Into the Wardrobe: 2095 by Jon Scieszka (1995)
As with other books I’ve been finding at thrift shops and using for Into the Wardrobe, the Time Warp Trio series is one I was too old for when it was originally published, so I’m completely new to it. According to Goodreads, the series went on for 16 volumes, and it spawned a television show adaptation.
Book Review: CRAFT: STORIES I WROTE FOR THE DEVIL by Ananda Lima
At the dawn of the Millennium, a writer attends a Halloween party and meets the Devil. She’s come dressed as a distinct reference to the past: Inauguration Nancy Reagan. He’s dressed in a baggy suit with a rumpled orange wig. When she asks the Devil what he’s supposed to be, he simply answers: The future. Cue terrifying shiver in readers. So begins Craft, and so starts a series of encounters between the writer and the Devil. While those future meetings will be neither as prolonged nor as intimate as this first, the effects of each experience will profoundly influence the progression of the writer’s art: her craft. The magic of Lima’s debut work is its effective amalgamation of form, genre, and theme. Craft is most recognizable as a collection of short stories with interludes of the meetings between the writer and the Devil through time. But readers will quickly find the numbered stories blending into one another, and the unnumbered interludes blending into the stories, to the point where Craft manifests characteristics more particular to a novel, united with a third-person omniscient perspective that may not be as fragmented as a collection would normally have. Craft is also most recognizable as literary fiction, with an emphasis on words, writing, and ideas that dominate plot or character. Yet it also conjures the realms of genre, and is published by Tor Nightfire, a horror imprint. The stories, or episodes, of Lima’s debut are reminiscent of the surreal fiction and magical realism that previous generations of Central and South American authors have pioneered. A Brazilian expat settled in the United States, Lima offers a unique and personalized perspective in Craft that addresses the immigrant experience, with inspiration from the difficult years since the US election of 2016, through the SARS-CoV-2 pandemic, up to the present. At points, Lima compares and contrasts elements of the political administration of her current home, to the that of her homeland where family still lives. I describe this as if the writer who appears in Craft is an autofiction stand-in for Lima herself. Possibly. Possibly not. Here again, Lima’s work exists as a blending with uncertain definition between fiction and memoir. Are these biographical details of truth that Lima has put into Craft from her experiences? Are they a broader truth, related with completely fabricated details? Lima writing a writer character who writes stories inspired by events and encounters with the charismatic enigma of the Devil makes a large portion of Craft meta, with frequently amusing commentary on the process of writing – particularly the vagaries of peer review. “Idle Hands”, one of the ‘stories’ in Craft, consists entirely of notes, or reports, written by members of a writer’s group as critique of a short story the writer has produced in the workshop. All the perspectives combine into a contradictory and impossible-to-address mess of opinions and points of view, creating an ambiguous idea of what the actual story may have been and the realm of possibilities for its strengths or weaknesses. The most surreal entry of Craft (and a brilliant one), “Antropófaga”, features a wearied woman who discovers a vending machine at work that dispenses miniature little American people of various types, in crisp plastic packaging for consumption like candy. Equally brilliant on the other end of the spectrum of realism would be an entry like “Ghost Story”, using magical realism to explore separation of people in ordinary situations. Returning to the topic of Craft‘s publisher, one might wonder how horror enters into the picture here. Indeed, from what I can gather through brief research, Lima herself was surprised that her work could be characterized or marketed as such. Horror fans who are familiar with the very broad spectrum of the genre won’t be surprised here, but casual horror fans or those who normally avoid horror might be more confused through preconceptions or expectations. Craft is not about eliciting constant terror or fright – or about pulling jump scares. It’s not filled with gore or overt violence. It’s a vibe. A disquieting soul that draws from our own collective experiences over the past decade (or even beyond) and the nightmare that may exist in our realities. And it’s about living through them and finding oneself even through the uncertainties and unfairness of it all. Craft also evoked the horror genre for me a bit through its structure, particularly compared to the common format for horror anthology movies. These usually consist of multiple independent stories, with a bridging narrative between each to hold them all together. At times, the worlds of each episode and the interludes meet one another in meta fashion. Craft contains this same effect, with the unnumbered (and untitled) interludes serving as this type of cinematic bridge narrative. Similar to this form in movies, the bridging narrative never quite gels in strength compared to many of the distinct episodes, yet contains fragments of brilliance and serves as that essential glue for the whole. Lima’s Craft is well worth checking out for genre fans that like the literary fiction side of the spectrum (or the reverse.) I’d also recommend looking into other reviews if interested (or still undecided) that go more into specific stories. I often find myself writing reviews that disagree with a lot of other opinions out there, or see different things, but in the case of Craft, most of the coverage seems fair and on-point.
