of fun.

Team members I opted for eventually were Cora, because of her sick shield boosting, and Jaal because he ended up being real bad-ass back-up for my sniper Ryder. Vetra wasn't bad either, and Drack was perfect for when I needed a serious tank.

The lack of any real consequences to choices was the main issue for me with the story. What Dragon Age got *so* right was the emotional wringer they put me through. When I finished Trespasser I moped for weeks after, cursing a certain bald apostate hobo elf roundly. (I honestly felt as if I'd just been dumped.) And there was That Thing with A Certain Party Member that was a real consequence of action taken during the main game that hit me in the feels so hard I felt really, really horrid.

The only thing that made me feel horrid in ME:A was a decision I made that impacted Drack. Yet even that wasn't as heavy as Varric asking me "Where is Hawke?" during one of my DA:I play-throughs. (And the reason why I never ever leave Hawke in the Fade ever again because fuck I love Varric so much and I don't ever, ever want to do anything to make him cry.)

Can you see what the issue is here? There is none of that passionate "oh my god I love these characters so much I'magonna puke" I get with Dragon Age. I was fond of Drack. Jaal's voice reduced me to a slight quivering in my ladybits, and Cora was like a reboot of Cassandra, which is why I took her with me. Everywhere.

Yes, the terrains are lovely, but the wildlife, such as it was, was much of a muchness. The same fucking little bird critters flying around Elaaden are right there in Havarl. It's like BioWare didn't take much time to create enough variance in the eco-systems to give each planet enough of a stamp of individuality. Yes, they're still fun to roar through, and the fact that the environments start out toxic, makes some of the travel quite challenging, but it all started to feel the same but slightly different flavour. Oh, this planet is freezing, this one's radioactive, this one's got poisonous water...

The theme of a twin Ryder was kinda neat, but I feel from a story-telling side they could have done more with it. Though things did go pretty dire for my Scott Ryder, I never really felt that he was in any true danger, and was a bit disappointed that he couldn't play a more active role in the story. His involvement halfway through felt more like an afterthought than anything else.

Anyhoo, I didn't totally hate ME:A, and it's really not a bad game (and the environments are lush). The multiplayer was pretty fun too, but I am honestly not invested enough in the game to spend any more time on it than I already have. It has replay value but its repetitive nature and fetch quests can become stale quickly.

Western Empires, Christianity and the Inequalities between the West and the Rest by Sampie Terreblanche

Western Empires, Christianity and the Inequalities between the West and the Rest by Sampie Terreblanche is ... well, it's not an easy read. In fact, it's pretty much as hefty and complex as the title suggests. Yet it was one of those books that I felt compelled to dig into because I felt I needed to gain a better understanding of how everything all fits together, especially since I live in a country that has been distorted by the effects of colonialism.

The West has dominated global politics and economics for centuries, and as Terreblanche illustrates, the reasons for this is complex, and most certainly inextricably tangled with a dominant religion, trade and warmongering. For centuries we've swallowed the narrative that a Western culture is somehow superior to those of the the "Rest" as Terreblanche terms the nations that were colonised by the so-called "track-laying powers" of Spain, Holland, Britain and later the USA.

However in order to understand why things transpired as they did, he digs deep, into the history of the East and West, and how different economic models had come into being and what their strengths and weaknesses were, and the world events that happened that would give the West the eventual advantage (hint: it has to do with the plunder of raw materials from Africa and the Americas that led to the eventual destruction of the East's economy thanks to the importation of cheap European fabrics, according to Terreblanche). Yes, the industrial revolution was a key event in world history.

Granted, my own understanding of the complexities of world economics are sketchy at best, and I struggled to get to grips with a lot of the terminology used, but I soldiered on.

According to Terreblanche, Christianity served as a justification for the world powers' military endeavours, and how at different eras, different powers arose (see my earlier comment about the track-laying nations). He points out that globalisation is a part of empire building, and looks at how maritime and military power, as well as the effects of industrialisation, help reinforce the sustainability of the assorted Western imperial powers.

We look at how the West has become what it is due to its plurality, and also the highly competitive behaviour born out of this. The West is grounded in a society that thrives on warfare, and is founded upon it.

