I’d Tell You I Love You, But Then I’d Have to Kill You – Ally Carter

Cammie Morgan is a Gallagher girl – she not only attends, but is daughter of the principal at Gallagher Academy for Exceptional Young Women. Truly exclusive, Gallgher’s is a private school like no other, for it educates the next generation of America’s spies and high hopes are held for the child of two of the most successful covert operatives of recent times, even if Cammie’s father died on a mission.
Appropriately, given her name, Cammie’s specialty is camouflage. She’s able to blend in to the background at will, which comes in useful when she and a cadre of her friends are set their first task – to follow highly paranoid former agent-turned teacher Professor Smith and determine what he drinks with his donut during the Roseville town fair. What Cammie doesn’t expect is to meet a town boy – and Josh doesn’t stand a chance against a group of girls trained in espionage and surveillance.
ITYILYBTIHTKY is the first in a series that is billed as a successor to boarding-school-with-a-twist success, Harry Potter. It’s not even close, reminding me far more of an American version of Muchamore’s CHERUB series but with less grit, guts and believability. I didn’t find the universe at all compelling or absorbing, the characters rarely moved beyond two dimensionality, and the ending was a dull thud. I’m clearly something of a minority, as I saw three further instalments on the Waterstone’s 3-for-2 table (with similarly cloying titles), but I also suspect I’m far from the target audience. This is not a series that will appeal to the Twilight crowd, but perhaps to their tweenage younger sisters – it’s surprising, given how young the book read, that the protagonists aren’t also in the twelve to fourteen age range. If you’re not a girl, that age, and interested in action lite redeemed only by having a female protagonist, move on. – Alex

Adams + Clamp:Touch of Evil

When a local Vampire Queen knows she is dying she decides to take the ultimate revenge on a mortal enemy by turning her into the next Vampire Queen. Needless to say, our heroine isn't up for it and soon finds herself fighting off a whole hoard of vampires all attempting to bring her in at the orders of their dying, and totally insane, Queen.
These vampires will stop at nothing, and their most effective weapon is to threaten the family and friends of their victim. This they do until they force a showdown between the dying Queen and her chosen successor that results in the woman being infected with the vampire parasite.
Fortunately, with the help of her family and friends, she fights off the parasite and avoids a fate worse than death.
But the death of the Vampire Queen leaves a vacancy that is filled by another woman with a personal vendetta against our heroine. One can only assume that things are going from bad to worse from here on in.
This is the first book in a trilogy and despite the semi-cliff hanger ending could be read as a stand alone novel.
The story sets itself up with a summary of previous events. This is a peculiar choice for the first book of a trilogy. I immediately felt on the back foot. So much so that I went and double checked that this is indeed the first book of the series (it is). Perhaps these characters had a short story somewhere, it certainly felt like I'd missed some crucial action somewhere along the way.
Other than that I really liked the world building. Here vampires are the result of a parasite that somehow nests in the hosts brain and makes use of the person until they eventually die (usually about four years later). This is a unique idea as far as I am aware and very well presented. The world building is worth the admission price.
Sadly the story is let down by extremely poor characterisation. The heroine is, of course, beloved by everyone. In fact, most of unrelated male characters have been her lovers at some point in the past, and still care for her deeply. Though I am pushed to see any particularly likable behaviour, let alone lovable. Putting aside the fact that she treats her brother very badly, I lost all sympathy for her very early in the piece. When she goes to hospital after a minor accident and puts herself before a head injured child with active bleeding (justifing the action with the thought that she was unhurt and so would only take a moment) there was nothing she could do for the rest of the story that redeemed her in my eyes.
A great world populated by unlikable, and unbelievable, characters, I will not be following up the rest of this trilogy-Lynn

The Maze Runner - James Dashner

The first thing Thomas is aware of is the noise - a boom, then a horrible crushing, grinding, scraping sound that reverberated through his body. That was frightening enough, but when Thomas realised that the sounds were not only the first thing he was aware of but also the only things he remembered, he became terrified. He knew facts, but all he knew of himself was his name and his gender - not where he came from, who his family were, or where he was. When the shuddering, shaking container he awoke in finally opened, Thomas was confronted with a confusing world where nobody would explain the arcane and clearly important rules. Run by boys apparently aged around twelve to eighteen, each has a defined role, all of which support the Runners - they race around the maze that surrounds the Glade, frantically mapping the stone walls' twists and turns, avoiding the deathly Grievers and racing back to the safety of the Glade before the massive stone Doors slide closed. Though he knows nothing of this, Thomas senses that he's meant to be a Runner, too. The Maze Runner has a Hunger Games-like potential. Certainly the elements are there, but somehow they just didn't come together for me. A significant part of that is because Thomas was too much of a cipher, but far more was because not nearly enough the world-building was revealed, even in an oblique way that would allow the reader but not the protagonist to guess at a reason for the maze. All the boys come to the Glade like Thomas did - with no memory of anything personal, but a broad general knowledge. Some of them have been there for two years, and all have learned the value of routine and discipline, But Thomas' arrival triggers something new, including the arrival of the only girl ever sent. She carries a note saying she's the last, and something about her is familiar to Thomas; odd in a world where nothing is familiar. But although Thomas and Theresa can communicate psychically, we're never given an indication of why they're so different, or what that means. I was disappointed but not surprised to find that The Maze Runner is the first in a series, most likely a trilogy. I have no problem with trilogies, provided at least part of a story arc's completed at the end of each section. I had the same reaction to that discovery as I did last year when Skin Hunger abruptly concluded with "end of book one" - the pay off wasn't worth the effort,. Though it means I'll never know what happened to Thomas, nor why he means anything, I'll not lie awake at night wondering. - Alex

Bloodletting & Miraculous Cures - Vincent Lam

From the cover:

Dr. Vincent Lam's literary debut delivers an unflinching portrait of his profession, following a group of four ambitious young doctors as they move from the pressures of medical school into the intense world of emergency medicine, evacuation missions, and terrifying new viruses.
Through the eyes of Fitz, Ming, Chen, and Sri, Lam finds conflict - and humanity - in the most surprising moments. Together these doctors test the bounds of intimacy as they cope with exam pressure, weigh moral dilemmas as they dissect cadavers, confront police who assault their patients, and treat schizophrenics with pathologies similar to their own.

