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The Bourne Identity by Robert Ludlum

On a stormy night off the coast of Marseilles, a local fishing trawler recovers a man with a gunshot wound to the head.  The local doctor patches him up, but when he recovers, he has no knowledge of his past life.  Even his name is a mystery.

Fortunately, he has a clue to help him get started: a microfilm surgically implanted in his hip containing an account number for a bank in Switzerland.

When he arrives in Switzerland, he finds that the account contains millions of dollars, as well as a name: Treadstone 71.  Before leaving the bank, however, a squad of hitmen attack and nearly kill him, for no reason that he can possibly understand.

On the run from people he doesn’t know for things he doesn’t remember, Jason Bourne finds himself in a struggle, not only for his life, but to find his true identity.  But the answers, he fears, are much, much darker than he can possibly accept.

Okay, to start things off, let me say that this book is NOTHING like the movie.  NOT AT ALL.  The two are completely separate stories.  The beginnings of both are similar, with the whole amnesia thing and the bank account number implanted in his hip, but after Jason leaves Marseilles, everything gets different.  EVERYTHING.

For that reason, it’s difficult to say which is better, because they both try to do very different things.  The movie is more about the action and suspense; the book is more about the intrigue and character development.  Both succeed quite well at what they respectively set out to do.

That said, I enjoyed the book at least as much, if not more than the move.  Ludlum’s writing is quite good, and he paints an excellent picture of both the exotic European setting and the complex psychological portrait of his main character.  Unlike Crichton, whose characters often fall flat, Ludlum does an excellent job creating characters who stand up on their own right.

The suspense lagged somewhat in the middle for me, when the details about Cain and Medusa came to light (that’s one thing I’ve got to say about Crichton–he’s a master of suspense), but it wasn’t enough to keep me from finishing.  The ending, however, was atrocious–not in a clumsy way, but in a too-many-loose-ends kind of way that meant that the story wouldn’t truly be resolved until the sequel.  I hate stories that do that, but oh well, what can you do?

Overall, though, the book was quite good–better than I expected.  I can see why Ludlum was such a successful writer: he created interesting, capable characters and put them in exotic, foreign settings to fight ruthless, evil villains in a desperate zero-sum struggle for survival.

Interesting characters + exotic setting + high stakes conflict + good writing = win.  Oh, and Bourne is way more awesome than Bond. Just sayin’.

Waylander by David Gemmell

The Drenai lands have been overrun, and the Vagrian conquerors, led by Kaem and the Dark Brotherhood, are laying waste to all that lies before them.  Only the stronghold at Purdol withstands them, but unless the Drenai can rally a counterattack, all will be lost.

In these trying times, a strange old man visits the assassin Waylander and urges him to go to the sacred Nadir mountain of Raboas and retrieve the legendary Armor of Bronze.  With this armor, the Drenai commander Egel can rally the army that will save the kingdom.

But Waylander is a hunted man–a man of dark secrets and many enemies.  Kaem wants him dead for killing his son.  The Nadir want him dead for violating their lands.  And the Drenai want him dead for assassinating their king.

I love David Gemmell.  When you pick up one of his novels, you know exactly what you’re going to get: gritty, complex characters, bloody battles, ruthless villains, and difficult moral decisions that transform even the most depraved individuals into true heroes, if only for a few moments before they die.  Waylander is no exception.

Perhaps the most interesting part of the book is the story behind the founding of the Thirty.  When the young Source priest named Dardalion forsakes the pacifism in order to save the lives of his fellow countrymen, twenty nine fellow priests join him to form the band of legendary warrior monks.  This religious order goes on to play a pivotal role in some of Gemmell’s best works.

Waylander himself is also an interesting, memorable character.  During the events of Waylander, he’s basically hit rock bottom, but as he learns again what it means to love and fight for what he loves, he climbs out of that dark place.

I really enjoyed this book.  My only complaint is that the ending felt a little rushed.  All the plots and subplots get tied up, but some of them so abruptly that there’s little room to savor the emotional impact.  Still, the novel was quite satisfying overall.  I look forward to reading the next book in the Waylander saga.

