Artemis Fowl: The Arctic Incident (Eoin Colfer)

In this second book of the series, Artemis sets out to rescue his father from Russian gangsters, but gets drawn into an attempted coup down in the fairy world when Captain Short, his nemesis from the first book, thinks at first he's behind it. It is full of the fun elements from the first book - very smart centaurs, very stupid goblins, wicked villains with plans for world domination, and Artemis, the boy genius. Tons of fun. I enjoyed it, and will keep reading the series. It's interesting, though - the first book in the series I listened to during a long car trip, and I found myself missing the lovely accents as I read the words. I may choose to listen to the next book, instead of reading it in text.

Redshirts (John Scalzi)

This delightful book is hilarious, geeky, and still emotionally moving. Scalzi asks what it would be like to be living in a badly-written ripoff of Star Trek. Why are away missions so deadly for lower-deck folks while the main officers are rarely hurt and never killed? Why do bridge consoles keep exploding, no matter how often the circuits are checked? Why is it that decks 6-12 take damage in every attack, but never any of the other decks? How do they keep finding scientifically impossible solutions to problems, and always just moments before they are needed? The heroes find their own scientifically impossible solution to their dilemma, one that is mind-bending and convoluted and just crazy enough (and funny enough) to work. Then there are several codas and other appropriately off-kilter bits of things that bring it all to a satisfying conclusion. (I think I know who Jimmy Hanson really is. As one of the character says, "that would be recursive and meta.")

Heartless (Gail Carriger)

I'm still enjoying this series, but this fourth book didn't quite live up to the standards of the previous three. Alexia is still as strong-willed and outrageous as ever, but not as quick-witted, perhaps because she is so thoroughly pregnant. It took her over 200 pages to figure out something I had seen right away. The delightful turns of phrase and thrilling adventure are still there, but slightly diluted. Here's hoping the next installment - Timeless - is back on track.

Shadow Woman (Thomas Perry)

A worthy third novel in the Jane Whitefield series. Jane has decided to quit her occupation of making people disappear, but there is one last job she has to do. Pete Hatcher is a hapless middle manager in a Las Vegas casino who has suddenly become the target of some very scary professional assassins, and he has turned to Jane for a way out. As usual, it winds up being more difficult than she ever expected, and nearly costs not only her life but the lives of people she cares about. She is victorious, though, because she is tough and smart and uses the opportunities offered to her. I hope her future life goes well.

The Rapture of the Nerds (Cory Doctorow & Charles Stross)

It is years after the singularity, and most of humanity has abandoned Earth and meatspace and uploaded itself to the cloud, living a virtual life. Huw is one of those who remained behind, rejecting not only a cybernetic existence but even electricity and telecommunication. So at first he is happy to have been selected to serve on a jury that evaluates new technologies thrown up by the post-humans in the cloud, but it turns out that he has been infected by something that is using his body for its own purposes. He winds up on a grand tour of the many different ways of being human, from violently fundamentalist to the expanded consciousness of the cloud, and in the end the fate of the entire solar system rests on him. I have enjoyed the smart, geeky works by Stross before, but not Cory Doctorow so much, and this one didn't really work for me. Although Huw is central to resolving some major crises, the primary tool he (or sometimes she) uses is avoidance. I like my protagonists to be more actively involved in solving problems, not throwing temper tantrums. I also tended to lose the convoluted threads of the plot sometimes. I suppose I am not uplifted enough for this novel.

I'll Have What She's Having (Alex Bentley, Mark Earls, and Micael O'Brien)

This look at the important processes of social learning and social influence could have been more engaging than it was. Their primary point, that ideas diffuse and society progresses as people copy new ideas and the latest trends from each other, is undeniable. I was unconvinced, though, by their attempt to formalize this landscape. They talked about idea cascades, about directed and undirected copying, about the "long tail" of choices in many domains, and so on, but for me it never really came together. I came out of this knowing no more about social influence, and understanding no more deeply, than I did going in.

The Sense of an Ending (Julian Barnes)

The author of this small novel creates a dense and honest portrayal of the life of an ordinary man who is, as he says, at the end of his life; "no, not life itself, but of something else: the end of any likelihood of change in that life." He was pleasantly married, gently divorced. He has a daughter who keeps in touch distantly and grandchildren he rarely meets. He has a complaisant view of himself and his ordinary place in life, and a memory of an ordinary youth that includes two unusual people: Adrian, the brilliant young man he went to school with, and Veronica, the difficult young woman he he dated for a while. Now, as he settles into a bland  old age, these people come back in their various ways to haunt him and throw him off his rails. I admit to being confused at the end, and think it  would have been a splendid idea if Veronica had actually talked to him instead of just telling him over and over that he didn't get it, but the writing is clear and engrossing. I enjoyed it.