Those who have monopoly will use it to oppress – resulting in slaughter, death and dislocation. Terreblanche examines the rise of the nation-state out of city-states and how a nation wielding power does so out of the notion that it does so morally. We see also the hybridisation of culture within a colonial society, and how indigenous populations are often complicit in their exploitation.

Something that I found fascinating was the connections between the four sources of imperial power: political, military, economic and ideological. Gunpowder, printing and the compass were important innovations but Terreblanche also states that private enterprise played a vital role in empire building. Consider also the authoritarian nature of the track-laying nations who built their empires. Modernisation, capitalism and war-making integral to the West. Warfare and imperialism go hand in hand.

Terreblanche looks at how Western empires conquered, subjugated and exploited what he terms the "Restern" world and how asymmetrical power relations lead to unequal growth via mercantilism, industrialisation then post-colonialism. Increased productivity required coercively acquired raw materials and resulted in destruction of local industries. So yes, the slave trade was a very big part of this, and the fact that the industrialised countries scrambled to divvy up the "New World" for their insatiable economy.

Terreblanche exhaustively details a recent world history along these lines, eventually looking at the aftereffects – how many African countries were unprepared for independence. Ruling indigenous elites often used their positions to enrich themselves through the state and the process of decolonisation is, therefore, as destructive as the process of colonisation with poor bureaucracy leading often to armed conflict.

Okay, that's pretty much a *brief* look based on some of the notes I took while reading. As a writer of speculative fiction, this book was incredibly useful to me. It also made me hate the human race just that little bit more too, but it was perhaps one of the most important reads for 2016. Granted, yes, Terreblanche's stance is quite Marxist, but I find I most certainly do agree with him that rampant, unrestrained capitalism is bad for us and the planet overall. And yes, anyone defending colonialism is going to get a serious side-eye from me. However, I will say this much: Colonialism is what it is. We live in a society that is forever altered by its effects, and it's what we do with this knowledge that is important.

This is a difficult read, but perhaps also one that is vitally important, and I wish more people would take an interest in trying to figure out the somewhat daunting bigger picture that Terreblanche has fearlessly painted. I don't think I can fully do this book justice, but I'm still in awe of its depth and breadth.

Rift by SteveGarbage #fanfiction #review

Rift by SteveGarbage over on Fanfiction.net is one of the Dragon Age fics that has grabbed me of late, primarily because the story is just so bloody subversive. While storylines that follow the main plot of Inquisition are a dime a dozen, what sets this one apart is that it's told pretty much from the point of view of the two OCs, Vell, an apostate mage and Taesas, a loyalist who supports Vivienne. Central to the plot is the conflict between the rebels and the loyalists within the mage circles, masterminded by Grand Enchanter Fiona and of course the marvellous Viv many love to hate.

OCs are not easy to pull off in fics, mainly because, well, readers tend to stick with the familiar (or at least that is the case in my experience), and the canon characters very much play second fiddle to Vell and Tae, which gives me wriggles of excitement because it's *awesome* to see the events playing out in Inquisition reframed from the perspective of what can be considered secondary characters. They are not essential to the main storyline and yet their actions *do* impact on the greater scheme of things.

Vell and Tae are both elves, but there their similarities end. Both are independent, free thinkers, though the former frames herself as a rebel while the latter is all about control and playing the Grand Game, and SteveGarbage cleverly subverts their goals and motivations within the expected try/fail cycles. While Vell initially appears to be the stronger of the two, her arrogance gets the better of her eventually, as we see. Tae's own arrogance in his superior discipline eventually shows its cracks too, and at the time of writing this review, he has become quite brittle and somewhat damaged.

What makes this story stand out for me is the skilful way that the author illustrates how well characters play the Grand Game. The intrigue is delicious, to put it mildly. Power play is a central theme, and while there are some sexual encounters that may upset sensitive readers, these were entirely plausible within the context.

SteveGarbage is a rare find for me in the fic circles, and it's clear he knows his stuff in the setting. His writing is crisp, precise and detailed, and for lovers of lore, his stories are a treat. And I'm dying to see how Rift will end.

The Shining (1980) #review

A family heads to an isolated hotel for the winter where an evil and spiritual presence influences the father into violence, while his psychic son sees horrific forebodings from the past and of the future.

