bookshelves of doom

Now taking orders for TBR Tallboy #2.

TBRT #2 is almost ready to print and will ship next week.  Readers of TBRT #1 will be familiar with some of the names in the line up -- but there'll be plenty of new discoveries as well.

Volume 1, Number 2 begins in high summer and ends with a snowfall.  More specifically, you'll find:

a period piece about raking blueberries and taking chances,
the realization that any friendship is not necessarily good friendship,
an Aiken-esque fantasy,
a modern tribute to Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry,
a story about grief and lemon meringue pie,
a pizza delivery guy who has an experience straight out of a pulp-horror magazine,
and the dangers of actually speaking to your long-term crush.

As always, if you're interested in submitting, check out the guidelines, and if you have thoughts about the stories, suggestions, ideas about you'd like to see TBRT do in the future or anything else -- write to bookshelvesofdoom@gmail.com. 

Shipping Destination

USA $5.00 Canada $6.50 Everywhere Else $8.00

Tillmon County Fire -- Pamela Ehrenberg

From the prologue:

I can look at this page, this news about the trial and all the background noise around it, and I can say that this is my life, and also the life of a lot of other young and old and church-going and non-church-going and hard-working and not-so-hard-working people who live in Tillmon County and places just like it.  It's my life, but it's their life too.  We're in this together, however we might feel about each other at any particular moment.  And remembering that makes me think, at least for a little while, that maybe I've found the point.

Tillmon County Fire is a collection of connected stories that describe, one after the other and in many voices, the lead up to and the aftermath of a fire in the community. 

The narrators of each story -- a young man who finds God at summer camp; a 17-year-old who doesn't think much of his non-interest in his girlfriend until he sets eyes on the new guy from New York; the girlfriend, who has troubles and dreams she's never shared with her distracted boyfriend; the new guy from New York; a trumpet player; his autistic twin brother; a pregnant girl who works in the hardware store, among others -- speak in clear, distinct voices (and different fonts) that, while separate and individual, form a chorus, even though they don't realize it themselves.

I loved the format, and I felt that the different fonts worked -- in some cases, it would have felt gimmicky, but not here.  The writing was too strong for that.  I always enjoy seeing the same setting and the same event from different perspectives, and Tillmon County Fire not only achieved that, but made it feel real. 

I did think that the Postscript detracted from the book.  It felt tacked-on and unnecessary.  I didn't feel that I needed the story of Aiden's early life, as his story and his actions during the trial made it very clear that, like everyone else, he's a complicated person:  not evil, not perfect.  The Postscript made it feel too easy, too pat -- that suddenly every bad decision he made could be somehow traced back to that event.  I felt like it lessened him somehow.

Overall, though, I enjoyed it very much -- I'll be looking for more from Pamela Ehrenberg, and I hope specifically that there's more short fiction in her writing future.

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Book source:  Cybils nominee; review copy from the publisher.

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Crossposted at Guys Lit Wire.

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I'm part of the Amazon Affiliate program.  Which I'd assume would be apparent by the ad in the sidebar, but assuming that you're bright enough to understand that is not enough for the FTC.  So, I will spell it out:  if you click through to Amazon and buy something, I get money.  Why, you ask?  Well, gosh.  How else will I ever buy an Oompa-Loompa?

Angry Management -- Chris Crutcher

I hate the cover art on this one.  I've been sitting here, looking at it, trying to come up with a less harsh way of saying that, but... no.  There isn't a less harsh way of saying it.  I.  Hate.  The.  Cover.  It looks to me like someone slapped it together in seven minutes, and I don't understand if the kid on the front is angry or dancing.  Or doing an angry dance. 

Not that an angry dance is a bad thing.

Anyway.  Don't judge a book, etc., etc.

Angry Management is a trio of novellas about characters from Chris Crutcher's previous books.  Some you'll remember (Sarah Byrnes), and some you very likely won't (Matt Miller, who literally got one line in Deadline). 

The stories are tied together loosely -- all of the characters are in Mr. Nak's (from Ironman) Anger Management group.  Each story begins with Mr. Nak's first impressions of the students:  Sarah Byrnes and Angus Bethune; Montana West and Trey Chase; Matt Miller and Marcus James.

I love Chris Crutcher.  I love Chris Crutcher's books.

I did not love Angry Management.

And I was surprised and disappointed at just how much I did not love Angry Management.

I felt, in the first story, that Angus and Sarah were defined by their pasts.  While I understand that to a great extent, Who You Are is something that is Formed By Your Past, I felt that I never got a sense of either of them OTHER THAN what was in their past.  A good amount of their dialogue felt stilted and unreal -- something very unusual in a Crutcher book -- and the getting-to-know-you portion of their conversation felt like a big infodump.  Because of all that, they both -- Sarah especially -- felt two-dimensional.  The story as a whole felt hurried and like a shallow treatment of characters who deserved better.

The second story felt like a retread of material in other books.  When I wrote about Deadline, I said that readers would recognize themes and character types, but that it felt right and comfortable and like a revisit.  And I said that while the author had previously written about those themes, he still found new ways of looking at them and new aspects to explore.  There is a difference between a retread and a revisit.  Chris Crutcher has told this story before, and he's told it better.  Again, the characters felt two-dimensional and the dialogue didn't feel real.  The antagonist wasn't just two-dimensional, he was one-dimensional.  And it felt preachy.  Which is a hard thing for me to take, even when I agree with what is being preached.

In the third story, pretty much everything I've already said applies, except, in addition, I never saw Marcus James as a person.  I saw him as a symbol.  And that didn't sit right with me.  Even more than in the previous story, I felt that this one came off as extremely preachy:  by the end of the story, I felt that none of the narrators were speaking in their own voices -- they were speaking in Chris Crutcher's.

I very much appreciate the idea that, as in real life, the stories and the realities of these characters haven't ended.  I just didn't feel that these stories did the characters, the author -- or that idea -- justice.

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Book source:  My local library.

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I read this book for the 2009 Cybils.  (Though, of course, I would have gotten to it eventually anyway.)

Happy Accidents*.

I've discovered that while full-length novels don't really work for my daily commute (it makes me bananas to stop and start in the middle of a chapter), I've discovered that short stories really work for me.  So I've been listening to David Suchet and Hugh Fraser read Poirot's Early Cases.

I'm in love.  I'm going to be so depressed when I've listened to them all.