Inside Jokes (Matthew Hurley, Daniel Dennett, Reginald Adams)

The authors describe a very interesting theory as to the function and importance of humor, and why only humans seem to display it. What the human mind is best at is the very rapid and risky development of predictions and expectations, based on heuristics and unconscious ideas about the world. If there were no mechanism for checking those expectations to remove the ones that proved to be incorrect, we would become less and less effective as incorrect assumptions built up. Therefore we need to spend time looking for inconsistencies and discrepancies. What will motivate us to devote precious time and mental effort to doing this? There has to be some internal reward - and mirth is that reward. Evolution has set up this reward system to get us to do what we need to do. I find the theory interesting and think it has a lot of merit. I have to say, though, that what I enjoyed most about the book was the jokes!

Idoru (William Gibson)

This complex near-future tale entwines media and celebrity with technology and the Internet in unexpected ways, but it still feels familiar. Much of the story takes place in a post-earthquake Tokyo; the rest in various virtual venues. Gibson, who invented (or at least named) cyberspace, brings it home to a 14-year-old fangirl and a disgraced former data analyst. They are both linked with a rock star beloved by pubescent girls around the world when he announces that he intends to marry an idoru - a synthetic AI with her own career in music. She is not actually a person, but instead is a corporate creation designed to appeal to fans, but somehow she has become much more, and their intention to marry has created a firestorm into which smugglers, Russian mobsters, media moguls, and ex-felon bodyguards have all been drawn. I enjoyed the ride.

In the Neighborhood (Peter Lovenheim)

My book club was interested in this book because it's local; we are all from around Rochester, NY, and some of us live in Brighton, though none on the street that is the focus of this book. The author is disturbed when a murder-suicide happens in his quiet, well-to-do neighborhood, and reflects on the fact that nobody on the street really knew the victim and she had no one there to turn to. This book describes his idiosyncratic attempt to overcome the barriers between neighbors by introducing himself to people and asking if, as an author, he could get to know them, shadow them for a whole day, and even stay overnight in their homes. A few people said yes, and he was able to build a tiny community among a few of his neighbors. On the other hand, the link between a general lack of community on a street like this one, with imposing homes on huge lots, and the death of the murder victim was forced. She did know her next-door neighbors well enough so that her children knew to go there when something went wrong. She just didn't really believe her husband was going to kill her until it was too late. And the community he built was tiny and temporary. Was it worth it? With the communities we all build among more distant folks, is it really important that you be good friends with your next door neighbor? We weren't as convinced as he was.

Strip (Thomas Perry)

I've really enjoyed his Jane Whitefield books, but this one didn't work as well for me. It is that form of humor where nobody  is really likable, which I guess gives the author the freedom to do outrageous things to them. I don't like a book, though, where there's nobody I can see as a good guy. I need someone to root for, and some way to feel that there's a happy ending. This book has neither. The aging owner of several strip clubs in LA is robbed by a masked man. There's some minor suggestion implicating someone who turns out to be innocent, so he sends his goons to kill him. The man fights back, and along the way lots of people wind up dead or cheated. I stuck with it to the end, but it left a bitter taste.

Dance for the Dead (Thomas Perry)

This second book in the Jane Whitefield series is even better than the first. The story begins with Jane helping to protect a little boy against the forces that want him dead for unknown reasons. As Jane keeps fighting for him, she gets involved with a second client, who needs to get away from men who want to kidnap her, also for unknown reasons. As she peels away the layers of deception and greed, she gets to a central enemy whose stunning brutality is threatening them both and, eventually, Jane herself. My only disappointment in this story is that the climactic scene is not shown from Jane's perspective. This heightens the suspense, but I did miss the chance to watch her mind work. She is an amazingly smart, principled, kick-ass woman, a hero for everyone of any gender.

Blameless (Gail Carriger)

This series maintains its level of wit for a third book. Alexia is as stubborn, resourceful, and funny as ever as she battles vampires and Templars in her attempt to prove that, unconventional though she may be, unfaithful she has never been.The only disappointment is that, while we get to see both Alexia and her werewolf husband throughout the story, we don't get more than a glimpse of them together. I can definitely picture this series as the basis for some terrific movies.

The Flame Alphabet (Ben Marcus)

This is an brilliant, disturbing book about language becoming toxic. It starts with the words of children (specifically Jewish children) poisoning their parents, then all children poisoning all adults, and finally all language poisoning all adults; only children remain immune. What would the world  be like if  hearing someone speak, or reading words, or speaking or writing yourself, made you physically ill? What if exposure to language gave you seizures and even killed you? Can people even survive without language? What would you do, who would you hurt, if it meant you could speak again, or hear the voice of your child once more? These are some of the questions this story raises, but doesn't answer. It definitely made me think, but I can't say I enjoyed it. Its level of existential pain made me squirm, and I'm sure that was what the author intended.