Subtitled Stories, this is a collection of interconnected short stories that combine to create a complex narrative whole greater than the sum of its parts. And the parts all sound completely up my alley - health care, the evolution of practitioners, exciting scenarios realistically portrayed, ethico-moral decision making, and even interaction with the dead (my current research focus).
Sadly, I was unable to enjoy the panoply of the whole, because I found the trek into Lam's literary debut entirely too arduous a journey to complete, stopping at page 69, roughly half way through the third story. I therefore can't render a review of the whole, but will quite happily discuss the parts I managed:
The first story, "How to Get into Medical School, part 1" is about Ming and Fitz. He's American, she's the daughter of Chinese migrants who have very traditional beliefs which don't include their daughter either distracting herself from her pre-med studies or her dating a white boy. Though Ming pretends to herself that she's only spending time with Fitz to improve her study, she's really attracted to him, and knows he is to her. what Fitz doesn't know - what nobody knows - is that Ming is dirty, and her academic success rides on the back of sexual abuse.
"Take All of Murphy" picks up when Ming, Chen and Sri are partnered together in the cadaver lab. They're cautioned to treat their cadaver, who they name Murphy, with respect; they're also expected to dissect him with care and according to the text book. But the text book doesn't include an ornate and clearly symbolically important tattoo right over an intended dissection site. The students have to decide whether respect for Murphy trumps their academic requirements.
"How to Get into Medical School, part 2" picks up Fitz's narrative - he didn't get into medical school with Ming, and since she started they barely speak. He feels as driven by his need to see her as by his desire to study medicine/be a doctor, until a chance accident gives him the first peace he's known in months. I have no idea how that ends or him, though, as I put Bloodletting & Miraculous Cures down at that point and just couldn't bring myself to pick it back up.
This was for two reasons. The first is that I didn't connect with any of the characters, and so I just didn't care at all what happened to them. I found Lam's creations self-oriented, relatively two-dimensional, with tragic histories included not as extra depth but in lieu of character development (Ming's aforementioned abuse, Fitz's motherlessness). This might have been alright if there was an emphasis on plot, but Bloodletting is Literature, so (at least in the part I read) plot isn't a huge narrative driver.
The second issue is that I was frequently snapped out of the book by the writing. Fitz in particular is overly analytical, self-conscious and introspective, his every move accompanied by an exploration of its deeper meaning and possible interpretations:

Fitz picked up a shrimp chip by its edge, dipped it in the peanut sauce with red pepper flakes, and crunched. His face became sweaty and bloomed red as he chewed, the n coughed. He grasped the water glass and took a quick gulp...
He coughed to his right side, and had difficulty stopping. He reminded himself to sit up straight while coughing, realized he wasn't covering his mouth, was embarrassed that his fair skin burned hot and red, wondered in a panicky blur if this redness would be seen to portray most keenly his injured emotional state, his physical vulnerability in choking, his Anglocentric intolerance to chili, his embarrassment at not initially covering his mouth, his obvious infatuation with Ming, or - worst of all - could be interpreted as a feeble attempt to mask or distract from his discomfort at her pre-emptive romantic rejection.

A couple of page later, after Ming has gone and Fitz begins to drown his sorrows,

The pain of rejection was a significant shade different from the longing of desire, he noted, though drawn from the same palette. This somber phase could generally be gotten through withal few more, and therefore justified the third drink. A washroom break. With the third pint came the brink between anger and the careless release that could sometimes be attained and was the goal of the drinking. Fitz tired to will himself into this easy release, to tip over the meniscus of anger that grew like water perched higher than the rim of a glass, but it didn't work today.

Really, a 'meniscus of anger'? I found the writing style pretentious, the characters flat, and felt that insufficient use was made out of potentially strong scenarios. Of course, this is a literary work, and these elements aren't exactly out of place in this genre.
It probably didn't help that my expectations going in were more in line with a House of God type work, perhaps without the awful first chapter of that classic work, and I anticipated the lucid writing of some of my favourite medical authors (like Gawande, Groopman or, if we're going for the purely literary fiction, Klass). This is my own fault, and not that of the author, for whom my expectations were raised by the reviews favourable and plentiful.
And I'm clearly in the minority - Bloodletting has not only been compared with medical television dramas like ER, Grey's Anatomy and House, it's been optioned as a similar series itself. With, I can only assume, significant changes. - Alex

Paper Towns - John Green

Eighteen-year-old Quentin has always had a mild crush on his neighbour Margo - once close, their paths diverged when they were eight and discovered the body of a man in a nearby park, for while Q was apprehensive, freaked and concerned about zombies, Margo Roth Spiegleman was invigorated. Ten years later, Margo Roth Speigelman appears at his bedroom window, like she used to, encouraging him to join her on a midnight adventure. There wasn't any question that he wouldn't do what she said, and though Q doesn't really understand most of what they're doing, he has more fun, mixed with more terror, than he can ever remember having before.
The next day Q's convinced that he and Margo Roth Speigelman have a future, of some kind. When she doesn't show at school he figures she's tired from the adventure of the previous night. But Margo's gone.
Paper Towns is in part about Q's search for Margo Roth Spiegelman, but it's also a coming-of-age novel about his search for himself, and his dawning discovery that who people are and our perceptions of them are very different things - a journey in which Walt Whitman's Song of Myself plays an integral role.
There are many things I really enjoyed about Paper Towns, from Q's clueless psychologist parents (who "generally believed that I was the most well-adjusted ... person on the planet, since my psychological well-being was proof of their professional talents") to the epic roadtrip Q, his best friends Radar and Ben, and Margo Roth Spiegelman's former friend Lacey. Mostly, though, I liked the lovely lines and valuable passages strewn through the novel, like Radar's insight that

You know what your problem is, Quentin? You keep expecting people to not be themselves. I mean, I could hate you for being massively unpunctual and never being interested in anything except Margo Roth Spiegelman, and, for, like, never asking me about how it's going with my girlfriend - but I don't give a shit, man, because you're you.

Or the observation that "Talking to a drunk person [when you're sober] was like talking to an extremely happy, severely brain-damaged three-year-old." Or Margo's statement that

That's always seemed so ridiculous to me, that people would wwant to be around someone because they're pretty. It's like picking your breakfast cereal based on color instead of taste.