Oh, the serendipitous part?  I just noticed (via sarahw) that Christie week is coming up.

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*I love that movie.  Do you love that movie?   YOU HAVEN'T SEEN IT??  For shame:

Happy Accidents Marisa Tomei Vincent Phillip D'Onofrio | Movie Trailers

Free Lisa McMann short.

For all fans of Wake and Fade, there's a short story about Cabel available here.

Gag.

If the fat sandwich didn't do you in, you should go and read* Justine Larbalestier's hella-disgusting (and hilarious) first kiss story.

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*Or re-read, if you've already read First Kiss, Then Tell.

Oooo.

There's a short story by Jo Walton up at the Tor website.

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Previously:

Farthing

Daemon Hall -- Andrew Nance

Ian Tremblin, horror writer extraordinaire, has offered the chance of a lifetime to aspiring teen authors:  a contest in which the winner's book will be published. 

The catch is this:  the five finalists have to spend the night with Mr. Tremblin himself in the supposedly-haunted Daemon Hall.  Anyone who leaves before the night is over will be disqualified.

No flashlights, cameras, cell phones or any other electronic devices are allowed.  Candles are to be the only source of light.

Wade Reilly and four other students of varying ages are the finalists.  When they enter Daemon Hall, they are expecting thrills and chills, but also some amount of scary fun.  (Well, most of them think it will at least be kind of fun.)  What they aren't expecting is pure terror, madness... and death.

Daemon Hall is a fast-paced, action-packed read.  The format is actually similar to that old Are You Afraid of the Dark? show -- the characters take turns telling their stories, and occasionally the other characters will interrupt, so the focus flips back and forth frequently.  The stories themselves sounded genuine -- like stories that I could certainly imagine teen authors creating -- and most of them suggested the influence of other authors, like Stephen King, R. L. Stine, and Richard Matheson, while the Daemon Hall frame story evoked Agatha Christie's And Then There Were None.

I didn't find it a perfect read -- the dialogue, especially, didn't feel right in a lot of places and the characters were sketched in pretty broad strokes -- but it was genuinely creepy and it moved along so quickly that the flaws weren't at all offensive.  The strongest story, I thought, was Chelsea's "The Babysitter (Revisited)", partly because the screenplay format allowed me to really imagine this group of people sitting in a room in an huge mansion with only a few candles keeping the dark at bay.

Highly recommended to fans of Darren Shan and other quick creepy reads.

(cross-posted at Guys Lit Wire)

mental_floss is now publishing fiction!

At mental_floss:

There are many fine webzines and lit fiction sites online, like apt23.com, where you can find pantloads of well wrought original stories and poetry. But very few general interest magazines, or their sister sites like mental_floss, dare to publish fiction any more. Indeed, if you don’t subscribe to The Atlantic Monthly or The New Yorker, chances are you aren’t getting much by the way of short stories at all. No Small Tales is here to change that, starting today.

Good for them.

Speaking of fiction*, I am still seeking submissions for TBR Tallboy.  I hope you are all editing madly.

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*Like that?  Very subtle, yes?

The Digested Read: The Tales of Beedle the Bard.

Podcast at the Guardian.

Heh heh heh.

Oh, gag me.

From Reuters:

Dick Clark Prods. has inked a deal with Chicken Soup for the Soul Publishing to develop an unscripted TV series based on the best-selling books to be co-hosted by book series co-creator Jack Canfield.

(via PW)

Cherie Priest's The Clockwork Century.

Get your first look at Subterranean Press.

One-minute Weird Tales.

I should check to be sure that my subscription hasn't expired.  I love my Weird Tales.

New addiction.

The New Yorker Fiction Podcast.

I listened to Richard Ford read John Cheever's 'Reunion' last night.  Twice.

More excitement!

So I just received my new issue of Lady Churchill's Rosebud Wristlet.  That, however, isn't the exciting thing.  Well, I'm sure that I'll get all excited when I actually get a chance to look at it, but what I'm freaking out about at the moment is what was enclosed in the same envelope: 

A CHAPBOOK OF A SHORT STORY* BY JOAN AIKEN**!

It's a promotion for The Serial Garden: The Complete Armitage Family Stories, which Small Beer Press is publishing as the debut title for Big Mouth House, their new imprint for younger readers.

S.Q.U.E.E.E.E.E.E.E!!!  And also tra la.

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*The story is "Don't Go Fishing on Witches Day", which happens to be one of the Armitage stories that I haven't read!  (Insert backflip here.)

**Take that CC!  That's what you get for mocking me about the new DWJ.  (Insert evil laugh here.)

How They Met, and other stories -- David Levithan

How They Met isn't just a book of short stories.  Well, okay, it is, but the origin story of the (er...) stories is a good one, too.  I know because David Levithan told me about it in his Author's Note:

It was my junior year of high school.  Despite the best efforts of my physics teacher, I was continually bored out of my wits.  I needed something to do besides pay attention, and passing notes to my friend Lynda only occupied about half the time.  So I decided to write a story, going through the physics book (it would look like I was being studious!) and finding as many romantic notions as possible within its pages (I would not be studious at all!).  I think I started it in November, and by February I had finished the story.  I decided to give it to my friends for Valentine's Day.  The next year, they wanted another.  And so on, for all the years after.

As he goes on to explain, not all of the stories in the book began as valentine stories, but a lot of them did -- and he includes the physics story, the one that began it all.

My favorites:

"Starbucks Boy":  One of David Levithan's many talents is that he comes up with fantastic first sentences.  This story begins, "It was my aunt who pimped me out".  How could you NOT want to keep reading?

You know, I just scanned down through the table of contents and realized that if I do my usual favorites list, pretty much every story in the book will end up here for one reason or another.  "Miss Lucy Had a Steamboat" because it hurt a whole lot; "The Alumni Interview" because it made me say, "awww" and because I could perfectly picture the study, the door, and Thom listening at the keyhole; "Andrew Chang" because it made me laugh and say, "awww"; "The Good Witch" because while the situation and narration made me laugh, I still felt for both main characters.  That's just the first bunch of them.  If I yapped about all of them, I'd be late for work*.

It's just a really well-rounded, strong collection of stories for people who love love stories.  While I usually do tend to be Miss Crankypants, I admit that a good love story can make me all mushy.  This book did it, again and again.

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*And we wouldn't want that!  Also, I want to email my high school physics teacher to let him know about the physics story -- I know he'll totally get a kick out of it.