A Book by its Cover: SHARED by Sara Fields & Korey Mae Johnson
A Book by its Cover is a monthly joke column featuring a review based on the cover of a book and nothing else. Any similarities in our review to the actual book are purely coincidental and proof that we are awesome. You can find a true informational blurb about the novel and find a link for its purchase at Stormy Night Publications. Aiden Drake and Ignaz Lindwurm are the reigning tag-team champions of the Magical Wrestling Association holding the prestigious Xcaliber Belt and the Castlereagh Cumberbund. But their success has put a target on their shredded, oil-rubbed back with all the other magician/wrestler teams of the realm looking to topple them. The Abattoir quickly becomes the top contender as challengers. Consisting of Roderic Boucher and Theo “Meathook” McGuire, the Abattoir first annoy Aiden and Ignaz by raiding their lockers and stealing all their shirts, preventing them from being able to enter any of the pubs of the realm that post signs of “No Shoes, No Shirt, No Service.” A confrontation between the two teams in the courtyard quickly leads to hurled vulgarities and spells. The Abattoir manage to hit Aiden and Ignaz with a curse that removes all their tattoos, severely weakening their ability to harness the Dragon fire they are known for. Unable to back away from this affront and challenge, Aiden and Ignaz agree to meet Roderic and Theo in the ring during the upcoming MWA Plunder in the Palace. But can they successfully defend their title without their full connection to the Dragons? Complicating matters even more, as their animosity escalates with the Abattoir leading up to the fight. Soon, the strong emotions and physicality fuel a raw, unbridled sexual energy that unites these enemies in an unexpected way. How will what these two pairs share together in the bed end up affecting the battle they must face in the ring? In this novel Fields and Johnson masterfully explore the ins and outs of sharing, mental and physical, with erotically charged prose sure to thrill the reader. The pair of authors share their strengths here as a literary tag team, with Fields’ sure-footed plotting and genre expertise balancing the lyricism and artistic depth of Nobel-winning poet Johnson. Human sharing (even with magic) involves the good and the bad, for better or for worse, and Shared covers that idea throughout. At the start the focus is mainly on the separate partnerships of Aiden and Ignaz, contrasting with the more S&M styles of Roderic and Theo. Gradually, the sharing begins to cross between these pairs, even in ways where their magical skills show signs of blending and going awry (one bout of sex literally lights a bed on fire and cuts sheets into strips, and one match in the ring has flaming butcher knives cutting into opponents. Through the sharing, however, each team becomes something more. Aiden & Ignaz discover passion and drives they never dared dream, while Roderic and Theo begin to learn some compassion and forgiveness. Even though the final match during the Plunder in the Palace demands a clear winner and a loser, Shared finds a way to give a happy ending to all its characters and for the fans of this series. A Book by its Cover is a monthly joke column featuring a review based on the cover of a book and nothing else. Any similarities in our review to the actual book are purely coincidental and proof that we are awesome. You can find a true informational blurb about the novel and find a link for its purchase at Stormy Night Publications.
Movie Review: NEW LIFE (2023) Directed by John Rosman
Viewers should have the greatest possibility of enjoying Rosman’s genre-switching debut New Life by going in cold, with as few details about its plot or themes as possible. This makes it a tricky movie to review and inform its potential audience about. Now available streaming on-demand, it is a movie worth checking out by fans of SF thrillers, apocalyptic cinema, and horror. Yet, New Life never really steps fully into any of those genres. Foremost, it is a generic thriller, whose plot developments and backstory tangentially intersect genre staple touch points now and again. Though not without faults, New Life succeeds in telling its story and grappling with themes in an interesting way that should captivate audiences. As long as the audience hasn’t been completely ruined by fast-paced media trends that constantly barrage viewers for attention without time for deep engagement. New Life is a slow burn, with its first half (~40 minutes) proceeding without overtly revealing the true nature of the story to the audience. Shots are relatively long, dialogue is relatively sparse. But the visuals and superior acting grab attention and give audiences some clues to find footing for what exactly is transpiring. The movie begins with a woman (Hayley Erin) on the run, bleeding. We don’t know anything about the circumstances, but she’s clearly in danger, terrified and desperate, and the people after her have guns. Later we learn her name is Jessica. We then are introduced to two other characters: Raymond (Tony Amendola) and Elsa (Sonya Walger.) Raymond seems to be a handler, running the operation of operatives that is after Jessica, mining camera feeds, and police and hospital reports for her traces. He’s sending instructions to operative Elsa, who rises in the morning with a gun and weekly pill box at the ready, looking searchingly at herself in the bathroom mirror where she’s taped a pair of handwritten affirmational quotes. The intel suggests Jessica is headed north toward the Canadian border. Elsa must stop her reaching there, but she’s also battling a medical diagnosis she’s kept secret from Raymond. New Life begins with this and follows the thriller path of obfuscation before that halfway point where the situation of the plot becomes overtly clear with its SF and horror genre element nods. Part of that obfuscation is the nonlinear chronology of the plot. Intermittent flashbacks reveal more about Jessica’s past and what has set her upon this path. Even as the film reaches its conclusion and what the film is doing with its characters seems fairly set in the stone of genre tropes, New