Although, as a believer in random capitalisation (because "the rules of capitalisation are so unfair to words in the middle") she and I will forever be at odds.
The title, incidentally, comes from a copyrighting trap of map creators, which is only one of many interesting trivialities Paper Towns furnished me with.
Despite all these elements in its favour, I did close Paper Towns with a slight sense of anticlimax, though a happy-ever-after ending would have run counter to the whole premise of the novel. I suspect that, though I enjoyed the ride, some of that was because the characters, particularly the protagonists, are far more self-aware and perceptive than feels credible, though perhaps I'm just not spending enough time with young adults. I also have a copy of Green's YA novel An Abundance of Katherines, and hope for more joy with that. - Alex

'Scuse Me While I Kill This Guy - Leslie Langtry

Gin Bombay loves her work, and (mostly) loves her family - both are unusual, and they're inextricably intertwined, for though Gin is a single mother who's somehow been roped into leading the local Girl Scout troop, she's also a member of long and proud line of assassins who "invented the garrote, the ice pick, and arsenic."
The family usually meet every five years, but even though the last meeting was just over a year ago, Gin receives a summons in the mail. This can mean only one thing – someone’s in trouble. In her family, that also means someone’s going to die.
While assuaging her angst with a slice of Death by Chocolate cheesecake, a handsome Australian approaches her, intrigued by her assassin-related reading material. His name is Diego Jones, he’s gorgeous, and he seems interested in her. The only problem is that when she tells him her cover identity – bodyguard – he reveals that he’s one, too. Well, that and the fact that all Bombay kids are inducted into the family business after their fifth birthday – and Gin’s daughter Romi, who would have been nine at the next reunion had this unscheduled one not been called, now qualifies.
It will come as no surprise that Gin’s latest project happens to be the man that love interest Diego’s guarding. This is combined with her being tapped to discover which of her generation (among her brother, her best friend/cousin, and a wider circle of cousins) is betraying the family to law enforcement, creates tension and intrigue. Theoretically.
I really liked the premise of ‘Scuse Me While I Kill This Guy – assassins are interesting in the abstract, and the concept of relatively-ethical wrong-doers skirting the boundaries of conventional behaviour is a rich area to explore. However, I had several issues with the novel.
The first was that Gin is scatty and disturbingly casual about her work – she leaves the envelope with information about the hit sitting on a table for a day, shares confidential information, and is lead by her convictions rather than her intellect. She’s also bossed around by another mother, which seems unlikely in a career killer.
I could have overlooked these issues, though, had it not been for two other aspects. First, there were a number of gaps in the world building (nobody has ever known about this centuries-old assassination family? There are enough jobs to keep at least twenty-five professionals in America and Europe not only employed but able to live well? No government body has noticed or been concerned about a radar-blocked island in the middle of the ocean? Everyone’s successfully inducted in to the family around age five, every partner’s comfortable with full disclosure, and no family member has an issue with dissenters being killed?)
Second I found the writing style laboured – there are ‘witty’ little asides (“Every time there was a reunion, any one of us could be marked for termination. And I don’t mean with a pink slip.”), clumsy phrasing (“A stab of guilt hit my stomach…”), entirely too much coincidence, a neat and tidy ending in the last chapter, with a gift-wrapping of an epilogue, and an irritating family custom of naming family members for places. So in addition to Virginia “Gin” Bombay we also meet Dak[ota], Liv[erpool], Roma, Flo[rida], Cali[fornia], Missi[ssipi], Lon[don], Phil[adelphia], Coney [Island], Rich[mond]ie, Clinton, Savannah, Asia and Dehli, among others.
'Scuse Me While I Kill This Guy is relatively formulaic chick lit. It gestures toward urban, but is fairly frothy despite its potentially gritty setting. Good for a beach novel, when the sun makes deeper thinking not worth the effort, it’s not bad for what it is. Although I finished, and didn’t hate, 'Scuse Me…, I’m not going to be breaking land speed records to see what else Langtry’s written. - Alex

Sweet and Deadly - Charlaine Harris

Catherine Linton became curious about the flies around the house her parents had rented out; her discovery of a bloated body was a shock, though not as great as the local sheriff's identification of the woman as Leona Gaites, who worked as a nurse for Catherine’s father for over thirty years, until his death in a car accident, alongside Catherine’s mother, six months earlier. Catherine had never liked Leona, but her curiosity was piqued. A reporter for the local paper, Catherine decided to dig a little deeper – in to the town where she grew up, and the people she had known all her life. One of them was a killer, and Catherine suspected Leona was not their only victim.
Sweet and Deadly is a recent re-release from 1981, and it shows, in two ways. Unlike many dated novels reviewed here (eg Dead Beat, Ice Station Zebra), the first is less by technology or fashion than community attitudes, to women and (more strikingly) blacks. Though this aspect did provide somewhat confronting food for thought, on each occasion I was rather forcefully jerked out of the narrative.
The second reminder that some thirty years have passed since Sweet and Deadly was written is the writing. Despite some concerns I’ve raised about recent novels in her long-running series, Harris is without question a more adept and able writer now than in her youth. The writing is clunky (eg “She itemised his heavy shoulders and thick chest, surprising on a man of his height”), the characterisation cursory even for our protagonist, the romantic secondary plot rapid and not particularly believable, and motive for what ends up being four murders seems like something of a stretch, though admittedly inventive and not one I’d previously encountered. It seems a little unlikely to me that Catherine could have put the pieces together as easily as Harris portrays, and her decision to confront the killer rather than involve the police doesn’t feel consistent with her character, but she’s not my creation.
I can’t say I’m sorry I read Sweet and Deadly (a title that bears no relation to the plot), but I didn't get the novel I hoped for. I suspect readers who know Harris primarily through the steamy television series based on her Sookie novels will be particularly disappointed, as there's not a single amorous scene here. All in all I think this is probably not a bad reminder of my decision to read my own books this year, with less recourse to the library. - Alex

Someday This Pain Will be Useful to You - Peter Cameron

In the summer between graduating from high school and starting college, eighteen-year-old James Sveck decides he doesn't need to continue his education, and would rather move to an isolated farmhouse somewhere - maybe Kansas. His mother, an art gallery owner recently returned from an aborted honeymoon with her third, soon-to-be-ex-husband, and his working-class-made-good lawyer father are not pleased, and send him to a therapist. During his sessions with Dr. Adler James talks about his life, particularly the incident that happened while he was in Washington, DC, attending the American Classroom program.
Someday This Pain Will Be Useful to You is literature - James is filled with angst, more sensitive that the common folk around him, and appears devoid of the need for human connection. He has no real friends, is close only to his grandmother, and manages to drive away the nearest person he has to a proto-friend, because he's unable to understand societal norms. Had these personality traits been related to an autism-spectrum disorder they may have made his narrative more interesting - though difficult, I can think of at least two novels (Moon's The Speed of Dark, and the more well-known Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night by Haddon) that have carried it off well.
James, however, is not in any way disabled, except by his crippling sensitivity. Like the vast majority of adolescents I, too, was Too Sensitive To Live - every moment was filled with high drama, visible only to me (and, if hey weren't involved in it, my friends). I sporadically kept diaries at the time - like Someday This Pain... they don't make for interesting reading as an adult.
This isn't to say that I found the novel barren of interest - I finished it, and from time to time came across a line that resonated, like this one:

“My mother was right, but that didn’t change the way I felt about things. People always think that if they can prove they’re right, you’ll change your mind.”