First Kiss (Then Tell): A Collection of True Lip-Locked Moments -- ed. by Cylin Busby

First Kiss (Then Tell) is a collection of first kiss stories by many of the superstars of YA lit, including Cecil Castellucci, Shannon (and Dean!) Hale, Justine Larbalestier, David Levithan, Lauren Myracle, Naomi Shihab Nye and Scott Westerfeld.  Interspersed throughout the stories are pages of facts about the history of kissing, some polls and other fun bits.

While it's uneven (as many collections are), the high points are high.  My favorites were:

Amy Kim Ganter's "The Third First Kiss", which is in comic format, and is about three first kisses. (Third time's the charm!)

Shannon and Dean Hale's "Our First Kiss (with each other)", which is a she-said he-said story about (duh) their first kiss.  Made me happy that I'm not the only lady who gives her husband a hard time about What Came Before.

Nikki Grimes' "Breathless" made me laugh out loud.

Paul Ruditis' "Improvisation" is about two boys rehearsing a scene from Romeo and Juliet, is in play format and it's sweet and funny.

Robin Wasserman's "Public Service Announcement" hurts, but not in a bad way.

Justine Larbaleistier's "Pashin' or The Worst Kiss Ever" was my favorite, hands down.  I've read it three times (once aloud to Josh), and it made me gag every single time.  No, that's not a typo.  I said gag, and I meant it.  Literally.

David Levithan and Nick Eliopulos' "A Brief History of First Kisses" is another story in comic format.  Loved it, both the words and the pictures.

Happy Valentine's Day, kiddies.

And the not-so-secret new owner of JKR's The Tales of Beedle the Bard is, as you have probably heard:

Amazon.com. 

They've posted reviews of all five tales (with spoilers) and are answering questions on the discussion boards.

The HP madness continues.  Yow. 

Red Spikes -- Margo Lanagan

Is that not the most gorgeous cover art* you've seen in some time?

Well, it's the most gorgeous cover art I've seen in some time, at any rate.  At first I thought it was kind of scary, but I later realized that the thorns aren't pushing into her skin -- according to the story that the illustration comes from, those red balls are berries.

Okay, it's still a little scary.  But also gorgeous.

Red Spikes is Margo Lanagan's third collection of short fiction.  Over the course of ten stories, she visits Purgatory and a boys' school and she writes from the perspective of a ghostly parakeet and a monkey.  The worlds -- all of them -- she introduced me to were familiar but different. 

She made me think of Ray Bradbury, in that her worlds can be sometimes brutal and harsh but then, a page later -- sometimes within the same story -- there is warmth and tenderness.

My favorites:

Baby Jane:  A boy has to deliver the baby of a warrior queen while dealing with her manservant and a bear, all who happen to be miniatures come to life (and suddenly life-sized).

Hero Vale:  This is the one set in the boys' school.  It was my very favorite story in the book.  I liked it so much that even if you aren't planning on reading the whole book, I'd suggest that you, at the very least, read this one.

Under Hell, Over Heaven:  This is the Purgatory story.  (Ooo, that kind of rhymes.)

Also, the story Winkie (about Wee Willie Winkie) scared the bejebus out of me.  Actually, so did Monkey's Paternoster, but in a very different way.

Many of these stories are not for the faint of heart.  Along with the dark atmosphere, you can tick the box next to pretty much every single entry on your handy list of Things People Find Offensive in YA fiction.  In Red Spikes, you'll find sex, violence, witchcraft, and, as at least two of the stories deal with the afterlife, well, those are bound to offend someone out there.  I don't remember profanity, but that doesn't mean there isn't any.

For those of you aren't scared off by that, it's a good read.  I really appreciated the Acknowledgments section, in which she describes her inspiration behind the stories.  I read Black Juice some time ago -- never wrote it up, apparently -- and I'm planning on digging that out again and also finding a copy of White Time. 

*The artist is Jeremy Caniglia.

October Country: Revisiting Stephen King's Skeleton Crew

I haven't read much Stephen King since middle school.  So when Colleen proposed a celebration of our return to October Country, it occurred to me that it might be fun to revisit him.  And what with his recent essay on short stories, I decided to go with Skeleton Crew, which I read no less than one billion times during my seventh-grade year*.

It was.  Fun, I mean.  So much so that I'm probably going to go back and re-read a couple of his novels.

For one thing, I'd forgotten how much I enjoy his introductions.  He's so chatty.  Chatty and self-deprecating and good-natured.  He sounds like he really enjoys what he does.  I realize that I'm from Maine, and so I'm not all that objective (regardless of how people feel about his writing, most people here seem to have some amount of regard for him, if only because of how much he does for our state), so I feel that I should mention, yet again, that I have a real soft spot for the guy. 

In the intro, he says:

Writing short stories hasn't gotten easier for me over the years; it's gotten harder.  The time to do them has shrunk, for one thing.  They keep wanting to bloat, for another (I have a real problem with bloat--I write like fat ladies diet).

I laughed when I read that -- I've always preferred his short stories for exactly that reason -- they feel like he reins himself in a bit.  Maybe JKR should try writing a few.

His intro also convinced me to finally read The Thorn Birds.  Maybe.  (His favorite part -- of course -- "was when the wicked old lady rotted and sprouted maggots in about sixteen hours.")

As for the actual stories...  I remembered about half of them very clearly.  I remembered "The Mist", "The Raft" (yick), and "The Monkey", of course.  While "The Monkey" seems to be a real favorite among fans of the book, and while I remember it really getting to me** when I was younger, it didn't do a whole lot for me this time around.  Don't get me wrong -- the image of that damned little monkey clanging its cymbals is a creepy one, but the story itself felt pretty cliched.

"Mrs. Todd's Shortcut" was another one that I remembered really well.  I loved it in seventh-grade, and I'm happy to say that I still love it.  What can I say?  I'm a sucker for the spooky romance, and I like it when someone writes about small town life in Maine and gets it right:

Summer people like the Todds are nowhere near as interesting to the year-round residents of small Maine towns as they themselves believe.  Year-round folk prefer their own love stories and hate stories and scandals and rumors of scandal.  When that textile fellow from Amesbury shot himself, Estonia Corbridge found that after a week or so she couldn't even get invited to lunch on her story of how she found him with the pistol still in one stiffening hand.  But folks are still not done talking about Joe Camber, who got killed by his own dog.