I have a terrible admission to make – but better late than never, amiright? I only watched The Shining for the first time this year. Yes. I’ve been lurking around on this planet for more than 30 years and I’d NEVER EVER EVER watched this masterpiece by Stanley Kubrick.

Also, I absolutely loathe Jack Nicholson. I don’t know what it is about him – his face, his voice. I agree he’s a fantastic actor but he makes my flesh crawl and he was perfect for this role as Jack Torrance, the author who simply cannot get into his novel. The true star of this film is his long-suffering wife Wendy, who somehow keeps it all together when everyone else around her is going completely stark-raving bonkers. Little Danny’s premonitions are creepy, but even creepier still is the location.

Kudos to the set dressers and builders – the interiors of the Overlook Hotel are phenomenal and a fitting tribute to all that is awful about late-1970s décor. Kubrick manages to make me feel horrifically claustrophobic and paranoid all at once. Trapped like Jack and his family, we can only sit back and watch how Jack spirals into madness, and we know things aren’t going to end well. All the while poor, dear Wendy comes to realise she needs to get herself and her son out of this place – easier said than done when the inevitable blizzard cuts them off from the rest of this world. And she’s resilient, tenacious, and she’s a mother who’s absolutely terrified beyond all belief yet she just doesn’t give up.

Yep, there are the tropes, like the magical negro and the psychic children tropes, but Kubrick plays them well. Besides, the tormented author with writers’ block is possibly one of the oldest literary tropes in the box.

I’ve heard so many people go on and on about why this film is a pinnacle of its art, and I can see why. Everything holds together – the tension, the dialogue, the characterisation. I’ll be honest and say it’s not my sort of film because I’m a shallow creature with simple tastes for nubile androgynous elves, but I watched it from start to finish without even getting distracted by my social media feeds because it was simply perfection. The horror is at times subtle, be it the growing sense of menace of a toxic environment or it’s overt, shocking in the flashes of atrocities that Kubrick depicts. (Let me not remember that hotel in Ireland where I had to hang my bedspread over the multiple mirrors before I could get to sleep.)

I’m also aware that this film has been picked apart to death by film aficionados who’ve read all sorts of meaning into things, and that in itself is a fascinating topic to delve into if you’ve got time to waste. Go trawl YouTube if you number among the idly curious. And if you’re a sad old fart like me who waited until her late-30s to see this film… I’m just going to shake my head at you. Watch this fucking film. Seriously.

No. I haven't read the fucking book yet. I'll get there. When I'm 50.

What We Do in the Shadows (2014) #reviews

A documentary team films the lives of a group of vampires for a few months. The vampires share a house in Wellington, New Zealand. Turns out vampires have their own domestic problems too.

It’s not often that I’ll laugh until my sides hurt, but directors Jemaine Clement and Taika Waititi pushed all the right buttons for me with their mockumentary What We Do in the Shadows – and I dig vampires, as some of you may already know. I can compare this to The League of Gentlemen meets the vampire genre as we get to know Viago, Vladislav, Deacon, and Petyr, who cohabit in the prerequisite crumbling domicile in the midst of a Wellington suburb in New Zealand. Add their minion (and mum) Jackie to the mix (who clearly has ambitions to be undead) whose work includes procuring and disposing of suitable victims on the off-chance that they'll turn her. (Hint, they're far too comfortable with the status quo.)

Of course their idyll isn’t long-lived, and when one of the vampires accidentally creates a new (modern) vampire, the pecking order is thrown out of kilter, with side-splittingly hilarious consequences. (And of course there are many laughs at the Tweelighters’ expense.)

Okay, the gags are really silly, but if you know your tropes, you’ll end up with a belly ache, like I did. Especially when the werewolves entered stage right… Honestly, I don’t know when last I’d seen a film that was just so much fun (thank you, Netflix). And yeah, this is one I’ll watch again some time in the future. Considering how stolid and unwieldy most of the mainstream cinema fare is nowadays (especially from the US), this is a waft of bloody good (and gory) fun.

There’s not much else to say, other than the fact that the characters were incredibly well put together, and the humour is spot on. So many cringe-worthy awkward, and irreverent situations, but oh so worth it.