But my common complaint when it comes to Literature, holds true here - nothing happens, nobody changes, and I didn't enjoy the reading process. Someday This Pain Will be Useful to You has been favourably and frequently compared to Catcher in the Rye. Another gap in my literary background, I'm ill-equipped to judge. Knowing the way analysing novels for English Literature generally reduced rather than increased my pleasure of the work, I am heartily glad I'll never have to study the themes, metaphors and sub-texts of this book. - Alex

Change of Heart – Jodie Picoult

When her husband died in a car crash, June thought she’d never be happy again, let alone find love. But the policeman who rescued her from the wreck and accompanied her to the hospital kept checking up on her and her infant daughter Elizabeth, and one morning June woke up to find her life had restarted – though Kurt accepted she would never love him like she loved her first husband, June also discovered that she could love as deeply and as truly once again, and Elizabeth adored the only father she’d ever known. Expecting another child, June’s life was perfect, until the day she opened the door to a young, odd man requesting work; though June was hesitant, he connected immediately with Elizabeth, and June took him on.
It was a decision that would tear apart her life once more, for Shay Bourne slaughtered Kurt and Elizabeth and, for the first time in over half a century, a New Hampshire prosecutor sought the death penalty.
Michael was conflicted about sentencing a man his own age to death – though unconvinced, the other members of the jury persuaded him, and became the twelfth juror to vote in favour of lethal injection. Twelve years later this decision has reshaped his life – burdened by guilt and plagued by anxiety attacks, he’s become a priest and found a kind of peace. That is until he’s assigned to be Shay’s spiritual adviser.
Maggie is a lawyer for the ACLU – her professional life is smooth and accomplished, but her personal life is narrow, peopled only by her rabbi father, hyper-critical mother, and Oliver, her pet rabbit. Restricted by her size, her self-doubt and her constant struggle against her mother's disapproval, Maggie is resigned to happiness only in regards to her career. Assigned to Shay’s case, she creates legal precedent when, learning that Shay wants to donate his organs after death, she fights not against the death penalty but against the method of lethal injection.
Lucius is an HIV-positive lifer, sentenced after he discovered his lover in the arms of another man and killed them both. An artist who uses whatever he can scavenge – from the candy shells of M&M’s to soot – to recreate portraits of the man he still loves, he occupies the cell next to Shay and narrates details of his last months, and the seemingly miraculous deeds wrought by Shay.
I’ve begun to find Picoult’s novels formulaic since reading My Sister’s Keeper, when she first used the technique of alternating between several differing first-person viewpoints in a linear narrative that builds toward a controversial event - a court case determining how much autonomy a minor has, in that case, or the campaign for a death row inmate to donate his heart after death, in this.
Entwined around the primary narrative is an ethically charged or controversial issue, the various perspectives of which are humanised and conveyed by the narrative voices. The opposing elements are generally intelligently articulated, and though emotion is present and influences perspectives, the characters usually retain their equilibrium and rationality. The final chapter is from a pivotal but previously unheard character, with a left-handed twist that jerks the narrative on to a different, often anticlimactic, track.
Familiarity with this technique meant that I spent much of the reading of Change of Heart making predictions about the plot, particularly plot twists, and about narrator and content of the final chapter. And I was right on all counts (spoiler alert): I knew from the moment I learned June was pregnant that the baby would be somehow unwell, and that her voice would conclude the novel. I suspected Shay found Kurt abusing his stepdaughter; once his sister, Grace Bourne, was introduced I suspected this mirrored abuse she sustained at the hands of her foster father. It was certainly clear as soon as Michael saw her burns that she set the fire that killed him, and that Shay took the blame to protect her, probably because he felt guilty about not being able to protect her from her abuser. Though I did not foresee the final, somewhat paranormal element of the novel’s final sentence, but by that time I was a little over the miraculous aspect of the novel.
I was also unimpressed by the method Maggie used to seek a medical opinion of alternative methods of execution that would be compatible with organ donation – because “it could take a busy doctor a week to call me back,” and rather than do any independent research, or call an organ transplantation coordinator, she pops into the local emergency department and fakes appendicitis so she can see a doctor. Not a cardiologist or cardiothoracic surgeon, not an immunologist, but whichever random resident assigned to assess her. I know ED physicians and ED nurses, and I can’t see the consultation she had with (the very gorgeous) Dr Gallagher happening. But things are different in novel-land, and he not only helps her but becomes invested in the case and the campaign.
All this could be interpreted as a dislike of the novel, and that would be an unfair impression. Picoult certainly manages to incorporate not only multiple viewpoints but also multiple, interrelated elements, many of which I was intellectually interested in.
They include: children with chronic illness; the fierce, protective love of parenthood; the natures of expiation, faith, mercy and truth; the willful blindness of those who do not want to see truths; the way experiences are shaped by perspective; the heavy, cloak-like bleakness of grief; the desire for vengeance; the theory of muscle memory, where organ recipients – particularly of hearts – take of characteristics of the deceased donor; the barbarity and irrationality of the US adherence to the death penalty; the inflexibility and biases of the prison system, including an assumption that all inmates are literate and speak (read and write) English; similarities and differences between religions, particularly Judaism and Christianity; the nature of divinity; the working of miracles, and perhaps the undoing of them; the shaping of Christianity, and alternative messages, including the Gnostic texts; the nature of heresy, and the history of the Catholic church; and the distortion of religion.
I was also moved on several occasion, particularly during June's recollection of Kurt's funeral:

Through the radios of the other policemen came the voice of the dispatcher: All units stand by for a broadcast.
Final call for Officer Kurt Nealon, number 144.
144, report to 360 West Main for one last assignment.
It was the address of the cemetery.
You will be in the best of hands. You will be deeply missed.
144, 10-7. The radio code for end of shift.