"Mrs. Todd's Shortcut" also reminded me that he's yet another author who I can imagine playing his own (creepy) version of Harriet M. Welsch's Town.

I was happy to discover that I still love "The Word Processor of the Gods" -- the plot of that one made me think a bit of Roald Dahl's adult short stories.  It would also work as a Twilight Zone episode, as would "Uncle Otto's Truck".

I'd totally forgotten about "Here There Be Tygers", about a boy who encounters a tiger in the bathroom.  Loved it.  That one was somewhat Dahl-ish as well.

"The Jaunt" surprised me -- not the twist ending, but the Fredric Brown-i-ness of it.  I'd forgotten that there were a few sci-fi stories in here.

It takes a lot to make me gag, but "Survivor Type" did it.  I'd forgotten all about it, but after reading the first few lines, it all came back.  Then I wasn't even sure if I wanted to finish it, because, eeewWW, but I did.  The end of "Beachworld" made me feel a bit ill, too, even though it wasn't the least bit gory.

One of them, "Gramma", I didn't remember at ALL.  But at the moment, it's my favorite.  It scared the bejebus out of me, and I read it in broad daylight and everything!  Does that make me a huge wimp?  Possibly.

Overall, it's an uneven collection.  But it still made me ridiculously happy to re-read it. 

*I was introduced to it by an older student who insisted on calling me Darlene, as in Darlene-from-Roseanne.  Yes, I was perpetually cranky -- it was middle school, for Pete's sake!  Alright, alright.  I also had huge frizzy hair.  Let's move on, shall we?

**The one that got me the worst, though, was "The Boogeyman", from Night Shift.  GAH!!

Stranger Things Happen -- Kelly Link

You know how sometimes you wake up from a particularly vivid dream and as hard as you try, all you can remember is an image?  And then, days later, you'll be washing the dishes or doing something similarly zen and the whole dream will come back to you?

That's what Kelly Link's stories are like for me.

Images from Stranger Things Happen that are still with me: 

A man on a beach.  A tackle box full of prosthetic noses.  Black dogs in a library.  A floppy hat decorated with teeth.  A middle-aged, plump Venus.  A pair of thigh-high black boots.  The Snow Queen, Cinderella's prince and the Twelve Dancing Princesses.  Nancy Drew.  A Chinese restaurant.  Envelopes with the stamps cut out.  A naked ghost and a cello.  A fireplace.

Spooky and funny and and painful and melancholy and hopeful.  She's a special one -- I haven't read anyone like her.

A Necklace of Raindrops and other stories -- Joan Aiken

Still reading the Joan Aiken.  The stories in A Necklace of Raindrops are geared pretty young, and would make great read-alouds.

Some, like "The Cat Sat on the Mat", because of the vivid -- but simple -- storytelling:

There was once a little girl called Emma Pippin.  She had red rosy cheeks and brown hair and she lived with her Aunt Lou.  They were very poor, too poor to buy a house, so they lived in an old bus.  The engine would not go, but it was a nice old bus and they loved it.  they outside of the bus was painted blue, the inside was painted white, and the windows had orange curtains.  They was a stove that kept them warm and whose smoke went out of a chimney in the roof. 

It stood by a high white wall.  Inside this wall were many lovely green apple trees, on which were growing many lovely red apples.  The apple trees were owned by a proud, grand man called Sir Laxton Superb.

You can see it all, right?  Even the character names created a picture in my head.

The rhyming and the rhythm and the repetition in "The Elves in the Shelves" would make it super-fun, and most of the others feature a situation that repeats (like "A Bed for the Night", in which a group of traveling musicians look for a place to sleep), which is also a great story-type for read-alouds.  The stories have the feel of old folk tales -- Baba Yaga (or someone very like her) even makes an appearance -- so they feel comfortable, but still original.

Kevin Hawkes' black and white illustrations are fab.  There's one on almost every page, and he clearly knew the material very well.  They have rounded edges, so they're soft, but they're still clear and detailed.  It's just a nice little book, period.

More Than You Bargained For and Other Stories -- Joan Aiken

Two of these stories featured birthday cakes with pink icing and decorated with silver balls.  Odd, no?

Highlights:

Dolls' House to Let, Mod. Con.:

The Armitage family returns.  This time, the trouble revolves around an extremely rambunctious, obnoxious, bossy and demanding Borrowers-sized family and a rich American inventor.

The Third Wish:

A sad little love story involving three wishes and a swan.

Pigeon Cake for Miss Samphire:

A traveling egg salesman, a birthday cake, some Bad Men, a cafe that offers this menu:

Oyster Tea.  Off.
Shrimp Tea.  Off.
Scones.  Off.
Cakes.  Off.
Salad.  Off.
Snail Tea.  Off.
Prawns, Cockles, Mussels.  Off.
Bread and Butter.
Mustard and Cress.  Off.
Devonshire Tea.  Off.

and the seldom-seen Miss Samphire, who is described as being "rather phosphorescent".

A Room Full of Leaves:

It starts, "Once there was a poor little boy who lived with a lot of his relatives in an enormous house called Troy.  The relatives were rich, but the were so nasty that they might just as well have been poor, for all the good their money did them."

This collection wasn't nearly as strong as the first one.  Ah, well.  Joan Aiken on a bad day is still better than most.

All You've Ever Wanted and Other Stories -- Joan Aiken

Who doesn't love Joan Aiken?  I don't think it's humanly possible to read her and NOT love her.  I've decided to read all of her short story collections -- in order, of course.

Highlights from All You've Ever Wanted* include: 

All You've Ever Wanted: 

Matilda, a young orphan, is raised by six of her seven aunts.  Though she's never met her Aunt Gertie, her life is not unaffected by her:

...for on her seventh birthday, and each one after it, she received a little poem wishing her well, written on pink paper, decorated with silver flowers, and signed "Gertrude Isabel Jones, to her niece, with much affection".  And the terrible disadvantage of the poems, pretty though they were, was that the wishes in them invariably came true.

That doesn't sound so bad, right?  Wrong.  You all know how magic works in fairy stories -- literally.  So when Matilda receives a poem that says, "Each morning make another friend/ Who'll be with you till light doth end", she has 365 new friends by the end of the year, and they WON'T LEAVE HER ALONE, even if she's sick or crabby or has schoolwork to do.

Even if the rest of the stories in the collection were stinkers -- which they aren't -- I'd be tempted to recommend it on the strength of this one story.  I loved it.