Altered Carbon (Richard Morgan)

This blend of cyberpunk SF and hardboiled noir detective novel worked for me. Although I sometimes lost the thread of a very complex plot with lots of characters, the strength of the main characters and the fascinating action kept me engaged. Kovacs is a man with many special skills, including guns, martial arts, empathy bordering on psi, and conditioning to deal with blood-freezing torture others would need years of therapy to get over. He is bloodthirsty but also has a core of loyalty and compassion. He lives in a world where people's personal identity can be stored indefinitely and downloaded with ease into a new body, either a synthetic one or one from whom someone else's personality has been extracted. He was put in storage for committing what others defined as a crime, and wakes up on another planet in a strange body, revived by an ancient man of limitless wealth to solve his murder. Along the way he meets whores, drug dealers, prize fighters, cynical police officers, and gangster bosses: all the familiars of detective stories, weirdly morphed by the future they live in. There is a lot of violence, but there's a central humanity that kept it from becoming too dark for me.

Heft (Liz Moore)

This is a lovely story, alternately heartbreaking and heartwarming, unflinching and touching. Arthur was wounded years ago when a delicate romance fell apart, and withdrew into a cocoon. He has not left his home in many years, even to step outside, but spends his time watching TV and eating. His only comfort is letters he exchanges with his old flame, in which he lies about his life. Kel is a high-school senior whose father left when he was four and whose mother is sinking into alcohol and mental illness, and who cares about nothing so much as sports. Their lives are linked, though they don't know it. Each is wounded but perhaps not broken; each is rescued in unexpected ways. I loved it.

Ready Player One (Ernest Cline)

This is a story for young adults, focusing on a massively multiplayer online game, that I really enjoyed. The protagonist is a young man in a bleak future world where the environment, the economy, and the nation are all falling apart, but at least there is this really wonderful online world you can go to where things are much better. The creator of this world has just died, and left all his billions to whoever can solve a series of puzzles using clues he buried inside the world. Because the popular culture of the 1980s was his passion, all the games and clues are based on comic books, video games, TV shows, and movies of that era, so it's a lot of fun for those of us who remember that decade! The antagonist in the story is pretty cardboard: an evil multinational corporation bent on stifling all individuality and turning the game world into a cash cow, and not above torture and murder to get the prize. On the other hand, the protagonist and his friends are rather amazingly good. Still, I enjoyed the action and the rapid-fire cultural references. Fun!

Unseen Academicals (Terry Pratchett)

More Discworld zaniness. A long-forgotten rule says that the Unseen University, where magicians in Ankh-Morpork train, must field a team to play the traditional game of foot and ball, something very distantly related to football (or soccer, for American readers). The magicians are not known for their athletic prowess, but fortunately there is an odd young man in the cellar who has strange abilities, perhaps including skill at football.  Actually, two young men in the cellar. And two very unusual cooks in the kitchen as well. It all comes out well in the end, as these stories generally do, but with many unexpected turns along the way. Very enjoyable.

For the Win (Cory Doctorow)

I didn't hate this book, but I gave up halfway through. It is about the gold farmers in online games - people, generally poor people in developing countries, who work long hours inside the games gathering treasure or leveling-up characters so that their bosses can sell them to rich, lazy players who don't want to work for their status. In the entire book (so far anyway) there is nobody we meet who is actually playing any of these games for fun. They are all either downtrodden, oppressed workers or cruel, tyrannical bosses. I know the book was written for a young-adult market, but even so this level of oversimplification was too much for me. That's not even to mention the frequent lengthy passages lecturing on economics, in the world and in the games. It is all one big sermon on the importance of unions, which is appropriate for Labor Day Weekend, I guess, but I've had enough now.

The Forever War (Joe Haldeman)

This is a classic, from 1974, but it is still compelling. The central character is one of the first drafted into interstellar war in the early 2005, and with all the relativistic time-dilation effects, he makes it to the end of the war in 3143. Along the way technology and human nature both change, but he remains much the same, giving the reader a consistent viewpoint with which to view time going by. It is a combination of war story, with high-casualty battles and high-tech weaponry (with few false steps to remind us that it was written before ubiquitous computers and the Internet), and social commentary. I enjoyed it a lot.

Snuff (Terry Pratchett)

Sam is dragged away on a vacation in the country by his determined wife, away from his beloved city streets, and anticipates two weeks of mind-numbing boredom until his sensitive cop's nose detects a whiff of crime. Before he has unraveled the whole sordid ball of string, he has been proved a hero yet again, on land and sea, solved crimes of murder and smuggling, and helped to recognize an entire new race of sapient creatures. Just his kind of vacation!  In the hilarious, fantastical world that is Discworld, the subset of Sam Vines books put less emphasis on madcap hijinks and more on an examination of what it means to be a good cop in a chaotic world. Not to imply that there isn't plenty of hilarity to go around! Still, much of the story is about how to make things right within the law. I enjoyed it quite a lot.

Vanishing Act (Thomas Perry)

It's interesting to read a novel where some scenes take place here in Rochester, on streets I often drive! The story centers on a woman, native to the Seneca tribe, who works as a guide - helping people disappear. Her clients include woman escaping abusive spouses and small-time criminals who run afoul of big-time ones. In this story, she helps an ex-policeman who is being framed for embezzlement, but as events unfold we find that not everything is what it seems. She is smart and committed and resourceful and skilled, and I enjoyed the book very much.