But the foreseeability of many of the elements gave Change of Heart too great a degree of predictability to me, and I felt as though she was just plugging different elements into their various, preassigned slots.
The Messianic aspect felt uneven, superficial, implausible and incongruent with the rest of the book.
Perhaps my reaction is in part because I only relatively recently read Handle with Care and so the parallels were more blinding than they would have been with more time. But I also found the characterisation, particularly of the women, somewhat uni-dimensional and weak - Maggie's obsession with her weight and resulting unattractiveness was irritating, and though in her thirties she read as mired in her teens; June was driven only by her enduring grief and her abiding maternal love, with no other personality traits portrayed - and that was disappointing.
Picoult's most recent book, House Rules, deals with an eighteen-year-old with Asperger's who's fascinated by forensics, and charged with murder. Lynn and I have decided that 2011 will be the Year of the Backlog, with no library books (apart from a few, predetermined exceptions); perhaps a twelve month break will give me enough space from Picoult's technique to enjoy it. - Alex

Show No Fear - Marliss Melton

Ten months after an intelligence mission in the Middle East went bad, CIA operative Lucy Donovan is delighted to be assigned to rescue hostages held by Colombian rebels. She's undaunted by the risk and the threat of harm; the only thing that troubles Lucy about the mission is her co-operative, Gus Atwater. Then known as James, he was the only man she ever loved, but Lucy left him when the aftermath of a bomb explosion left her unable to reconcile her terror with the promise of happiness.
Now a very buff Navy SEAL, and going by his abbreviated middle name of Angus, Gus rescued her from her most recent mission, searching for vital information in an elite Guard warehouse after freeing herself from restraints. Though convinced she'd have managed to rescue herself, thank you very much, her boss is wedded to the idea of a joint operation, and the insulting notion that she needs assistance - and that she and James need to play a married couple as their cover. Or something. I quit at the top of page 28, so I have no idea how the story played out. The plot is clearly far-fetched, but I'm prepared to suspend my disbelief quite high if the writing and characterisation promise a worthwhile payoff. And perhaps the brief insights into Gus and Lucy's personalities fail to do them justice - certainly the SmartBitches forum recommendation brought me to it, and those bitches are usually on the money. On the other hand, it was multiple recommendations there than caused me to read Naked in Death, so I knew going in that I don't see eye to eye with every member of the community (or even great swathes of members - do people come in swathes?).
My point is that the plot, or at least as much of it as I managed, was ridiculous but genre-appropriate. The characterisation was superficial, but again I didn't get very far. I warmed not at all to the heroine, who seemed mired in an unattractive combination of PTSD denial and unfocused shittyness, while the hero was something of a cipher.
what caused me to put the book down before I was 10% through, though, was the overblown, florid writing. In the first three pages, as 'seconds drain[ed] away like sand through an hourglass', Lucy is 'awash in a cold sweat' and then

Lucy's heart stopped.
It had to be the greasepaint that made him look exactly like her college boyfriend, James, The athletic body didn't jibe with her mental recollection. But as she took a curious step closer, his expression of horror confirmed her observation.

Okay, I've never been rescued from a terrorist warehouse, my cargo pants pockets stuffed with CD's full of important intel, by an old boyfriend. I have, however, been in an emergency situation and surprised by the appearance of an ex-lover. I'm not aware of a type of recollection that's not mental, but I'll ignore that tautology to point out that I, a non-combat trained person, responded with a brief nod, a frisson of surprise, and an immediate return to the emergency before me; Lucy, not quite so quick.
The writing's all tell, not show - not a facial expression nor a feeling goes unmentioned, from stabs of of suspicion to expressions "both guarded and disapproving.
As that brief extract demonstrated, the writing's a little... florid. As they're escaping, "thoughts shifted across [Gus's] face, too quickly for her to gauge." Really? Perhaps too quickly to decipher, or to read, but to gauge?
And, in common with poor writing, the characters rarely just say anything - in one scene alone Lucy amends, brazens, insists, quips with sarcasm and archly demands (in consecutive statements), explains, assures, protests, retorts twice, adds, cries in disbelief, counters, admits, answers and asks ("remembering with a pang the tenderness he used to show her"), while Gus counters, counters softly, quietly reminds twice, retorts, growls, grates, continues, repeats, articulates ("with a tremor in his voice") and actually both asks and says (the latter with a scathing look). He also "rake[s] her with another look, this one reflecting honest fear and concern." That's a lot to fit into four pages. In the interim, nobody looks - Lucy regards while Gus gazes. It was reading the line:

Lucy shook two Advil tablets into her hand and regarded them in her palm, lit up by the bright sunlight streaming through the airplane window...

that I decided I'd had enough. Next time I'll stick with Brockmann. - Alex

Sally Symonds: 50 steps to losing 50 kilos

From the back of the book -

In 2002, Sally Symonds was a professional success but a personal failure. Weighing in at 106.5kg and wearing size 24, Sally devised her own easy but highly effective way to lose weight that saw her drop a staggering 45kg in 33 weeks. Unlike many others, Sally not only kept the weight off, she lost even more.
This book follows the step-by-step approach she adopted to transform herself from a food-loving, exercise-loathing workaholic to the happy, healthy and (mostly!) wholesome person she is today.
Refreshingly honest, Sally’s mixture of creative yet practical strategies show you fun and worry-free ways to efficient and effective weight loss.
This book is what everyone needs to follow in Sally’s footsteps.