The Ghostly Governess:

A bunch of the stories are about Mark and Harriet Armitage**, who regularly have odd adventures.  In this one, their family rents a house for the summer.  At first, Mark and Harriet are delighted to discover that the house is haunted -- but the novelty of learning Latin in the middle of the night soon palls.

I especially loved this story because there isn't a moral.  Cool, right?  The idea that not all fairy stories have to have morals?  In another author's hands, Mark and Harriet would try to help the governess Move On To A Higher Plane because they are Good Children -- in Joan Aiken's, they do it because they're sick of memorizing dates.

Musicians Out of Work and The True History of Good King Wenceslas were both fun -- the first is a continuation of the Bremen Town Musicians and the second... well, that should be pretty obvious.

The Rocking Donkey felt like a cross between Hans Christian Andersen and Roald Dahl, if you can imagine that.

John Sculpin and the Witches and Harriet's Birthday Present are both excellent witch stories.

Cooks and Prophesies was just adorable, and Enchanted Forest Chronicles fans will especially like it.

Super highly recommended.  Fabbity fabbity fab.  Oh, and I loved Pat Marriott's illustrations, too.

*Check out the price!  Good thing I was able to get the book through ILL!

**Who are introduced in Yes, But Today is Tuesday, a story that features a whole herd of unicorns -- and Holly Black will be happy to hear that I liked it!  The unicorns are cool, and the story isn't sad at all -- it's actually funny!  That deserves more exclamation points!! !!!    !!!! 

Oh dear.  I just turned into a middle school girl.  Sorry about that.

Oooo.

All of Roald Dahl's short stories for adults have been collected in one volume.

Granted, I already have multiple copies* of most (if not all) of his short story collections.  But, still.  Very cool.

*No, I don't know why one of each isn't enough.

Longed for him. Got him. Shit. -- Margaret Atwood

6 word stories.

(via Bookninja)

Fragile Things -- Neil Gaiman

The highlights (for me):

The Introduction -- normally, I'm not a big fan of introductions.  I like to just dive in.  This one, however, gave a bit of background about the writing of each piece (where, why, when) and I found myself turning back to it again and again.

"A Study in Emerald" -- A Sherlock Holmes story set in the world of H. P. Lovecraft.  Loved it so much I've been babbling about it to everyone who will listen regardless of whether they A) are interested or B) know who H. P. Lovecraft is.  Loved it so much I immediately ILLed Shadows over Baker Street, the collection it originally appeared in.  I'm waiting with bated breath.  (Or I would be, if I wasn't busy obsessively playing Okami.)

"October in the Chair" -- Neil Gaiman dedicated this one to Ray Bradbury for a reason.

"Forbidden Brides of the Faceless Slaves in the Secret House of the Night of Dread Desire" -- It just made me laugh a whole lot.

"Closing Time" -- I'd read this one before, and I knew I'd read it before, but I happily read it again.  There's a recommendation for ya.

"Bitter Grounds" -- Creepy.  Zombies.  Good.

"Other People" -- Made me think of Fredric Brown.

"Keepsakes and Treasures" -- Had a noir-y, crime-y feel.  I dug it.  And one of the characters popped up in a later story, which I always enjoy.

"Harlequin Valentine" -- This one just made me happy.

"The Problem of Susan" -- Neil Gaiman on Narnia.  This one's a must read for anyone who enjoys the occasional Pullman-rant re: C. S. Lewis.  It'd also be a good one for those who think Pullman maybe should calm down a little bit.  And it's a good one for people who are interested in All Things Narnia.  It's just good, period, okay?

"Feeders and Eaters" -- Another one that made me think of Bradbury.

"Sunbird" -- An epicurean club and the Phoenix.  Rad.

"The Monarch of the Glen" -- A story about Shadow, two years after the events chronicled in American Gods.  It made me miss him.  Also, Grendel's mom is cool.

Scary Stories challenge fails.

From the Louisville Courier-Journal:

Dorsey said her granddaughter, a first-grader at Utica Elementary, has been afraid of the dark and "plagued by nightmares" since last March, after another student who got a book from Utica Elementary's library gave it to her.

The girl couldn't read the book because it's written for older children. But the pictures, which include sketches of a witch and spiders coming out of a hole in a face, caused the girl to be "imprisoned by fear," Dorsey told the board.

I don't think I can top that.

Rush Hour, Volume Three: Face -- Ed. Michael Cart

You'll find more of an explanation of Rush Hour here.

I was going to wait until I'd tracked down Volume Two... But I caved. 

Volume Three is much stronger than the first one -- obviously, I have no idea what V2 is like, but they've really hit their stride in this one:

David Yoo's "Turning Japanese":  His temp boss assumes that because he's Asian, he must be Japanese, he doesn't correct her, it turns into a whole big thing where she expects him to teach her Japanese:

Sharon was in her late forties.  She was extremely thin, with buggy eyes that made her resemble a grasshopper.  She was friendly in a way that was undeniably authentic but still sounded artificial.  It was probably her southern accent.  The fact that she assumed I was Japanese didn't help my impression of her.  I didn't bother clarifying that I was a Korean (albeit one born and raised in the States who can't speak Korean) the first time because at that moment it felt like less of a hassle to just let it slide.  She'd made only a few passing references to my "Japanese" heritage since then, and I figured her thinking this wasn't hurting anybody.  It had now been five months, and far too much time had passed for me to correct her because it would make me the asshole for leading her on the whole time. 

Lara M. Zeises' "Me and the Bean":  I've been meaning to read her for some time now.  This story pushed me right over the edge.  I must track her books down.

K. L. Going's "Samuel":  This one was rough.  But very, very good.  Made me realize that I need to bone up on my Bible knowledge, though.

Adrian Chamber's "The Scientific Approach":  Super short -- 4 pages -- loved it.  I will now finally read Postcards From No Man's Land.

There was also an excerpt from Grand & Humble, an essay about transsexuals called "The Wrong Body", an excerpt from a German novel that I MUST read, photos and drawings and a bunch of other pieces.  I'm so into this series.  Eclectic is an understatement.

They really should set up some kind of subscription package.  If that doesn't work due to changing release dates or whatever, maybe a standing order set-up: Sign-up and when a new one comes out, your credit card gets charged and the new volume is automatically shipped.  Or something. 

Volume Four, Reckless, is due out in June.  I'm especially looking forward to Bennett Madison's short story:  "Little Sisters Steal the Best Shit".