Changeless (Gail Carriger)

This second story (a novel of vampires, werewolves, and dirigibles) is as interesting and charming as the first (Soulless). Alexia is just a strong-willed, unpredictable, and quirky as ever, as she works to discover what is behind a mysterious force that strips the supernatural of their powers and makes them simply human again. Alexia, of course, does this herself, but does it one-on-one with direct touch. Whatever is going on now covers all the supernatural creatures in a large region. In the process of solving this mystery, Alexia learns more about her husband's past, and at the end her life is overturned. Now I have to read the next book in the series!

Practical Magic (Alice Hoffman)

Women in the Owens family have been accused of being witches forever. Two sisters who grew up in the home of their witchy aunts both move out, but they can't leave behind their ties to the magic of their birthrights. They both have trouble dealing with love and relationships, though their lives couldn't  be more different. Gillian takes off as a teen, marrying multiple times but never getting tied down, while sensible widowed Sally is raising her two daughters as responsibly as she can, feeding them nutritious vegetarian meals and making sure they are never late to school. They are brought together again by tragedy, and have to find ways to reconcile their hopes, dreams, fears, and traumas. I loved the sensitive, beautiful story telling and the flashes of magic that seem to hide just out of most people's vision.

Artemis Fowl (Eoin Colfer)

This audio book kept me company on a long car trip, and I loved every minute! Artemis Fowl is a 12-year-old genius, the only child in a very wealthy family operating on the fringes of the law (and often over the edge). After his father disappears, his mother becomes unhinged, and the family fortune is diminished, Artemis and his loyal bodyguard Butler embark on a complex plot to restore that fortune: kidnapping a fairy to extort gold as her ransom. This fairy is a trained operative in the fairy military, and the entire force of fairy might is focused on getting her back and defeating Artemis. The story is delightfully inventive, with unexpected but entirely logical twists and turns, and led to a surprisingly satisfying conclusion. I will definitely read more.

Death on Demand (Carolyn Hart)

This light mystery is set in a bookstore on an island, and the central murder takes place in a mystery book store at a gathering of local mystery writers. It is a classic locked-room murder: the lights go out, and when they come back on one is dead and all the rest are suspects. There is no shortage of motives, but the local police single out the main character as their primary suspect, so she naturally must go about solving the crime herself, with her convenient love interest. I didn't find the plot convincing or the characters especially engaging, and don't feel that the final reveal had been established well enough, but it was still pleasant to read. I probably won't look for more in the series, though.

Soulless (Gail Carriger)

This "novel of vampires, werewolves, and parasols" is delightful fun. It is set in a version of Victorian London in which vampires and werewolves are socially recognized classes of people who hold lordships, gather in gentlemen's clubs, and serve on Her Majesty's council. A few rare individuals are born without souls and are immune to these night people, so that their touch turns them back into ordinary humans. Alexia faces this London with several handicaps: her father was Italian, and dead. She herself is tan of skin, large of nose, and unmarriageable -- and soulless. She is also intelligent, strong-willed, cheeky, and great fun to be around. I enjoyed this story a lot, and will read more.

Steve Jobs (Walter Isaacson)

This is the biography of a man who was brilliant, arrogant, sensitive, brutal, charismatic, delusional...a man of contradictions. There is little doubt that Apple is successful because of Steve Jobs. It is also true that he hurt the people around him, mostly deliberately, often with no real reason. He saw the world, including people, in absolute black and white terms: everything, and everyone, was either intolerably awful or amazingly wonderful, often alternately within hours. He had an overarching vision of technology, believing throughout his career in the importance of controlling the user's experience from end to end. He also meddled in every tiny detail of his products, from the precise shade of blue for the shell of the iMac to the finish on the screws inside the unit. Love him or hate him (or both), it is hard to read this story without sheer fascination.

The Body in the Transept (Jeanne Dams)

A pleasant murder mystery in the cozy style. An American widow, recently moved to a small English town, is the first to find the body of the canon in the local cathedral, and dives into solving the mystery of his murder. The canon was universally disliked, which makes for a fine range of suspects, and her persistence in asking questions makes her a target as well. The story is lightweight and ultimately unconvincing; I never felt the sense of danger that such a story really needs. I also didn't feel that all the clues were there for me to have figured out the murderer when she did, though she had basically ruled everyone else out. Not bad, but not good enough for me to want to read more in the series.

Dandelion Wine (Ray Bradbury)

I picked this up after hearing that it was a favorite of several astronauts in the US space program, and thought it might be one of his science fiction works. Instead, it is a poetic, sentimental portrait of what it is like for a boy in a typical midwest small town in one splendid summer in 1928. Lots of things happen, including the natural death of a neighbor and some murders, the accusation that a pillar of the community is a witch, and a good friend moving away, so it is not all perfect, but there is also fireworks and apples and new sneakers. Everything is bottled away in shelves of homemade dandelion wine. The writing is lovely, but the philosophy a little too heavy-handed for my taste. Still, it was enjoyable.