I’ve been feeling a little unmotivated of late (somewhat of an understatement there), so when I saw this book in my local library I borrowed it hoping to find inspiration. After all, it’s subtitled The inspirational story of how one woman halved her weight and doubled her life.
Unlike many weight loss stories this one isn’t pimping any particular program. In fact, one of the things that attracted me to the book was the author’s statement that, to paraphrase, she hadn’t included a lot of food and exercise information because most serial dieters already know that stuff. I also shared her frustration at the lack of stories from people who are confident and successful in other aspects of their lives but simply couldn’t lose weight. In short I thought I’d finally found a story I could relate to.
That is until page two where she admits to having a 250g chocolate block a day habit. And there she lost me. If anyone goes from eating that much chocolate a day to none at all of course they’ll lose weight, even if they do nothing else at all. That is not to say that she didn’t overhaul her entire lifestyle, because according to her book she did.
Still this wasn’t going to be the book I had hoped for. You know, one for those of us that have a mostly healthy diet and exercise regularly and still struggle to lose or maintain weight.
Much of what she says we’ve all heard before (and on a personal note I’ve done in the past or currently do). So unless you’re taking your first steps there’s nothing new here.
I can’t say that I didn’t get anything from this book but it was more of a refresher course than anything else. Like so many mothers I don’t have the luxury of being able to put myself first but it seems, from this and other stories, that the only way to succeed with weight loss is to make it your top priority.
It’s an attitude (and attendant behaviour) I have to consider very seriously before I apply it.-Lynn

How to be Popular - Meg Cabot

When Steph Landry was in the sixth grade she made the mistake of accidentally spilling a red Super Big Gulp on Lauren Moffat's brand new white denim D&G skirt. Lauren's always been the most popular girl in school, and it was an insult she refused to forget, even though she and Steph had been friends, of a sort, at least. More significantly, she never let anyone else forget it either, coining the phrase "Don't pull a Steph Landry!" and sundry variations.
Five years on, Steph's had enough of being shunned, and she's really had enough of having her name be shorthand for stupid mistakes, klutziness and poor planning throughout Bloomville. In the last week of summer vacation, going through a box of her best friend Jason's cool grandmother's stuff, Steph found The Book. A guide to popularity that needs only a little fashion tweaking to bring it up to date (pedal pushers and white kid gloves aren't going to help matters), The Book will be Steph's guide for the year ahead, allowing her to finally become popular, attract the attentions of Mark Finley (the coolest guy in school, and not coincidentally Lauren's boyfriend), and stop everyone in the world using her name as a punchline.
There were a couple of above-average aspects of How to be Popular, including several sub-plots (predominantly revolving around the imminent marriage of Steph's grandfather and Jason's grandmother, but the campaign for popularity is firmly in centre stage), and the style, which intersperses chapters with extracts from The Book, setting the tone for the chapter ahead.
There are several interesting elements, including wedding sub-plot, the family contrasts, and the observatory. chapter thirteen, and there were two sections I really liked - the first is in the was when Steph contrasts movies about bullying (though that word is, I think, never actually used, subordinated in favour of "mean") with how things work in real life:

[senders of anonymous mail] always get away with it, and the victims just have to suck it up and go around wondering for the rest of their lives who could possibly hate them that much - always suspecting, but never knowing for sure.

The second is when Steph talks with Lauren's best friend, who's been punished for the sin of talking with Steph, and which sparks Steph's decision to stand up to Steph.
Although How to be Popular was a mildly entertaining read, I found it ultimately disappointing. Some of my disenchantment undoubtedly stems from my age, and some from my cultural background and very different secondary school experience - though there were groups in my (private, all-girl, lightly-religious) school, popularity wasn't ever a thing, particularly in the academic stream I was in, and based on the equivalent Australian novel, popularity isn't as key, sport isn't as decisive an arbiter of worth, and cliques aren't as rigid here as in the US.
Most of it, however, comes from the predictability of having seen this all before. Sadly, How to be Popular has no surprises. Steph learns that life's not as fun when she's becoming popular as it looks from the outside, that prioritising the popular crowd creates distance in her other relationships, that her male best friend is really something more, that the gorgeous guy she's longed for from afar is really a creep, and that the most important things are standing up for herself and being true to herself and her friends.
If this message is new to a reader it's no doubt valuable. If not, the rest of the novel doesn't really compensate. - Alex

Undead and Unfinished - MaryJanice Davidson

She may be the Vampire Queen, but Betsy Taylor can’t read The Book of The Dead without losing her mind, a price she’s tried to pay before, with unsuccessful results. She’s had enough, though, and has decided that she’s prepared to make a deal with the devil, if that’s what it takes. Fortunately, Betsy knows Satan – she’s the mother of Betsy’s half-sister Laura. And Satan’s prepared to deal, too, provided the sisters pay a visit to Hell.
Undead and Unfinished opens with a four page catch up, leaning more heavily on recent events, a requirement I’ve mentioned before is peculiarly and irritatingly specific to the genre. Specific to this series is the glacial character development of Betsy who, three years after dying and waking as Queen, is still significantly superficial, her butterfly attention span instantly diverted by designer clothes or cute shoes. She’s self-interested to an adolescent degree, paying very little attention not only to things that don’t interest her but also to the people in her life.
The heart of Undead and Unfinished is Betsy (or perhaps Davidson) belatedly realising ten books in that she/we know next to nothing about the Queen’s consort, Sinclair. So, on a flimsy pretext, Laura and Betsy visit strategic moments in the past, all of which related to the evolution of Eric Sinclair from small child to young man, from newly turned vampire to companion to the most powerful vampire of all. Thrown in is a visit to 3010, where a humourless Betsy reigns alone over a colourless world, attended by zombies, and Betsy’s baby brother Jon is all grown up. For a brief time the point of view switched from now-Betsy to then-Betsy, including the final moments, where we learn about the origins of the Book and the chilling source of the skin it’s written on.
Well, theoretically chilling, but by that stage I’d pretty much given up on the whole thing. I’ve belatedly realised that I’m not at all invested in the main character, and so the events that will cause her to transform from Valley Girl Barbie to Post-Apocalypse CEO Barbie interest me only in that the change indicates her character will eventual develop. I doubt I’ll be seeing it, though, for I think I may be done with Davidson. - Alex