Rock Canyon Writing for Charity

So a couple weeks ago, I heard of this for-charity writer’s conference going on in Sandy this weekend.  Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to attend the full event, but I did go to the evening extravaganza with fellow writer and quarkie Jimmy.

The evening session was great!  There were some excellent performances by Divine Comedy and singer/songwriter Nancy Hanson, and a giant question/answer panel with such local writers as Shannon Hale, James Dashner, Sara Zarr, Brandon Mull, and Brandon Sanderson, among others.

My question for the panel was “with the way the market is changing, what advice do you have for new writers trying to break in right now?” Most of the answers were pretty standard fare, such as “don’t write for the market, write what you love,” “don’t let all the crazy speculation keep you from writing,” and, perhaps implied more than spoken, “no one really knows how things are changing; just keep writing.”

At the signing afterwards, though, I was hanging out with Brandon Sanderson, and he had some interesting things to say on the subject.  When asked about getting an agent, he said that new writers should follow the blogs of the agents to whom they want to submit and join the conversations going on there.

Let me just say that Brandon is better to his fans than practically any other authors I know–and that’s saying something, because I have  yet to meet an author in-person who wasn’t friendly and gracious.  Maybe it’s something about sf&f; the community tends to be really good to its own.

Anyway, even with all the fame he’s gained from the Wheel of Time (he’s basically Tor’s biggest superstar fantasy writer right now), Brandon is still very accessible and down-to-earth.  He makes a special effort to remember his fans, and greets them by name (or by some other tag if he can’t remember names) when he sees them.  One of the guys asked if he could take a picture of Brandon with a message to his son, and Brandon not only took the picture but posted it to his twitter pics.

Overall, the event was a good opportunity to rub shoulders with other authors and aspiring writers from the area–and in Utah, there is certainly no shortage of either one.  Chatted with Dan Wells and Rob, an old friend from the first 318 class I took at BYU, as well as others. Besides that, the money went to buy books for low-income kids across Utah–how can you not feel good about that?  Great event–I’m glad I could go.

Mr. Monster by Dan Wells

John Wayne Cleaver wants very much not to kill you.  He wants it so much, in fact, that he’s made up a host of rules to keep his inner monster from taking over.  The way he complimented your shirt, for example–he said that to counteract the delicious thought of you tied to a wall, screaming in terror while he skins you alive.

It’s nothing personal.  He doesn’t hate you.  He just has a need–or rather, his inner monster has a need–to take your life.

You see, John Cleaver is a sociopath with all of the psychological tendencies of a serial killer.  Now that he’s killed once (albeit to save his community from an ancient demon), it’s getting very difficult for him to tell who he really is.  Is he his addiction?  Or is that a separate persona–one that he can control, suppress, and eventually overcome?

He’d better find out quick, because a new killer has arrived in town–a demon, just like the first–except this one is in touch with the Brotherhood.

This was a good book.  I enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed the first, perhaps a little more so.  The ending was awesome–excellent lead-in to the last book in the trilogy.  Too bad we have to wait a year to read it. <shakes fist at the universe>

Dan Wells is very good at writing strong, well-developed characters, especially with his main character, John Cleaver.  This might sound bad, but as a Mormon I can relate with John’s personal rules to keep his stray thoughts under control.  Not that I have a secret desire to murder people, but I’d be lying if I said that it’s easy to live a celibate, porn-free lifestyle as a twenty-something young man.  But I digress.

The best part of this book was the way the romantic tension compounded the basic conflict of John vs. his need to kill.  It’s not easy to date a girl when you have passionate dreams every other night of killing her.  That tends to make things a little awkward (just a little).  In spite of how sick that might sound, John and Brooke’s relationship is quite compelling, and I found myself instantly drawn to them because of it.  Again, it makes it easy to relate–not that I, uh–yeah.  Whatever.

Overall, the book is great.  However, I do have one criticism, which may be more personal, but I’m sure it applies to others as well.  When John confronted the killer, things got a little too disturbing for me–not the tense, wide-eyed, “oooh, what happens next?” kind of disturbing, but the “this is just wrong–why am I reading this?” kind of disturbing.  It didn’t make me put the book down, and the resolution was quite satisfying, but I did step back and ask that question at one point.