A Game of Thrones (George R. R. Martin)

Many of my friends are obsessed with this series, so I finally read the first book. It is certainly exciting, and the world Martin has built is dense and complex. In an imaginary medieval world, the king of the Seven Kingdoms has married a daughter of the rival house of the Lannisters, who plots for power, while in the far North, beyond the Wall, winter is coming with death and dark magic. At first I had trouble keeping all the people straight, but before long they were all distinct and interesting, each with his or her own strengths and weaknesses, purity and corruption, and a clear voice. I can't say I loved it, and I'm certainly not obsessed (I don't feel the need to read the next book right away); the focus is too much on the soap opera and the political intrigues for my taste. Still, I admire the skill that went into creating it.

Lunatics (Dave Barry & Alan Zweibel)

I have loved Dave Barry's other books, both his essay collections and his novels, but this one I didn't like. Perhaps it was the influence of his co-author. Perhaps it is a change in my own perspective. In any case, the humor here seemed forced and mean-spirited, compared with the self-deprecating joy in the zaniness of life of his other works. This book brings together two unlikely allies: a foul-mouthed, bigoted nut job and a Prius-driving, politically-correct pet store owner. They become embroiled in an increasingly far-fetched series of adventures, starting with a kidnapped lemur and stolen insulin pump and escalating from there to police officers shot in helicopters, thugs mauled by bears, naked nuns falling overboard, and on and on. It didn't work for me.

Reamde (Neal Stephenson)

Wow.  This book is massive (1042 pages in hard cover) but it never slows down. I was about a third of the way through when I realized is was expecting it to end shortly because it felt like the grand climax. After that, it just kept ratcheting the intensity higher and higher. Reamde is the name of a computer virus designed to siphon cash out of players in a hugely popular multiplayer world. The virus triggers a sequence of events dragging in the developer of this world, his niece, Russian mobsters, Islamic terrorists, Chinese hackers and a tea distributor, American fundamentalists, M16 agents, and sundry others before all is done. The plot is insanely complicated and intricately worked out, and it grabbed me by the throat and wouldn't let go. If you like thrillers with lots of intelligent characters, and lots of detail about computers, guns, boats, and undercover operations, you will love this one.

The Windup Girl (Paolo Bacigalupi)

In the future, genetic modification, climate change, and short-sighted agricultural policy have caused the world food supply to crash. Bangkok is a city under siege, with giant levees to keep out the ocean and strong barriers to keep out unnatural things - including windups. These "New People" are genetically designed and creche-grown, and one of them ends up abandoned in Bangkok when her Japanese owner tires of her. She is just one of the people trying to survive in this dystopian future. Others are a calorie man, secretly working for an American company making its money providing food to starving people. One is a displaced Chinese man whose family all died in a wave of riots in Malaysia. One is an official taking seriously the attempt to keep dangerous products out of the city, and his unsmiling assistant. How these various people deal with the corruption, physical and psychological, that surrounds them makes for a complex and moving story.

State of Wonder (Ann Patchett)

This story, appropriately enough, reads like something from a dark fever dream. Marina is a pharmacologist in Minnesota working for a drug company that is sponsoring a team in the Amazon river basin working on developing a revolutionary new drug. The team has been there for years, soaking up research funds  and providing nothing in return aside from assurances they are making progress. One of Marina's colleagues was sent down to press the team for more details, but word has come back that he died of a fever. Marina goes to Brazil to find out how he died and what he had learned, going deeper and deeper into an exotic world she is unprepared for. I was completely caught up in the story and the environment, though at times I felt like shouting at Marina about decisions she was making and I came away with too many unanswered questions. The writing is vivid and lyrical and it all feels real, oppressively real, even when it is at its most bizarre. Highly recommended.

A Clue for the Puzzle Lady (Parnell Hall)

This is a charming, light little mystery, pleasant enough, without much in the way of depth. The mystery itself is interesting, though one big question never seems to be answered. A young girl is found murdered in a graveyard in sleepy little Bakerhaven with a clue in her pocket that seems to relate to a crossword puzzle, so the police recruit the aid of the Puzzle Lady, author of a nationally syndicated crossword puzzle column, and things start happening from there. There are enough side plots and red herrings to satisfy anyone. I enjoyed it, but it wasn't entirely satisfying.

Throne of the Crescent Moon (Saladin Ahmed)

While touching most of the themes of classic fantasy - a magic throne with secret powers, dark wizardry drawing its power from pain and fear, holy warriors bound by sacred oaths - Ahmed does so in a way that is fresh and interesting. The story has a strong middle-eastern sensibility that is a pleasant change from the British feel of most, and the main characters are satisfyingly flawed. Secondary characters are sometimes two-dimensional, but the story carried me forward. This is the first of a series, and I expect to read more.