Rush Hour, Volume One: Sin -- Ed. Michael Cart

Have any of you stumbled across Rush Hour?  Frankly, I'm a little horrified that it's taken me this long to find it.

From the Introduction:

Welcome to the first issue of Rush Hour, something new in publishing.  Neither a magazine nor a book, we're the best of both: a cutting-edge literary journal of contemporary voices that will be published twice each year.  Our contents are intended to be at once artful and risk-taking, innovative and--always--eclectic.  In this inaugural issue, for example, you'll find original art, stories, essays, poetry, and excerpts from forthcoming novels.  Though varied in form, each entry deals with a common theme: "Sin."

Like most multiple-author collections, this one is pretty uneven.  The age range bounces around considerably -- from, say, young teen to adult.  Granted, the Young Adult realm does encompass that age range, but it was a little jarring to find a pretty tame Joan Bauer story in the same book as a horrifically violent war story by Terry Davis.  It didn't bother me, particularly, but I'd imagine that it would make the audience hard to gauge for librarians and booksellers.  And parents.

Standouts:

Brock Cole's "A Life of Crime":  As it's a story by Brock Cole, I wasn't surprised to find that it made me feel squeamish and icky -- but he does it in such an understated way.  It is, after all, as story about some pretty serious repression.  Excellent.

Emma Donahue's "Good Deed":  A sort-of retelling of the Good Samaritan tale about a pretty self-absorbed Canadian businessman-yuppie-type.  I might have liked it particularly because I pictured the protagonist as someone I know (not very flattering for him), but I think it's a good one nonetheless.

Sonya Sones' "Massage":  It's Sonya Sones.  Need I say more?  It's much more... physical than most of her other work.

Gary Miller's "Gone Lonesome":  Brutal, but it made me want to read the rest of the book.

Elizabeth Lorde-Rollins' "The Terror Class":  A Harlem elementary school.

Alex Flinn's "Intrinsic Value":  Purely fantastic.  If I had to pick just one, this would probably be it.

There was also an excerpt from Chris Lynch's perfect Inexcusable. (This 'issue' of Rush Hour was published before the novel.) 

Regardless of my quibbles/worries about the series, I'm very definitely going to track down the other back issues, and I'm looking forward to Volume Four, due out in June.  It's just such a great idea.  I hope it'll be around for a long, long time.

Follies: New Stories -- Ann Beattie

This collection was odd.  I really, really liked some of the stories -- in a kind of insubstantial, melancholy way.  I don't mean that the stories were insubstantial -- my feelings were.  I'd try to grab them and figure out what they were and they'd just flit away.  It was very strange.  But the general, overarching feeling was of melancholy.

Other stories I just didn't like.

Unfortunately, the one I disliked the most was the first (and longest) one.  I never connected with anyone in "Flechette Follies".  I actually think that was deliberate -- it makes sense in the context of the story -- which says a lot for Beattie's writing, but it still didn't make me like the story.  It's hard for me to really like something if I can't form any sort of attachment.

As for the ones I enjoyed:

"Find and Replace": 

True story: my father died in a hospice on Christmas Day, while a clown dressed in big black boots and a beard was down the hall doing his clown-as-Santa act for the amusement of a man my father had befriended, who was dying of ALS.  I wasn't there; I was in Paris to report on how traveling art was being uncrated--a job I got through my cousin Jasper, who works for a New York City ad agency more enchanted with consultants than Julia Child is with chickens.  For years, Jasper's sending work my way has allowed me to keep going while I write the Great American I Won't Say Its Name.

I'm superstitious.  For example, I thought that even though my father was doing well, the minute I left the country he would die.  Which he did.

"The Garden Game":  A seven-page story about childhood memory and growing up and loss. 

"The Rabbit Hole as Likely Explanation":  Alzheimer's is rough.  This story stayed with me.

I liked the mentions of movies and music in the stories -- maybe it's just my love of pop-culture, but those details always make characters seem more real to me.

So.  Overall, it was an uneven collection for me, but I'd like to read more.  Suggestions?

Guys Write for Guys Read -- edited by Jon Scieszka

I'm a huge fan of Guys Read.

Each piece was short -- the longest being about three pages long -- most were under two.  Guys Write for Guys Read is a book that doesn't involve much commitment -- you can pick it up, read a few segments, and wander away again. 

I have a new list of authors I want to try out -- I was horrified to realize that I've only read (maybe) two books by Laurence Yep.  I've been procrastinating about reading John Marsden's Tomorrow series -- after reading his bit, I have vowed to procrastinate no longer.  I'll grab the first book today.  I've been a Will Weaver fan for a long time, but I haven't read him in ages -- his piece made me want to go back and read him again.  Kenneth Oppel's short story about a semi-cool guy's experience with D&D made me determined to finally (finally!) read Airborn. 

It was fun to re-visit bits from Gary Paulsen and Chris Crutcher's memoirs, though I kind of wished they had written new bits -- or that I hadn't already read the segments included.  But they're busy guys, so I guess it's a forgivable offense.  M.T. Anderson's "My Maturity, in Flames" tied for personal favorite with Daniel Adel's re-creation of a childhood drawing.  I keep turning back to those two and re-reading them.

That being said, I'm curious about how this collection has been received by actual guys.  I do think there's something for everyone in here, but at the same time (for that very reason, really), I think it'll be hit-or-miss for everyone, too.  The suggested age on the inner flap is 11-up, but it struck me as a collection that adults might enjoy more than teens.  Obviously, I could be wrong.  But that's how it struck me.

Instead of Three Wishes: Magical Short Stories -- Megan Whalen Turner

Fairy tales work best when simply told.  This collection is, not surprisingly, super.  I re-read it periodically. 

My favorites:

"Factory":  It's just this nice little ghost story/romance.  The romance is my favorite kind -- one that develops partially due to a mutual love of books and food.  The larger background story is also really, really nice.  In a strange way.

"Aunt Charlotte and the NGA Portraits":  I'm always a sucker for selkie stories.  And for cool cabbies.

"Instead of Three Wishes":  Never, ever fails to crack me up.  I love every single thing about this story. 

Jigs & Reels: Stories -- Joanne Harris

I thoroughly enjoyed this collection.  Some of the stories were stronger than others, but overall, I was a fan.  I'll very definitely be continuing my Harris kick.