The ending, though, is pure awesome.  The last page–man, I’m looking forward to see what happens next!  And if there are only three books in this series, John Cleaver has to come to terms somehow with his inner monster–he can’t continue in this way all his life.  He just can’t. He’s got to find some kind of equilibrium.  And him and Brooke–well, let’s just say I’m very eager to see how the series wraps up.

Mr. Monster comes out in the US at the end of September (I borrowed the UK edition from my sister).  Like I said, it’s probably not for everyone, but if you can stomach a particularly gruesome episode of Law and Order: SVU, you shouldn’t have a problem with this book.  Or should you?  Guilt!  Guilt!

Shards of Honor by Lois McMaster Bujold

Cordelia Naismith never thought she would find the love of her life on a scientific survey to an unexplored border world, let alone that he would be a Barrayan, one of the enemy.  But Aral Vorkosigan is not just any other officer in the Barrayan Military.  He is courteous, fair-minded, thoughtful–and above all else, driven by an innate sense of honor.  To her surprise, Cordelia soon finds that she has more in common with the man than she thought possible.

But the rumors of war between Escobar, Beta Colony, and Barrayar soon conspire to drive them apart.  Though Cordelia sees Vorkosigan for the good man he is, the rest of the galaxy only knows him as the “Butcher of Komarr”–an unfortunate title which Vorkosigan does not entirely deserve.

As Barrayar goes to war and Cordelia finds herself rising through the ranks of the Betan Military, she is forced to choose between loyalty to her country and loyalty to the man she loves.  When the two are mutually exclusive, how does one preserve one’s honor while securing a degree of happiness?

I loved this book.  Unlike some romances, where the male protagonist is a complete douchbag, Aral Vorkosigan is the kind of guy I’d like to be like.  Bujold strikes an excellent balance between strong and sensitive that enhances, rather than taints, his manliness.  Besides that, Vorkosigan is extremely fascinating, with a complicated backstory and motivations that are both believable and interesting.

Though it’s technically a romance, the book reads very much like military science fiction, with deliciously tongue-in-cheek phrases like “the cadet was too young to believe in death after life” and rigorous attention to the details of military life, such as rank and chain of command.  The book definitely has enough explosions, space battles, and political intrigue to appeal to boys as well as the romance audience, but Bujold melds the space adventure elements seamlessly with the romantic elements, so that readers of either genre don’t feel left out or patronized.

There was only one thing that bothered me, and since it contains spoilers I’ll put it in black so that you don’t inadvertently see it.  To read it, highlight the text:

After Cordelia ran away from home and married Vorkosigan, why did she never think about her homeland again? You would think that as a career military officer who had dedicated her life to her country, she would at least have some lingering doubts that she’d done the right thing by running away–especially when her husband became the new Lord Regent of Barrayar! To me, this seems in-congruent with her character.

All things considered, though, this was an excellent, well-written science fiction adventure/romance. I thoroughly enjoyed it and will definitely be reading more of Lois McMaster Bujold’s work again.

Wolverton interview and more

The interview with Dave Wolverton was a resounding success!  We had a fascinating conversation about science fiction and the gospel, his latest book In The Company of Angels, self-publishing, the English 318 class at BYU and the profound impact it’s had on the LDS writing community, and much, much more.

On that, I suppose I should disclose my full reasons for going down to St George and meeting with Dave.  I’m putting together an article for the December 2010 issue of Mormon Artist, where I hope to give a brief history of BYU’s “class that wouldn’t die” and explore the impact that it’s had on both the LDS writing community and on mainstream sf&f.

The “class that wouldn’t die” was the group of students who signed up for the first English 318R science fiction creative writing class at BYU, back in ’78 (I think it was ’78…gotta check that).  After the semester was over, the students banded together through forming a writing group, which they called “Xenobia.”

They didn’t stop there, however.  As Xenobia grew and matured, the students decided to form other organizations designed to help new writers (especially sf&f writers) improve their craft and build their writing careers.  Specifically, they founded Quark, BYU’s science fiction and fantasy club; Leading Edge, a student-run magazine that gives written feedback to every story submitted; and LTUE, an annual science fiction and fantasy symposium (like a convention, only no costumes).