A Duty to the Dead (Charles Todd)

In this moving mystery set in WWI England, an Army nurse on leave goes to deliver a deathbed message from one of her patients, and winds up picking at loose ends until an entire family history unravels. At the core of the mystery is the 14-year-old murder of a servant girl, apparently by a teenage son of the family, but it links through time to a killing today and a heartbreaking miscarriage of justice. The horrible maltreatment of a young boy, even more than the killings, tore at my heart. I will definitely read more by this author.

When She Woke (Hillary Jordan)

This novel sets the story of 'A Scarlet Letter" in a too-believable future. The religious right has become dominant in the US, with Roe v Wade overturned and abortion a crime in most states. To relieve prison costs and overcrowding, most criminals are "chromed": a genetic treatment turns their skins vivid colors to indicate their crime. Hannah is a young woman from a devout family, trying to be as devout as she can, when she falls for the charismatic pastor of a megachurch (who goes on to become the nation's Secretary of Faith). The attraction is mutual, though they both know he cannot give up wife, church, and position for her. When Hannah becomes pregnant she has the child aborted, and when her crime is discovered and she refuses to name the doctor or the father, she is convicted of murder and wakes up bright red. Her pathway back to becoming herself and finding forgiveness (and finding God again in a new way) fills the rest of the book. The tale was gripping, though slightly simplistic (the good people were often unbelievably good, the bad ones unbelievably bad). I did appreciate the author's refusal to paint all religious people with the same narrow minded, bigoted brush.

I Am Half-Sick of Shadows (Alan Bradley)

This is the third Flavia deLuce novel, and I'm afraid the charm is fading. Eleven-year-old Flavia once again gets caught up in the murder of a movie star in her very own home, and finds clues nobody else sees and is almost, but not quite, murdered herself. The trouble is that there are no new ideas here. Flavia is still obsessed with chemistry, especially poisons. Her father is still distant, mourning the death of his wife a decade ago. Flavia's older sisters still torment her, and vice versa. Handyman Doggery is still mysteriously competent. But aside from these constant elements, the story was unsatisfying. Too many things cropped up and petered out into nothing. (What was the story with the stars personal assistant? Why was she so bullied by and afraid of the star? Why did the spotlight fail at the crucial moment? None of this, and more, went anywhere.) I still enjoyed the story,  but I won't be reading more of them.

An Invisible Sign of My Own (Aimee Bender)

I really liked "The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake," so I decided to read something else by Bender. This book was her first, and it didn't work as well for me. Instead of the deeply moving magical realism of Lemon Cake, I found it irritating and unconvincing. The protagonist is a 19-year-old girl whose father is ill with something undiagnosed and she deals with it in ways that are unlikely and unlikable. She is hired at the local school to teach math to elementary school children on the sole basis that the head of the school saw her once in the park doing long division for fun. Her class is a mess, especially the part where she brings in an actual ax and mounts it on the wall of the classroom where a determined child can climb up and reach it. Her fear of sex is overcome by a tender, persistent man who must see something in her I don't. There's an odd neighbor who disappears, leaving his hardware store open for anyone to walk in and take what they want, with no explanation. He's the one who wears signs (numbers indicating his mood at the moment), and she wants a similar, invisible sign, but there is no explanation for this either. I finished it, because it's a short book, but I didn't like it.

Expiration Date (Tim Powers)

This modern ghost story ties together movies, electricity, drug trafficking, and the ghost of Thomas  Edison in a complex magical tale. An 11-year-old boy, in preteen rebellion against his parents, triggers a series of events that brings up the dark history of several other people: twins mourning the death of their father decades ago, a psychiatrist whose pretend therapy became fatally real, and a dead man clinging to the world in a run-down apartment building. They come together to battle those who stay alive by eating the lives, and deaths, of others, and to fight their way to clean lives of their own. It is a fascinating story, though I found myself confused by the mechanics of it all in many places.

Hotel World (Ali Smith)

In this strange short novel, six women tell their stories one after the other, each in her own unique voice that reveals the chaotic pattern of her free association, her stream of consciousness. They are all tied together by an event at a hotel, where a young chambermaid fell to her death. The author undeniably drew the reader inside the head of each person, but I found the nontraditional writing tough going. The fifth tale, which contained pretty much no actual sentences but fragments and paragraphs loosely laced together with &s, was too much for me and I skipped over most of it. Someone with a more literary turn of mind would be more open to this book.

The Invention of Hugo Cabret (Brian Selznick)

This "novel in words and pictures" tells the charming story of a young boy living in the walls of a train station in Paris who gives up everything for his dreams. He tends to all the stations clocks, as his uncle taught him to do before he disappeared, and works to repair an automaton his father left to him. Along the way he meets people who alternately help and thwart him. The book is an adventure and a series of beautifully drawn images, but mostly it is a testament to the thrill and magic of movies.