Assassin's Apprentice (Farseer Trilogy #1) by Robin Hobb #review

Title: Assassin's Apprentice (Farseer Trilogy #1)
Author: Robin Hobb
Publisher: Voyager, 1996

The first time I read Assassin's Apprentice must've been not long after the book first came out. I took the book out at the library and fair gobbled it down, along with the other books in the trilogy. To put it mildly, Hobb's writing keeps me up way past my bedtime. There are very few authors who can successfully manage that feat.

Yet even though I'd read the first three, I was aware that she'd written not only a second, but was busy with a third trilogy all featuring my dearly beloved Fitz and his friends Nighteyes the wolf and the enigmatic Fool. I simply had to revisit the setting, which meant I wanted to dip into the first trilogy again. Boy oh boy, I felt like I was stepping into that world with fresh eyes, and it was just as an emotive journey as it was before.

In a nutshell (and without giving too much away) this is a story about a young boy who's the bastard son of a king-in-waiting, who is trained to be a royal assassin, to do the king's "quiet work". Of course the events that transpire and the characters one encounters along the way are far more varied and unexpected. This is one of those books where you put your life on hold and live Fitz's life with him as he grows up, navigates the complexities of life at court, which includes a murderous uncle who's eyeing the throne though he's not quite next in line in the succession. To make matters even more pressing, their kingdom is under assault by seaborne raiders – the Outislanders. Fitz never knows a moment of true peace.

Fitz is not only an assassin, but he's also gifted (or cursed, depending on how you look at it) with two forms of magic – the Skill (which allows him to influence men's minds and communicate telepathically) and the Wit (which allows him to communicate and bond with an animal). The former is a magic practised mainly by the reining Farseers and the other is a reviled art that, if he's discovered to be in possession of it, will mean his death.

What makes this world for me is the how Hobb populates it with three-dimensional, authentic (and often quirky) characters whose whose motivations often place them at odds with each other. How the hell she even manages to keep all their timelines straight is absolutely stupefying, because every small clue, *every* detail she writes in, is often vital to the rest of the tale.

Unforgettable characters such as Chade, King Shrewd's older half-brother and master assassin; Burrich the stablemaster, who raises Fitz; Molly Chandler, the secret love of Fitz's heart; the Fool; Lady Patience... I fell in love with all of them, all over again, and getting to know them again made them feel like old, favourite friends.

For those looking for an insta-epic with clearly defined plot and HEA, this might not be the book for you. The storyline feels like real life – messy, inconvenient. Fitz makes many decisions that he'll later regret. There are times when you will want to yell at him to either do or do not ... Oh, and the consequences... Every action has its consequences, and Hobb *doesn't* pull her punches.

The world building is detailed, highly textured and yet again, you feel as if you're *in* the story as opposed to skimming through. I am reminded quite solidly, that this is one of those books that I will recommend to those wishing to get into fantasy for the first time, and that Robin Hobb is a master wordsmith who is partially responsible for having inspired me to tread this path of fantasy author myself. Though I'd read this book before, I feel I gained a lot more detail (and a greater sense of awe at Hobb's skill) the second time round. Who knows, in a decade or so, I'll do it all again.

Don't Film Yourself Having Sex by Emma Sadleir and Tamsyn de Beer #review

Title: Don’t Film Yourself Having Sex
Authors: Emma Sadleir and Tamsyn de Beer
Publisher: Penguin Books, 2014

As the title of this book suggests, it’s full of very useful advice, and as authors Emma Sadleir and Tamsyn de Beer say, please never, ever, ever film yourself having sex. Just don’t do it. Don’t even let your partner tempt you as a way to spice up your kinky time.

To give a little background, Sadleir and De Beer are attorneys and their areas of expertise cover print and electronic media law – so basically, they really know their ins and outs with regard to the use of the internet and social media, and they’ve written this book to give Joe Public the low-down on how to survive the many pitfalls presented by the internet.

While many of us would hesitate to say or do nasty things to people to their face, social media and our many electronic devices, be they smartphones, tablets or computers, offer us the illusion of immunity.

Ask yourself this: how many times have you jumped on a self-righteous bandwagon when there’s been some sort of social justice issue becoming the flavour of the week? Have you stopped and thought about whether anything you’ve said or posted could possibly create serious backlash? You might lose your job or, even worse, tarnish your reputation. Once an event has gone viral on social media, it sticks. There’s no way to truly dislodge it, and its effects can ripple out and affect you for years afterwards.