These organizations, as well as the 318 class, led directly to the explosion of LDS writers in science fiction and fantasy.  Several bestselling LDS authors, including Stephanie Meyers, Brandon Sanderson, and Dan Wells (among many others) can trace the launch of their careers back to this class.  In turn, these authors are having a tremendous impact on mainstream sf&f literature.

The article is slated to come out in next December’s issue of Mormon Artist Magazine, just in time for LTUE 2011 (which I hope to attend).  Right now, I’m in the research phase, meeting with some really amazing people and gathering some fascinating stories.  This article is going to be awesome.

In parting, let me share one of the more interesting things Dave said in the interview.  As we talked about all these amazing resources available for sf&f writers in Utah valley, I asked him why this happened in this community and not elsewhere.

His answer was extremely insightful: for many writers, the mentality is that once you break in, you have to close the gate behind you.  It’s something of a zero-sub game, where people horde their ideas, compete with each other to break in, etc.

Not so in the LDS community.  As Latter-day Saints, we have a deep-set mentality of helping each other and building each other up.  That’s exactly what happened with the “class that wouldn’t die”–they did everything they could to foster other writers.  The proliferation of Latter-day Saints in mainstream sf&f is a direct result of this.

That’s Dave’s take on it, anyway.  It will be interesting to hear what others think.

Oh, and FYI, Mormon Artist is 100% volunteer run and free, so when the article and interview come out, you won’t have to pay anything to read them.  I’ll certainly provide links on this blog–stay tuned!

And as one final note, check out this piece of Xenobia history: the original Quantum Duck, as featured in the first issue of The Leading Edge.  Why a quantum duck, you ask?  Because that’s where the club’s name came from: a bumper sticker that said: BEWARE THE QUANTUM DUCK THAT GOES ‘QUARK,’ ‘QUARK’!

T-minus 600 hours and counting

Haircut: check.
Clean clothes: check.
Bag lunch and dinner: check.
Chilled water bottles: check.
Directions to St George from Provo: check.
Interview questions: check.
iRiver 800 with sufficient recording space: check.
iRiver to USB cord: check.
Extra batteries: check.
Asus netbook: check.
2003 Buick LeSabre Custom: check.
4+ hours of ocremix and other music: check.
Copy of On My Way to Paradise to get signed: check.

Tomorrow I am going on a road trip to St George, Utah to interview bestselling author Dave Farland (aka Dave Wolverton) for Mormon Artist magazine.  Wish me luck!

Monster Hunter International by Larry Correia

Owen Zastava Pitt wants nothing more than to be a mild-mannered accountant with a comfortable, boring life.  Unfortunately, fate has other plans.  His father–a retired green beret–brought him up to be a killing machine, with or without a firearm.  To pay for college, Owen worked alternately as a bouncer and a highly illegal cage fighter.  But all that’s behind him now; he has a respectable job–one where he isn’t required to kill things for a living.

When his boss turns out to be a werewolf, however, and Owen single-handedly kills him, all of that changes.  A guy shows up at the hospital with a business card for a company called “Monster Hunter International,” and promises to help him make a lot of money killing things for a living.  It turns out that vampires, wights, werewolves, and evil tentacled monsters are real, and the business of monster hunting is quite lucrative.

At first, Owen is hesitant.  But when an old Jewish man starts showing up in his dreams, telling him about an ancient, evil plot to subjugate the world,  he realizes that he has little choice in the matter.  Fate has given him a calling–or, as the old man likes to say, the “short end of stick.”

If  you’re a gun fanatic or a B-movie connoisseur, you’ll love this book.  It’s basically Men in Black meets Van Helsing, with enough firearms and weapons to make Rambo look tame.  Hundreds of mindless zombie wights?  Bring out your automatic 12 gauge shotgun.  Giant flying gargoyles the size of semi-trucks?  Hope you brought enough RPGs and grenade launchers to go around.  Hordes of undead swarming across Alabama?  Better arm the 5-kiloton tactical nukes.