The Hunger Games (Suzanne Collins)

I wanted to read this book to find out what everyone was talking about. It was better than I expected; I actually did get caught up in the story of survival, and I enjoyed reading it. A 16-year-old girl in a brutal, post-apocalyptic world volunteers to take her young sister's place in an annual spectacle in which 24 teens are dropped into a vast arena and forced to fight to the death on live TV. The plot is rather far-fetched, even for science fiction, and the characters and dialogue rather flat and unconvincing. There was altogether too much emphasis on food and clothing for my taste. Still, I liked the tough, ass-kicking heroine.

Rules of Civility (Amor Towles)

This is an elegant and touching story about the high life and lowlife in New York City in the 1930s. Katy, her friend Eve, and a high-class young man they recently met become entangled in webs of debt and dependence, trust and betrayal, even though pretty much everyone is trying to do the right thing. The story is a flashback, so you know Katy came out all right, but you have a hint from the beginning that all didn't go as well for Tinker.the young man they became tied to. There are surprises along the way that were satisfyingly unexpected. I enjoyed the story and the lives these people lived.

Cryptonomicon (Neal Stephenson)

This is a big book with an amazing number of threads: math, computers, cryptography, World War II, treasure hunting, data security, hacking, and more. At first, the two halves of the story (WWII and present day) seem connected only by the last names of some of the characters and the general theme of cryptography, but by the end everything has come together. I enjoyed all the science geekery, presented in a way that is accessible but also accurate, and was completely caught up in the personal stories of loyalty, trust, and love. Highly recommended.

Fire in the Mist (Holly Lisle)

This story has all kinds of magic, and makes no pretensions of coming up with "scientific" explanations, so it works just fine! A teenager is off tending sheep when everyone in her village is killed by a plague, and her emotional response is so magically powerful the leaders of the world's magical community come searching for her. A country peasant, she doesn't fit very well into the civilized and prejudiced magical university, but they convince her she needs teaching if she's to avoid harming anyone with her untutored power. In her first weeks, a horror from the past arises and threatens to destroy everything, and of course she's the one who winds up saving the day. The story was not the greatest (the end can't square with the beginning, for one thing, and I couldn't convince myself the big schism in the magical world could have persisted as completely as it did for hundreds of years), but still enjoyable enough.

A Discovery of Witches (Deborah Harkness)

I enjoy fantasy stories. This one has witches, vampires, and daemons, all together with humans in the present-day world. I was enjoying it until the author tried to explain everything using science, and missed that mark completely. Within the space of a page or two, she said (1) vampires have an extra pair of chromosomes than humans do; (2) when vampires are made, the maker first drains out all the human's blood and then replaces it with the maker's own blood (no explanation as to how the vampire survives this), and the advanced mutations in the vampire's blood triggers a spontaneous mutation in the DNA of every cell in the human's body (and "something similar happens with human blood transfusions), and (3) the secret to this may be in the "junk DNA" in human cells, which "has to be left over from previous selection, or it's waiting to be used in the next evolutionary change." I stopped reading there. Fantasy I have no trouble with, but this level of really bad science is too cringe-worthy.

The Dervish House (Ian McDonald)

Reading this sprawling, convoluted story wasn't easy, but it was worth it. In a near-future Istanbul, the lives of several people living in the same house come together in unexpected ways. One is a high-powered financial trader working on an almost-legal plan to earn millions. One is a trader in antiquities drawn into the mystical search for a legendary artifact. One is a retired professor of economics and former activist. One is a 9-year-old boy with a disability and a nearly magical robot. One is a woman who came to the city from a small agrarian community determined to make a name for herself in business. One is an empty-hearted drug user who begins seeing visions of djinni and saints. Their story begins with an explosion on a tram, and ends with a monstrous terrorist attack on the city. It was slow going, especially at first, but came together into a thrilling and satisfying conclusion.

Oryx and Crake (Margaret Atwood)

This tragic and gripping post-apocalyptic tale jumps back and forth through the life of young Jimmy who grows into solitary, doomed Snowman. It starts grimly enough, with the world divided into the gated, guarded, isolated Compounds of the elite, and the desolate, chaotic Pleeblands. As Jimmy grows, the world lurches more an more into an ecological disaster. He befriends a cynical genius named Crake, and finally meets Oryx, the object of his childhood fantasies, just as the final catastrophe befalls the human race. The origins of that catastrophe, and how it relates to Crake, Oryx, and the strange people who survive, makes for an enthralling, heartbreaking story.

A Test of Wills (Charles Todd)

A very interesting psychological mystery set in England just after WWI. A well-respected Colonel is murdered in a town in northern England, and evidence seems to point toward an even more highly respected Captain, but nobody wants to consider the possibility that someone who wore the Victoria Cross and had met the King could have committed murder. An Inspector was sent up from London to sort it all out, but he is dealing with demons of his own, as the result of psychological stress from his war service. I admit I figured out one of the big surprises early, but the main mystery was satisfyingly convoluted. I will watch for more from this author.