Life reveals some additional twists. I had the nature of Jessica’s situation and those after her figured out very quickly after the start. This made the first part of the movie a bit more frustrating, even if still engaging with its acting and cinematography. The frustration mostly arose from the nonlinear narrative and bits of cloaked dialogue that are scripted clearly to hide things from the audience and create tension of uncertainty in what exactly is going on. It becomes unnecessary particularly when a viewer can take a few clues and figure things out early. Had the film skipped the flashback structure and just went with a linear plot, I don’t know as it would have actually been less, and for some viewers it might actually have been an improvement. However, I was still pleasantly surprised by how things went for characters by the end, with twists that were less obvious and deviations from viewer expectations of how a certain branch of horror stories work. The movie also draws tremendous thematic strength from its comparisons between Jessica’s situation and Elsa’s medical diagnosis, of how these relate to life and death. With its relatively slow pace, New Life finds success with its camera work and its actors. Shots of the barren, cold landscape of the Northern Central US go well with the shots that show the turns of despair and resilience on the pair of female leads. While Hayley Erin is great (she’s done a lot of work in soap operas), she’s limited somewhat by a script that could have done more with her motivations for the choices she makes in the film. (The script actually has a few gaps in logical flow of why things happen as they do, other than they need to occur that way to permit the plot.) Sonya Walger (who you may know from Lost or the CSIverse) is absolutely fantastic, and I’ve been a fan of Tony Amendola from his turn in Stargate SG-1. I still don’t want to be too precise in labeling New Life for it to find its audience, but fans of well-acted ponderous thrillers should appreciate it. Though technically SF and technically horror, it could be enjoyed by anyone who doesn’t gravitate (or even avoids) those genres. Though with flaws in the script, New Life suggests that John Rosman is a name to look for again in the future.
Book Review: FROM THE BELLY by Emmett Nahil
If you happen to be a fan of horror or dark fantasy and haven’t yet checked out the catalog from Tenebrous Press, take a moment and do so. I’ve yet to read all they’ve published so far, but I have gotten a good sampling and have yet to be disappointed. From the Belly by Emmett Nahil is their latest, a short novel filled with tense atmosphere and subtle thematic depth. Isaiah Chase serves on the whaling ship Merciful, a grueling life at the mercy of a demanding, cruel captain and the unforgiving sea. Sailors are carefully attuned to omens and occurrences outside of the norm, but Chase and his shipmates are rendered shocked as they open up their latest catch. From within the whale’s digestive lining spews a man, unconscious and unresponsive, but alive. While many want him tossed back into the sea, Chase argues for the strange man’s life. Though suspicious and disturbed, the captain remands the stranger into Chase’s care and responsibility, though placing him in the brig. The strange man awakens, but offers little in explanation of who he is or has come to be in this situation. Yet, Chase finds himself drawn to the man and sympathetic, even as inexplicable accidents begin to occur on the ship, a strange rot sets in through the holds, and the captain becomes increasingly unhinged. Though it all, prophetic dreams that Chase has had in the past return in full force, raising a specter of doom over the Merciful. You can taste and smell the briny air in From the Belly. The maritime horror is full of evocative imagery and an unrelenting tension from the opening pages through disasters as things gradually fall apart and to the bloody conclusion. Set almost entirely on the planks of the whaling ship – only a brief excursion to a bit of land comes – the novel effectively applies claustrophobia to its characters, trapping them within this degenerating situation without any escape in sight. The one criticism I would make of From the Belly would be that it does suffer a bit from the repetitiveness of slowly building dread within the limited setting and limited cast of characters. After a few cycles of: strange tragedies occurring, character confusion, speculation on the nature of the strange man, fear and hopelessness building – the pattern becomes familiar. Tighter pacing or earlier development of plot points could have lessened this. However, in the scheme of things, far more works tremendously well in From the Belly, from the rich atmosphere to the characters. The relationship between Isaiah and the strange man (who eventually gives the name Essex) is fascinating. They are drawn to one another and at times it seems as if Essex is supernaturally manipulating (taking advantage of) Isaiah, but then at another moment it seems as if perhaps it’s really the reverse. The attraction between them is powerful, and together they seem to have potential for something far greater than either on their own. I don’t know as the reader ever gets clear cut answers about Isaiah, Essex, or the pair, but there is certainly much to mull over. The secondary characters all exude that old sea salt vibe one would expect from sailors, yet this is all without ever seeming cliches. The setting of the novel seems outside of any particular time or place, not necessarily even on Earth, but with a mixture of anachronistic elements from the whaling days centuries ago (although it still does occur of course in some places) and modern social dynamics, such as female and male sailors working alongside one another and diversity in sexuality. Underneath this all, Nahil crafts a story that is from marginalized perspectives within the makeup of the crew, with a plot that touches upon themes of ecology and economic critique. It could all be reduced to saying that From the Belly is a parable on the destruction that accompanies greed. That is certainly true, but there’s also a lot more here beneath the surface.