Essentially, Sadleir and De Beer talk about how we communicate, and how our methods have changed so rapidly over the past few years. (They’ll even share some of those pesky abbreviations in a way that isn’t tl;dr.) Much of what they discuss is pretty darn serious, but they keep the tone of their cautionary tales light, and set out the sharing of the information in an often funny, tongue-in-cheek way that often had me laughing out loud. This is the sort of book you can buy your aged father or get your teenage daughter to read. And, in fact, I suggest you do. And omfg, please don’t ever joke on Twitter about planting a bomb at an airport. Just don’t go there.

The Hawley Book of the Dead by Chrysler Szarlan #review

Title: The Hawley Book of the Dead
Author: Chrysler Szarlan
Publisher: Century, 2014

From the glitz, glitter, and make-believe of Las Vegas, to the mysterious forests of Massachusetts, The Hawley Book of the Dead plunges readers into a world where the lines between make believe and true magic are difficult to distinguish in the lives of Revelation Dyer and her family.

Reve has always had the knack to disappear at will; in fact, all the women in her family seem to be possessed of some sort of power. Yet when her magician husband Jeremy is killed during their Las Vegas show, she is powerless to stop this tragedy from occurring.

She’s soon convinced that Jeremy’s death was no accident, and when it’s suggested that she return to her family home of Hawley Five Corners in Massachusetts for her and her daughters’ safety, Reve packs up her life and embarks on a complete change of pace – and the hope that she can untangle a skein of mysteries related to her family’s past and a mysterious, magical journal that holds many secrets.

The Hawley Book of the Dead is a tactile story that engages the senses, from the ground up to the very characters who inhabit its pages. Author Chrysler Szarlan succeeds in evoking a world that blurs at the edges, and where past and present and other realms mingle in unexpected ways.

This is a story about a woman’s overcoming grief and coming into power, as she steps across the boundaries that separate her safe reality from a wilder, deeper magic that has always been her heritage. Reve must face an ancient enemy, who seeks to control her, and she doesn’t have the luxury of time in which she can learn to harness her legacy. Yet the Hawley Book of the Dead isn’t fast-paced; it grows slowly, organically, to give readers a vivid sense of people and place. It is the special sort of novel that refuses to fit snugly in any of the existing literary niches, which makes it all the more enchanting.

Beastkeeper by Cat Hellisen #review

Title: Beastkeeper
Author: Cat Hellisen
Publisher: Henry Holt and Co, 2015

One thing that Cat Hellisen does in her stories is immediately sweep readers away into her worlds that feel so tangible they might just exist on the very edge of our own, and this is the case with Beastkeeper. Though the story is aimed at children, and at a glance it’s a re-envisioning of "Beauty and the Beast", it’s very much appropriate for those of us who’re young of heart, and there was much here that spoke to me as an adult.

Sarah’s parents have never set down roots, and she’s spent all the years of her short life constantly moving to new towns and new schools. Consequently, she’s a lonely child and doesn’t have any friends. Her parents are everything to her, so when her mother leaves the family one night, she is devastated. To add to her burden, her father falls apart at the seams too, and it’s up to Sarah to keep things together – going to school and ensuring that the household limps along.

She finds refuge in her “Not-a-Forest”, a small vacant lot where she meets a strange boy, who may or may not become a friend – only he knows more than he’s letting on. She doesn’t have time to find out, however, as her father packs their life up and takes Sarah to go stay with her grandparents, who live in a run-down castle in the middle of a menacing forest. Here she discovers how her family has existed under a curse for years, and that she and her father are also trapped within the cycle of maleficent magic.

We follow Sarah as she tries to unravel the knots of hatred and obsession that have poisoned her grandparents and destroyed the lives of her parents, but in order to do so, she needs to be brave and travel through some truly dark places.

As always, Hellisen seems to effortlessly touch on the universality of fairy tales to delve even deeper and bring up underlying themes. One one level, this is a children’s quest to break a curse. On another, it’s a parable of how twisted love has soured to hate and indifference, and how one young person can find it in herself to step outside the trap of a destructive cycle. This is a dark, painful and elegant tale, made all the more beautiful, because Hellisen weaves with mystery and doesn’t hand over all the answers on a plate.