The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake (Aimee Bender)

I loved this strange, compelling story. At the age of nine, Rose discovers that when she eats she can tell the innermost secrets of the people who made the food. Over the years this ability torments her, as she discovers things about her family she wished she didn't know and finds eating anything not made by machine a trial. With her, we discover even deeper family secrets, from her grandparents, through her parents, to her brother. The brother's part of the story was especially meaningful to me; I have a son with Asperger's Syndrome who relates poorly to people and spends most of his time in front of a computer, so Joseph's ordeal almost tore me apart. The air of magic blended perfectly with the reality of how Rose worked out her own successful life. Undeniably tragic, the story held a core of empathy and caring that pulled me in. Highly recommended.

Birds of Paradise (Diana Abu-Jabar)

I abandoned this one half way through. It was a book-club book and I just couldn't get through it before our meeting, and then the others in my book club explained how much they didn't like it, so I just stopped. This story of a family torn apart when the teenage daughter inexplicably just ran off to live on the streets was dark, sad, and depressing. Not for me.

The Razor's Edge (W. Somerset Maugham)

This classic book book, published in 1944, follows the lives of a diverse cast of characters over a span of about 20 years. The central character is a young man whose experience in WWI has made him restless, searching for the true meaning of life. This quest sends him tramping across Europe and finally to India, where he finds enlightenment. The book is filled with people, each clearly drawn and complex, and all of them, from prostitutes to nobility, presented with unflinching affection. The locations, from Parisian drawing rooms to
German coal mines, are also vividly portrayed. While I was less impressed with the young man's sensibilities than my friends were, I truly enjoyed the seemingly effortless skill of the author in bringing it all to life.

Consciousness (Susan Blakmore)

This textbook goes into all the theories and controversies relating to the questions of consciousness. When I look at a sunset, what creates the experience of the colors? Who is the one doing the experiencing? What does it mean to experience these colors, as opposed to just registering and labeling them?  There are way more questions than answers on this amazingly complex issue. It's fun to think about, but it kind of makes my head hurt. And what does that mean, exactly? I certainly think about these questions differently than I did before!

WWW:Wake (Robert Sawyer)

This science fiction story of a blind teen given her sight through technology won the Hugo award, but I was disappointed. I couldn't get past the ludicrous scientific handwaving to appreciate the rest of the story. Caitlin (an annoyingly brilliant, cheerful, perfect teen) has a rare (and fictional) problem with the wiring of her retinas that scrambles the signals sent to the optical portions of the brain, so they give her an implant that intercepts the signals, fixes the coding, and sends them on. Immediately, her brain can process these corrected signals, and now she can see! This is, of course, incorrect on many levels. There is no fixed kind of coding that the brain expects that the retina has to get right - they wire up together and figure each other out, within certain genetically determined parameters. Even if we grant that, an occipital lobe that has never received useful data from the eyes will simply never develop the ability to process signals, and won't be able to handle them if they are later delivered. The author gets around this by saying that she has used the Internet practically since birth, co-opting her occipital lobes for "visualizing" her way around, and this meant is it well organized, so the visual signals will work. Sorry, but this means it is less able to handle signals from the eyes, now that it's been organized for some other purpose. And all of this is aside from the real point of the story, which is that a self-aware entity has developed out there in cyberspace, not knowing what it is or what existence is like, and it somehow gets plugged into Caitlin's optical feed so the two of them can become aware of each other.... I couldn't buy any of it. Sorry.

Finishing the Hat (Stephen Sondheim)

The lyrics Sondheim writes for musicals are full of unexpected rhymes, intricate interweavings, and other forms of wordplay that I love, so I was happy to read this book for my book club. Actually, I didn't read it all; it's much too dense, including as it does every lyric he wrote for every show between 1954 and 1981, along with what he refers to in the subtitle as "attendant comments, principles, heresies, grudges, whines, and anecdotes." What I did was read all of the material on shows I was familiar with ("West Side Story," "A Funny Thing Happened...," "Company," "A Little Night Music," and "Sweeny Todd") and skim the others. It was delightful to read about how these songs came together, what he thought about each one, and why this one worked and that one didn't. For example, there's nearly a whole column on the invention of Kearny Lane, covering the difference in intonation between Lanes and Streets and the strength of the consonant K, although this place name exists in one line in one song in Sweeny Todd.This book would be a treasure for anyone who writes words for music, and I much enjoyed the bits I read.

The Children of the Sky (Vernor Vinge)

This is a sequel to A Fire Upon the Deep, which I really loved. This one wasn't as much to my liking. The first story had a huge galactic sweep and some really amazing, mind-blowing ideas for science and alien species. This one had no actual new ideas, and the action was limited to a small portion of one world. The story focused on the political treacheries and manipulations of several factions of Humans and Tines (the pack intelligences native to the world), which is not as much of interest to me. I didn't hate it, but I didn't love it either.