Naked in Death - JD Robb

Lieutenant Eve Dallas is dedicated to solving crime - as a lieutenant in the NYPD she's renown for her single-minded devotion to the task at hand. When a licenced companion, granddaughter of a Republican senator, is found not just murdered in her apartment but shot - a genuine rarity now that guns are primarily collector's items - Dallas is intrigued. When another licenced companion, this time with a very different clientele, is found the same way, Dallas knows she has a serial killer on the loose. At least as alarming is the increasing presence in the case of the planet's most eligible bachelor, Roarke.
Although she has every reason to be suspicious of him, both regarding the case and out of a sense of self preservation, Dallas is curiously drawn to the multi-billionaire, and the feeling appears to be mutual. But what interest could a refined, wealthy, suave and handsome entrepreneur have in a plain, thirty-something with no family, a background in foster care, and virtually no memory of her first eight years on the planet, or even her name?
JD Robb is better known as well loved romance writer Nora Roberts, with whom both Lynn and I have previously had mixed success. A recent thread on SmartBitches, discussing readers' most loved romance couples, revealed a strong affinity for the Dallas/Roarke relationship, which clearly starts with Naked in Death and continues through what Wikipedia indicates is well over thirty books and short stories. Ever a sucker for a good, strong romantic couple, and having discovered some of my favourite authors through SmartBitch recs, I tried the first Dallas/Roarke novel.
The "In Death" universe is set in the near future, after the Urban Revolt on 2016, the Urban wars that destroyed much of the country's infrastructure, and significant legislative change, from the outlawing of guns to the legalising of prostitution. Naked in Death takes place in the late 2050's, when America has significantly recovered from these tumultuous events - the average life expectancy is somewhere between 120 and 160, and there's a vaccine to prevent cancer. Roarke conducts some of his business off world, and there are many innovative technologies.
Perhaps the import of setting the novel in the mid-future (Naked in Death was first published in 1995) is greater in subsequent novels, but I could seen the point in this first of the series. There isn't anything massively different in forensic technology, at least from an amateur's viewpoint, and I found the idea of that much change in such a short period of time - an increase in life expectancy of 50% in under a century, significant non-terrestrial commerce and colonisation - unconvincing, particularly in the aftermath of devastating upheaval and infrastructure compromise. Okay, having legalised prostitution (or 'licenced companions') and a scarcity of guns contributed to the plot, but as someone living in a country where the former is currently legal and the latter rare, needing to move ahead several decades seemed unnecessary, but I could have overlooked it.
I had greater difficulty overcoming the writing, which I found clunky and intrusive - on checking the crime scene, Dallas notes that the apartment was "Neat as a virgin... and cold as a whore." On learning that the first victim "bought it in bed" she:

only lifted a brow. "Seems poetic, since she' been bought there.".

There are big chunks of exposition, so we learn about her abusive past not through an integrated flashback, or a confidence to her new lover, but by Dallas's therapist telling her what she already knows:

"Lieutenant, we both know I'm fully aware of your background. You were abused, physically, sexually and emotionally. You were abandoned when you were eight... For two years between the ages of eight and ten, you lived in a communal home while your parents were searched for. You have no memory of the first eight years of your life, your name, your circumstances, your birthplace..."

I appreciate that Dallas needs to start out somewhat cold and distant, in order to increase the warmth and openness a relationship with Roarke apparently brings. But I found her extraordinarily difficult to warm to. More importantly, nothing about the Dallas/Roarke relationship resonated with me - I wasn't interested in either of them, I didn't feel convinced of their attraction (on either side, let alone mutual), and I got an unpleasantly stalkerish vibe about him as well.
I appreciate that Roberts is well loved by a vast number of readers, both under her own name and under pseudonym. I accept that for a number of fans this pairing is one of the most romantic is Romancelandia (a term I met through SmartBitch creators Sarah Wendell and Candy Tan). but neither of these things is true for me. - Alex

Tithe - Holly Black

Sixteen year old Kaye has grown up accustomed to a nomadic life - her mother's in a band, and not exactly the most maternal or protective of women. When circumstances compel them to return to her childhood home on the New Jersey shore, Kaye is reminded of the imaginary friends of her youth, vibrant characters who never fully left her. And she discovers they are real, they are faeries, and she is too.
For some reason I didn't connect with Tithe at all - I didn't even persist for very long, quitting before I hit the forty page mark. Black has a strong reputation, and Tithe - the first in a trilogy - has also been well received and reviewed; this leads me to suspect that the fault lies with me rather than the novel, and perhaps I'll give Tithe another try when I'm in a more amenable mood. - Alex

To read Lynn's more useful review, click here.

Michael Crichton - Pirate Latitudes

Privateer Captain Charles Hunter has been hired by Jamaica's governor to explore the Mantaceros, an island fortress, where a treasure-laden (apparently) galleon awaits protection for her journey home to Spain.
Set in the mid seventeenth century, Pirate Latitudes is a significant departure on many fronts from Crichton's usual work, which tends to explore intersections of two or more of modern culture, health care, contentious issues, and emerging technologies. The manuscript was found on a computer and was apparently completed before his death, along with another novel (to be published in 2012, which suggests a lack of completion). I certainly found it less satisfying or engrossing than his other works, which I generally found absorbing and well-written. Unfortunately I just couldn't get into Pirate Latitudes, which I abandoned about 100 pages. - Alex

In Cold Pursuit - Sarah Andrews

Valena Walker has wanted for as long as she can remember to go to Antarctica. Her lifelong devotion is finally paying off – after much hard work, and more than a little wheedling, Valena is doing her geology master’s fieldwork under glaciologist Dr Emmett Vanderzee. But on her arrival at McMurdo base she discovers that Dr Vanderzee has been arrested for murder – the year-old death, formerly believed to be due to altitude sickness, of a journalist and Vanderzee critic. The only way Valena can avoid being returned to the US on the next ship is to turn her talents to investigation, and clear the name of her esteemed supervisor.

I came across Andrews by chance walking along the library shelves, and was interested in the number of hardback volumes in a series I’d not heard of. Apparently *In Cold Pursuit is something of a spinoff from her well known (though not to me) Em Hansen series, about a forensic geologist. Always up for a new twist on forensic science, and interested in learning more about disciplies I know little about, I found the idea intriguing. Sadly the first Hansen novel wasn’t available, so I picked up the first Walker one instead.