The Time Keeper by Mitch Albom #review

Title: The Time Keeper
Author: Mitch Albom
Publisher: Sphere, 2012

So far as basic premises go, The Time Keeper is exactly as it states – we are introduced to three primary characters who are fixated on time. Dor lives during an earlier age, before time keeping is invented, and from his childhood he is engaged in activities in involving the measuring of the passage of time. It is through his scientific, rational approach that he is able to predict events, and his quest for knowledge also bizarrely sees him punished. God assigns him the role of Father Time, locked away in a cave for 6 000 years, where he has to listen to the plaintive voices of those who cry out for more or less time.

Sarah Lemon has never been popular – and now that she’s discovered a lad who may be interested in her, she feels that time is passing too fast. Yet as we reach the conclusion of her unhappy story arc, we see that she does not, in fact, value time at all. She is the stereotypical plump, nerdy girl.

Our third viewpoint character is Victor Delamonte, a wealthy businessman who has just been informed that his cancer is terminal. Deep in his eighties, he has a gnawing sense of too much left undone. His problem is that his time is running out. He simply does not have enough time to still do all the things he wants.

With three characters’ lives to follow, and the constant jumping between the viewpoints, The Time Keeper offers readers a choppy narrative that makes it difficult to connect with Dor, Sarah and Victor. If the book had, perhaps, been longer, it might have been easier for me to invest emotionally and care more what happened to the three.

As for why Dor was punished for measuring time, when his actions were never implicitly stated as being sinful, also puzzles me. And, as such, his reasoning for selecting Sarah and Victor as his two subjects to help at the end of his incarceration also mystifies me. Neither are very likeable, and so far as characterisation goes, they are rather two-dimensional, to the point of coming across as clichés.

Overall, this is not a bad little book, if you’re the sort who enjoys inspirational fables, but unfortunately I am not that reader. All throughout I found myself wanting the story to get to some sort of profound realisation. Which it did not. Instead I felt annoyed and preached at, because the author’s intentions were so glaringly obvious from the get go until the novel reached its Dickensian conclusion. That being said, each reader unto his or her own. If you don’t mind a saccharine story that aims to teach you about not taking time for granted, then this one may possibly give you the warm fuzzies.

The Great God Pan by Arthur Machen #review #horror

Title: The Great God Pan
Author: Arthur Machen

My first encounter with Arthur Machen’s writing was in a (now) quaint selection of classic horror, and from my meanderings in the interwebz, his name just keeps cropping up. He’s considered one of the grandpappies of authentically modern horror, and knowing what I do about HP Lovecraft, it’s clear Machen had a huge influence on the man.

Those who’re into their esoteric vibe will also recognise Machen in connection to the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn courtesy of AE Waite – the two were buddies. Also, the Great Beast himself was quite the fan of Machen, among others. (Though apparently Machen didn’t think much of Mr Crowley.)

Since I’m on a trip of digging deeper into the source material for so much of our modern genre fiction, Machen has been top of my TBR list for a while now, and I’m really glad that I’ve finally had the opportunity to read The Great God Pan.

For those of you not in the know, Project Gutenberg is a valuable resource as a digital library, and this is where you can go pick up your copy of The Great God Pan for free. If you’re feeling especially benevolent, do consider donating to this worthy organisation that strives to keep public domain works available.

The Great God Pan is a novella that has been described as fitting into the decadent horror genre of the late 1800s, and there’s quite a bit going on here. First off, Machen’s love of the natural world and its beauty shines through the prose. His descriptions are vivid – deft without being heavy handed. Also to consider is the theme of the content which in present times might be construed as being misogynistic. One must bear in mind that a story shouldn’t be judged through a contemporary lens, especially if one considers that the concept of a sexually liberated woman during the Victorian era could only have been viewed quite literally as the Devil’s handmaiden by many.

The underlying theme is clear: Man cannot comprehend the full magnificence that is nature, and to do so will drive him completely mad. In the novella, three men are left to untangle the threads of a mystery when scientific experiment goes wrong. An enigmatic young woman is taken advantage of by a doctor, and this cruel procedure gives rise to a great force that enthrals men and leads them to suicidal despair.

An alchemy of spirit made flesh takes place, for which our rational Victorian gentlemen are ill prepared. Machen touches on the concept of divinely inspired ecstasy at the heart of ancient pagan practices long forgotten – and our inability in modern times to come to terms with these primal aspects of our natures.