My favorites:

'Gastronomicon':  Joanne Harris does Lovecraft.  Rad.  (And really funny.)

'Al and Christine's World of Leather':  A nice little love story with a dash of revenge. 

'Last Train to Dogtown':  This would have made a perfect Twilight zone episode -- an author is confronted by his forgotten characters.

'Tea with the Birds':  A quiet little story.  I liked it.

'Waiting for Gandalf':  This was my favorite story.  Hands down.  Late middle-aged live-action gamers.  So wonderful.  There are some days that I think I'd like to join them.

'Any Girl can be a CandyKiss Girl!':  Sad, but true.  Little girls dress like hoochies.

'Fish':  A story about the power of food.  I can't decide if it gave me the creeps or not.  It made me decide that I really do need to read Chocolat. 

A Fisherman of the Inland Sea -- Ursula K. Le Guin

People who think they don't like science fiction should really, really try Le Guin.  She (like Johnny Cash) transcends traditional genres. 

My faves from A Fisherman of the Inland Sea:

"The First Contact with the Gorgonids":  This was just a funny little story about a guy getting exactly what he deserved.  I loved it.

"The Shobies' Story" and "Dancing to Ganam":  Both stories deal with the idea of churten theory, which is basically instantaneous travel.  (As opposed to NAFAL* (Nearly as Fast as Light.))  They both explore (in a very small nutshell) the idea of personal perception changing one's environment.  I thought about both stories for days.  They're also part of her Ekumen/Hanish saga -- so now, I want to go back and read everything she's written about that world/universe in order.  It's so fascinating and absorbing -- the ideas themselves combined with her ability to create whole new worlds and cultures.  She's so great.

"Another Story or A Fisherman of the Inland Sea":  A time travel story and a love story, it's also part of the Ekumen/ Hainish group.  It's a special one.

*I knew there was no way I'd be able to explain this without blathering, so: 

From Le Guin's World: Encyclopedia: Basic Dictionary:

NAFAL drive ships use the time dilation effect as stated by Einstein's theories: a ship that moves at a speed approaching the speed of light will appear to move outside of time. Those on board will experience that only a short period of time passes by, while those outside of the ship will experience of a far longer period of time.

As an example, a four light year journey feels like "a few hours", but in fact it takes four years.

Slowly, Slowly in the Wind: Stories -- Patricia Highsmith

See my review of The Black House for my description of how Patricia Highsmith makes me feel.

Okay.  The highlights of Slowly, Slowly in the Wind (for me):

"The Network":  She was so good at creating groups of friends in an urban environment that feel somehow icky and strange.  I don't know how she did it.  A different author could write the same exact story, use the same plot and probably some of the same dialogue, and it would turn out funny or even boring.  But somehow, Patricia Highsmith turned it into creeping dread.  Yeech.

"The Pond":  I could imagine Stephen King loving this one.  It reminded me of some of his early short stories -- you know, the really good ones.  Vines in a pond that are somehow malevolent.  Cut them down, they come back overnight.  And they move by themselves. 

"Slowly, Slowly in the Wind":  Okay.  I might have partially loved this one because it's set in Maine.  It's a great story regardless, though.

"Those Awful Dawns":  Catholicism gone awry.  Too many kids, not enough money and cramped quarters.  Not hard to imagine where this story goes.

"Please Don't Shoot the Trees":  Patricia Highsmith does sci-fi.  For real.  I'm not joking.

By highlights, I meant 'those that especially stood out'.  But they're all worth reading -- many of the others are very classic-Highsmith-type stories.  She's so great.

Changing Planes: Stories -- Ursula K. Le Guin

Rather than a collection of short stories, Changing Planes is a collection of travelogues -- anthropological essays would probably be a closer match, actually -- about other worlds.  A good number of the stories were previously published in magazines.  Kind of like I, Robot -- Asimov took a bunch of previously published stories and wrote a connecting thread to... uh, connect them.  (Except that Le Guin not only wrote the connectors, she also wrote a bunch of new stories.)

The basic premise is that a woman, Sita Dulip, discovered that with the right mix of "tense misery, indigestion, and boredom", people from our world can "change planes" -- visit other worlds.  Unfortunately for us, the only places that create the correct mind frame for interplanary travel are airports.

Le Guin's Author's Note is (of course) wonderful:

This book was written when the miseries of air travel seemed to be entirely the doing of the corporations that ran the airports and the airlines, without any help from bigots with beards in caves.  Spoofing the whole thing was easy.  They were mere discomforts, after all.  Things have changed, but the principle on which Sita Dunlip's Method is founded remains valid.  Error, fear, and suffering are the mothers of invention.  The constrained body knows and values the freedom of the mind.

I started typing out a list of my favorites, but I found that I was basically just re-creating the Table of Contents.  It's a good 'un. 

The Black House: Stories -- Patricia Highsmith

Some of the stories in this book just gave me the willies.  Not the run-and-dive-under-the-covers-because-of-the-unseen-shadowy-hand-about-to-grab-my-ankle kind of willies.  Instead, I found myself lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, just feeling vaguely unsettled.  Which is kind of worse -- the ankle-grabbing willies I can laugh off.  The other kind sticks around for days.

The Shirley Jackson willies.  That's what The Black House has -- psychological scares that are so much worse than anything Freddy Krueger can dish out.  Their normalcy makes them scary. 

The stories that especially got me: 

"Not One of Us":  In which a group of friends turns on one of their own -- think middle school, but with adults and with more dire consequences. 

"The Dream of the Emma C":  It never occurred to me before that a ship/boat is the perfect place for a psychological thriller -- everyone is stuck together in cramped quarters.  Tensions heighten fast.  I might need to read more boat books, which is something I never ever thought I'd say.

"Old Folks at Home":  The ending made me think of Roald Dahl's story "The Way up to Heaven".  (Which by the way, is required reading.  If you haven't, you must.)  This story was far creepier than the Dahl, though.

"The Kite":  This one made me think of Roald Dahl, too.  But even though this one was rough, his "The Swan" is still more horrific. 

"The Black House":  Yeah.  It's the title story for a reason. 

The Door in the Hedge -- Robin McKinley

I consider myself a pretty serious Robin McKinley fan.  The Blue Sword is one of my all-time favorite favorite FAVORITE books ever.  Desert island reading, even. 