Which I sadly found drier than the continent on which it’s set. I didn’t care about Valena, Emmett, the random folk at McMurdo, the project, the journalist or the murderer. In fact, I didn’t even make it past page 50, which, considering the book goes for another three hundred odd pages, is something of a record. Perhaps I just wasn’t in the right head space, or perhaps I got off on the wrong foot with In Cold Pursuit, but whatever the reason I suspect the next Andrews mystery I pick up will be by Donna rather than Sarah. – Alex

Belle De Jour: The Intimate Adventures of a London Call Girl

This chronicle of a year in the working life of a professional sex provider is taken from the author’s blog. It relates how she got into the business, what she gets up to with clients and the trials and tribulations of her personal love life (as opposed to her professional sex life).
There is always a delightful sense of voyeurism in the reading of somebody’s diary-even if they’ve made it public-and I don’t think I would be alone in expecting this particular diary to be a little more titillating than others. However as a representation of life as a sex worker I found it offered nothing that hasn’t already said elsewhere before. I suspect the reason this diary got the attention it did was due to its being kept in a public forum in the form of a blog.
First for the good: This particular diary has a fun and friendly tone to it making it very easy to read. The author is unrepentant about the nature of her work and talks about the business without trying to make it sound particularly glamorous or onerous.
Then for the bad: It really gets quite samey very quickly and ends rather abruptly (probably a result of it being pulled from a blog which continued on after the book ends).
Overall an inoffensive read but not one that has left me with an urge to read any of the many other publications of this author.-Lynn

Pride/Prejudice - Ann Herendeen

Charles always knew he'd one day need to take a wife, but he never dreamed he'd find a woman who would catch first his eye and then his heart, until he met Jane. This distresses Fitz, had never been attracted to a woman, intellectually or sexually, until he met Elizabeth. And Elizabeth enjoys her intimate romps with Charlotte more than anything she could imagine doing with a man, though glimpsing Charles and Fitz together makes her feel curiously faint and flushed.
As the title indicates, Pride/Prejudice is a slashy reworking of Jane Austen's most loved novel, that incorporates much of the original plot, characters, dialogue and events, but adds a new and significant dimension. Taking place before and between the scenes of Austen's novel, Pride/Prejudice seeks to uncover a truth universally ignored - that the two male leads of this most well read of literary classics has a clear but unseen subtext. In Herendeen's reimagining, Charles Bingley and Fitzwilliam Darcy are enthusiastic lovers, the latter more so than the former, who's ready to move forward into a more adult (ie heterosexual) relationship.
When Lizzie goes to Netherland Park to tend to her incapacitated sister she not only falls out with Darcy but also spies a rigorous tryst between him and her sister's love interest. The scene distresses her, for she loves Jane and wants her to be happy, an outcome Lizzie considers unlikely given Bingley's otherwise directed interest. But Lizzie is also a little captivated by what she sees...
And that's where I left Pride/Prejudice. Perhaps it was just that I read it a little to soon after Phyllida, perhaps I'm just over the obsessive love of Pride & Prejudice, or perhaps I just wasn't in the right head space for it. Whatever the reason, I had the strong sense that, like Phyllida, the action would in all senses focus on the men, that the male relationships would be more complex and rewarding that those with and between the women, and that Lizzie's main role would be to support Mr Darcy doing as he desired while she was content with the scraps of their relationship. I may well have been wrong - that, after all, is the down side to halting only part way through a book. But I'm not unhappy with my decision. - Alex

Some Nerve - Jane Heller

Ann Roth is a celebrity journalist based in LA, but unlike most, she has a strong sense of ethics - she doesn't twist the truth, report on rumour and innuendo, and she doesn't stoop to sneaky tricks. But times are tight and magazine budgets tighter. When Famous magazine's editor Harvey tells her she needs to land Hollywood's most impossible 'get,' and interview with press-hostile actor Malcolm Goddard, he makes it clear that failure to deliver will result in a one-way flight back to Middletown, Missouri. It takes a little planning, a flash of inspired deviousness, and the recalling of a few debts, but Ann manages a brief chat with an expansive Malcolm - until he realises she's not a besotted fan, at which point he throws a tantrum. Contrary to her ethics though it is, Ann uses the scene to finagle an actual interview from Malcolm's publicist, Peggy.
The only hitch is that Malcolm insists on it being on his small plane, while he's piloting. And Ann's deathly phobic of flying. Despite her best efforts, she can't make it on board, and Ann returns to the small town where she grew up. She moves back into her childhood home, where her mother, aunt and grandmother have various phobias and fears, and she feels herself fading. Until a school mate (who still burns for her but for whom she never felt a flicker), now assistant chief of staff at Middletown's prestigious hospital, lets slip that Malcolm Goddard's scheduled for admission for investigation of a few worrying symptoms, under an assumed name. A little planning, a little subterfuge and a little revenge on the man who purposefully ended her career and Ann could have her job back. But at what cost?
Some Nerve is intended as a meet-cute romance, with a few unusual stumbling blocks on the way to the Happy Ever After, where Ann and Malcolm are united, both better, stronger people for the experience. The premise is not bad, and the secondary plot of medical malfeasance was entertaining, but I found Ann profoundly irritating and quite immature for a thirty-one year old. Some of that comes from my inability to understand why Ann didn't work on resolving her phobia earlier, and a little impatience with the strongly emphasised phobia sub-plot - Ann has fear of flying, of sickness and hospitals, of vomiting (witnessing or doing), of medication side-effects, clowns, and peanut butter sticking to the roof of her mouth. Her grandmother is terrified of germs, her aunt is claustrophobic, and her mother is both agoraphobic and afraid of "heights, dogs, and dentists, and she would only ride on escalators if they were going up."
There were also a few minor errors that pulled me out of the narrative, like the use of emotophobia (fear of strong or negative emotions) instead of emetophobia (fear of vomiting) by a hypnotherapist who specialises in phobia therapy.
Most of all, I was irritated by the whole second half, where Ann becomes a candy-striper at this major hospital in the middle of nowhere. I found most of the hospital scenes unconvincing, and thought that if I were a nurse working on the wards where Ann floated about I'd ask the volunteer coordinator to pull her - she blocks the way of a crash team, gives advice to patients, and repeatedly fails to knock and wait for a response before entering patient's rooms. The first time she does this Ann walks in on a nude man receiving oral sex. Instead of exiting quietly and closing the door, she tries to stop them:

"You need to stop now," I said with more authority. "You could become a code blue, and it would be my fault if anything bad-"
"Faster, faster," he moaned to the woman, who seemed to me to be going fast enough.
"I'm not kidding," I said, fearing the guy might flatline on my watch and that I would be held responsible. "Please stop."

Then she calls security, causing "a SWAT team" to charge the room. Authority? Code blue? Flatline? And above all, her watch? From a candy-striper on her first day.
I did finish Some Nerve, and I enjoyed parts of it, but for the most part I found Ann annoying and Malcolm more a cipher than a rounded character. I'll try others of Heller's works in the future, but perhaps not for a while. - Alex