Colossus by Alexander Cole #military #historical #review

Title: Colossus
Author: Alexander Cole
Publisher: Corvus, 2014

Many great stories begin when an author asks “What if…” and Colossus by Alexander Cole is one of those. In this case, Cole’s question is: “What if Alexander the Great survives an attempt on his life in 323 BC?” and we go from there, as Alexander casts his eye towards Carthage and, eventually, Europe.

Central to the story is the role Alexander’s war elephants play in this alternative history, which is told primarily from the viewpoints of Gajendra, who starts out as merely an elephant boy, and Mara, the daughter of the Carthaginian general Hanno. The elephant, Colossus, is as his name suggests, massive, and only Gajendra can control him. This enigmatic beast also displays quirks, which make for quite a number of fascinating scenes; in fact I would have loved to have seen more involving the pachyderms.

Gajendra is ambitious, and will go to great lengths to prove his worth. His work with the war elephants lends Alexander a great advantage in battle, and he soon enjoys a meteoric rise within the ranks of the army. This does not, however, come without cost. Alexander is painted out as a capricious, often fickle man, who is prone to discarding his favourites at whim as fast as he elevates them in status. Gajendra’s success may well prove ephemeral.

Mara has suffered great personal loss and seeks solace as a priestess of the goddess Tanith. When Carthage falls, Mara must disguise herself as a boy in order to avoid the inevitable fate many women suffer during war times. Her path crosses Gajendra’s and though their friendship is far from smooth, their dynamics are nonetheless engaging.

While this novel is mostly military fiction, with focus on tactics, there are some romantic elements. I found myself almost unconsciously wanting to compare this to the writings of Mary Renault, in which case Cole’s prose falls short of that benchmark. Cole’s decision to write in third person present tense is jarring at times, the narration clunky; the overall offering could have been a bit more polished.

That being said, this is still an enjoyable tale and is filled with interesting characters (including a little person, which should please fans of Tyrion Lannister), as well as plenty of action. Lovers of historical and military fiction will be in for a perfectly satisfying read.

Betrayal's Shadow by Dave-Brendon de Burgh #fantasy #review

Title: Betrayal’s Shadow (book one of the Mahaelian Chronicles)
Author: Dave-Brendon de Burgh
Publisher: Fox & Raven, 2014

Exciting things are happening for genre fiction in South Africa. Not only are locals making waves overseas, but we can now celebrate yet another fantasy author to make his debut. Betrayal’s Shadow is book one of Pretoria-based Dave-Brendon de Burgh’s Mahaelian Chronicles. In addition to this, he has also released a prequel short story, A Song of Sacrifice, which is available electronically.

Much like Steven Erikson’s epics, which De Burgh cites as among his influences, the story is told by a large cast of assorted characters. We are introduced to High General Brice Serholm; the Blade Knight Alun; the royal courtesan Seira; the Elvayn Khyber; scheming mastermind Cobinian; King Jarlath, who possesses near godlike powers – but at a price; and Del’Ahrid, an ambitious first advisor to the king.

Throw all these folks together and you have the ingredients for a suitably violent, intrigue-soaked plot. All characters have ambitions and secrets, which lead them into conflict as a bigger, ages-old saga plays itself out.

De Burgh throws readers right into the thick of things – a quality I appreciate, considering the fantasy genre’s tendency to indulge in exposition. Readers are faced with events that transpire after a war between humans and an elf-like, magic-wielding race known as the Elvayn. The latter have been reduced to slave status, but King Jarlath has plans for them, which may not be to the liking of those who prefer the status quo.

Battle-scarred Alun and young Khyber must both learn to work with their powers, for each has a role to play, and greater threat to face when the zombie-esque Reavers make their first appearance. For those who’d like a little back story, do pick up the prequel, which will help clarify events occurring in book one.

While De Burgh is definitely a South African voice in fantasy to keep an eye on, both novel and prequel could have benefitted from more stringent editing, not only to catch a number typos, but perhaps also to develop some of the characters further. At times I felt his writing flowed a bit too fast, which begged for deeper insights into characters’ motivations, especially with the large cast in this book.

That being said, this is still a worthy read, which should appeal to those who enjoy epic fantasy with a high body count, mounting tension and a fascinating setting.