So it's really embarrassing for me to admit that there are a good number of McKinley books that I haven't actually read, The Door in the Hedge being one of them.  (Deerskin is another, but that's because I'm scared of it.  From what I've heard, my fears are justified.  I noticed, also, that in the 'Books by Robin McKinley' list at the beginning of this edition of DitH, Deerskin is listed as a book 'For Adults'.  I figured I should mention it -- there are people out there who might be relieved.)

So...  back to Door in the Hedge.  Four fairy tales, two re-imagined and two original.  (Unless The Golden Hind is an old story.  The only Golden Hind I know of is Drake's ship, but please correct me if I'm wrong.)

Oddly enough, my favorite of the four was the retelling of 'The Frog Prince'.  I've never really liked the story.  I never thought about why -- it just wasn't one of my favorites. 

Robin McKinley's version, 'The Princess and the Frog', made me realize that I'd never liked the Grimm version because the princess was such a BEASTLY LITTLE SNOT.  Also, I thought that the introduction of the frog -- his fetching of the lost golden ball -- was lame.  And I thought it was dumb that the princess didn't realize that he was under a spell -- I mean, come on.  DUH. 

In this version, the princess isn't awful at all -- she's pretty cool.  Rather than being a story about being rewarded for keeping your promises (something that you should do anyway without expecting to be rewarded, HELLO), it's a story about good vs. evil, using your brain, and family. 

Robin McKinley being Robin McKinley, she takes a (Sorry again to the fans of the Grimm version!) pretty lame original, and gives it humor and depth:

"You cannot be a frog," she said stupidly.  "You must be--under a spell."  And she found she could spare a little pity from her own family's plight to give to this spell-bound creature who spoke like a human being.

"Of course," snapped the frog.  "Frogs don't talk."

She was silent, sorry that her own pain had made her thoughtless, made her wound another's feelings.

"I'm sorry," said the frog for the second time, and in the same gentle tone.  "You see, one never quite grows accustomed."

She answered after a moment: "Yes.  I think I do understand, a little."

"Thank you," said the frog.

"Yes," she said again.  "Good night."

"Good night."

The Lone Surfer of Montana, Kansas -- Davy Rothbart

So not only is Davy Rothbart the creator of Found Magazine (easily the coolest magazine there is or ever had been), not only is he a rapper, but now he's written a book of short stories.  (According to the author info, he also contributes to This American Life and is a documentary filmmaker.  He's quickly becoming quite the renaissance man.)

Really decent short stories.  They're sad, smart, achy, and emotionally true.  I especially liked his descriptions (This one is from the title story.):

The sheriff had pulled a chair out into a hallway and sat across from Kyle, thumbing through the pages of a tattered Ranger Rick without reading it.  Since the gunplay, he'd shed every bit of his cockiness and bite, and now, still badly shaken, he reminded me of an NFL coach fired four games into the season, trying not to weep at his press conference.  Usually I'd find great joy in seeing someone brought down by their own idiocy--especially a cop--but the sheriff's hot, billowing self-hatred was almost too much to bear.  I could picture him later that night going for a long drive, oldies station cranked at full volume, two bewildered hounds on the seat beside him, pulling off the road by the creek where he'd first made love to his high-school girlfriend, fighting his way down to the water, tearfully kneeling down and blowing his brains out on the weedy bank.

Plus, Judy Blume is quoted on the book's cover.  What more recommendation do you need?

Magic for Beginners -- Kelly Link

Kelly Link wins.  Magic for Beginners is a fantastic collection of stories.  I'd never read her before, but I will very definitely seek out her other books. (Are there others?  Yes.  Phew.) 

Not only did she remind me of a time when The Garment District didn't suck (and yes, anyone who wants to argue with me, it does too suck.  For the most part, the people that work there have the waaaay-too-cool-for-school snotty attitude, a lot of the clothes are fake vintage...  it's like a huge Hot Topic now.  Gross.  But the bit in Kelly Link's The Faery Handbag refers to a kinder, gentler, better stocked Garment District):

We had this theory that things have life cycles, the way that people do.  The life cycle of wedding dresses and feather boas and T-shirts and shoes and handbags involves The Garment District.  If clothes are good, or even if they're bad in an interesting way, The Garment District is where they go when they die.  You can tell that they're dead, because of the way that they smell.  When you buy them, and wash them, and start wearing them again, and they start to smell like you, that's when they reincarnate.  But the point is, if you're looking for a particular thing, you just have to keep looking for it.  You have to look hard.

But she also used the word 'eldritch' not once, but TWICE--in two different stories.  And she used in the proper Lovecraftian way, but in reference to things that Lovecraft never would have dreamed of including in his stories.  A pajama top (in The Hortlak):

The pajama top was a color that Eric could not name.  Dreary, creeping shapes lay upon it.  Eric had read Lovecraft.  He felt queasy when he looked at the pajama top.

...

"And you're okay with that?" Batu said.  He yawned ferociously, and yawned again, and stretched, so that the pajama top heaved up in an eldritch manner.  Eric closed his eyes.

and a sofa (in Magic for Beginners):

But it's hard to keep your guard up at all times.  Jeremy comes home from school, feeling as if he has passed the math test, after all.  Jeremy is an optimist.  Maybe there's something good on TV.  He settles down with the remote control on one of his father's pet couches:  oversized and reupholstered in an orange-juice-colored corduroy that makes it appear as if the couch has just escaped from a maximum security prison for criminally insane furniture.  This couch looks as if its hobby is devouring interior decorators.  Jeremy's father is a horror writer, so no one should be surprised if some of the couches he reupholsters are hideous and eldritch.

Obviously, it wasn't only those two things that made me like the book so much.  Her stories were (and are) completely original and very surreal.  She turned things that shouldn't be foreboding (like bunnies) into agents of total creepiness.  She created a world where a boy inherits a phone booth in Vegas and there's a cult pirate TV show called The Library that may or may not be real.  She created a world where live people get married to dead people and rely on mediums for marital counseling.  She created a world where zombies visit a convenience store.  She created a T-shirt that reads I'm So Goth I Shit Tiny Vampires.

Not only that, but aesthetically, the book is really nice, too.  Nice enough that I want to look at more of the stuff that the publisher puts out.

Go and hit your local bookstore, grab a copy and read the story Stone Animals.  (That's the one with the bunnies.)  Or The Hortlak (That's the convenience store story.)  If that doesn't make you an instant fan, she's probably not your thing.  If she is, though, you're in for a total treat.  I borrowed this one from the library, but I'm going to have to buy my own copy.