Into the Wardrobe: READY FOR BLASTOFF! (1990) by Rick North
Ready for Blastoff! is the second entry in “The Young Astronauts” series, a collection of six middle-grade books published in 1990–1991 and “presented by Jack Anderson,” a nationally syndicated newspaper columnist and investigative reporter who passed away in 2005. The series is linked to the Young Astronaut Council, Inc., which still exists, providing school enrichment through a “STEM-based space-themed, pre-afterschool television show.” The origin of the Young Astronaut program lies in an oval office meeting between Anderson and then President Reagan in 1984. Anderson noted: “I’ve noticed two things about my grandchildren. They love space. They were excited about space. They hated school.” With a view on declining US student math and science scores, Reagan quickly adapted the idea into a political reality that developed into an international program of conferences, school chapter activities, and this series of stories published by Zebra books. I only found this second volume in the thrift shop, so I haven’t read the first book, but that didn’t really create any difficulty with getting into this one. It begins with a prologue where a UN/NASA international team of seven sixteen-year-old astronauts blasts off from Earth: destination Mars. The prologue introduces each of the team members, their personalities, and the struggles that they have gotten through to reach this momentous occasion. The team consists of Nathan Long (team leader), Karl Muller, Sergei Chuvakin, Alice Thorne, Noemi Velazquez, Genshiro Akamasu, and Lanie Rizzo, who harbors a secret. The prologue also sets up one of the novel’s antagonists, Suki, the leader of another team that will soon follow Long’s team to Mars. The twenty-one short chapters of the novel then flashback in time to show the challenges the team successfully faces leading up to their departure from Earth. These include both physical and mental obstacles, from nausea in zero-G simulations to imposter syndrome. As the characters rise to meet these challenges and trust one another to come together, the story demonstrates to readers qualities of perseverance and teamwork. The diversity of the characters is both a strength and weakness in terms of how well issues are handled, particularly from a present-day perspective. One thing covered well is the issue of socioeconomic privilege, though it’s not of course directly called that in a book from the 1990s. What the novel does less well from a perspective of today is the racial, ethnic, or gender diversity, which definitely comes across as being presented in typical fashion for the era: the diversity is there, but it’s still rather stereotypical and limited. For instance, the Japanese teen loves Godzilla, and the affluent girl loves fashion and shopping. While Nathan Long exists as a typical clean-cut, male leader, he demonstrates support and care, without domineering, bias, or aggressiveness. The name “Rick North” is a house pseudonym used for the Young Astronaut series, and this particular novel is written by John Peel, a prolific author of SF media tie-in franchise novels (from Star Trek to Dr. Who) who might be familiar to many readers out there. In all, Peel does a great job with Ready for Blastoff!, balancing plot and character development well within the book’s short length. He also includes several situations that show the characters using their minds and compassion to overcome mishaps or dangers. Aside from the competitive antagonism the team receives from Suki, most of the story deals with the team members having to deal with training while under the scrutiny of a hostile media writer and her photographer/cameraman. From this one volume of the series, at least, I’m reminded of Mary Robinette Kowal’s recent “Lady Astronaut” series. The two series share a lot in common in terms of themes, albeit Kowal’s for a more adult audience (while still readable by YA). I imagine that the “Young Astronaut” series would have been effective for getting young readers at the time more interested in STEM and space, at least those with nerd proclivities. I’m not sure it would have the same effect on middle grade readers today, though I could see this series being modernized and brought back, for instance through the involvement of an Abigail Harrison (Astronaut Abby) type STEM communication personality.