The story was quite entertaining, with enough comedic and romantic subplots to keep things interesting.  The battle between good and evil was pretty clear cut and unambiguous, with evil being measured by how many tentacles a thing has, but some of the monsters (such as the vampires) were much more complex.  When you have to decapitate your buddies after they die, to make sure they don’t come back as something that will kill you, that makes things interesting.

I felt that the second half of the novel lagged a little, especially with the number of false endings.  However, the ending itself was quite satisfying, with an interesting twist that caught me a little by surprise.  The quality of Correia’s writing was a little weak in places, but the story was more about killing the bad guys than crafting beautiful prose.  In any case, I don’t think his intended audience will mind.

Overall, it was an entertaining, surprisingly fast read.  It’s not the type of thing I usually read, but I enjoyed it.  If you’re looking for deep, meaningful literature that changes the way you view the world, or a clean, wholesome read that’s free of excessive language or violence (Gamila, I’m talking to you), this book probably isn’t for you, but if you’re looking for an entertaining story about undead monsters where the good guys aren’t pussy-footing idiots, you’ll probably enjoy this book.  If you own more than one firearm, it’s a must-read.

Utah drivers are jerks

They really are.  Yesterday while I was biking up to campus, a young woman (probably a college freshman) pulled out of a driveway to make a right turn and failed to look both ways before turning.  As a result, she struck my bike, bending my rim and forcing me to replace it.

I got her name  and phone number, spent about an hour (and $54) fixing the thing, and gave her a call.  She didn’t answer any of my calls that day, but she called up the next morning to tell me that she’d talked with a policeman, that I was at fault, and that therefore she wasn’t going to pay me anything.

Of course I was frustrated at all of this, seeing as 1) I was a PEDESTRIAN on the SIDEWALK, and therefore not at fault, and 2) she had failed to look both ways before turning into traffic.  What if I hadn’t braked?  What if she’d hit me full on?  I could have gotten seriously hurt due to her negligence!

So I told her “look, whether you pay me or not, will you promise me to look both ways before you enter traffic?” And her response–I kid you not–was “have you taken a defensive driving course?  If you had, you would know that drivers making a right turn aren’t required to look right before entering traffic.”

WTF.  Seriously?

Apart from the $54, which I figured she wasn’t going to pay for (jerk), this last comment profoundly bothered me.  I only came out of this with a damaged bike–what if the next guy isn’t so lucky?  So I sent her the following text:

As a driver, it is your responsibility to look both ways before turning.  I don’t want you to injure the next guy.

To which she replied with the following:

As a cyclist, it is your responsibility to be on the correct side of the road and to give the right-of-way to who it belongs to.  This mishap happened because of your own wrong doing- not mine. I’m choosing to look past the damage you’ve done to my car, which I could very easily require you to pay for (and it would cost much more than your rim that was “damaged” because you a)were on the wrong side of the road and b)failed to yield the right-of-way. That’s my way of being kind to a disrespectful person such as yourself (you hung up on me in mid-sentence). There is no reason to call or text message me anymore because the issue is over with. Any other text messages or calls I receive from will be considered harassment, and I will file charges against you.

A few things:

  1. As a pedestrian, the right-of-way was mine–that was what the Provo police told me when I called them today;
  2. While I shared some of the blame for riding on the wrong side of the road, she violated the law by failing to yield the right of way when crossing from private property onto a public street (again, taken from the officer I spoke with);
  3. I seriously doubt her car received any more damage than a few scratches, whereas I have the bent rim to prove that the “damages” to my bike were very real;
  4. I hung up on her mid-sentence because she kept pushing me to admit that I was at fault and that she was not in the wrong–instead of calling to apologize and work things out, she called to seek validation for shafting me.

What a jerk.  She’s lucky I’m not taking this to her insurance company and trying to resolve it with them.  While I’m sure that she fully deserves the rate hike and the stain on her record, I just don’t want to deal with the hassle.

The next time this happens, though (and I’m sure it will, because Utah drivers act as if pedestrians don’t exist), I’m going to call the police and resolve the issue with the law.  I no longer trust Utahans to be honest and forthright in settling issues like this civilly.  If you’re on the road and they can screw you, believe me, they will.