Another Heaven, Another Earth is one of those books that I've always seen around...but I never read it. I saw it at the bookshelf at home when I was there for the weekend, and since it was one of the few books there that I had yet to read, I grabbed it and took it back to the cities with me.

All I can say is: It's about time!

I wish I had read it earlier. Not because I would have enjoyed it more (I enjoyed it perfectly well at age 19), but because the earlier I read it, the more time I would have to enjoy it. It really is a good book. And it's one of those great books where science fiction is the setting, not the whole story. I got the feeling that H.M. Hoover really cared about her characters--they were not just the eyes through which we saw the "gimmick" happen, which was good. (That happens too often in science fiction--the characters (and story) end up secondary to the MacGuffin that the story revolves around. And let's face it: we don't want to care about Macguffins.)

Anyway, it's a very human story, with several pleasant surprises.

Very recommended. I almost want to sit down right now and read it again.

Author:: Karen Romano Young
Pages: 388
Bears slight but startling resemblances to: Anansi Boys. Namely, they both deal with spiders.
Means of Aquiration: Bought it, 20% off (yay coupons!) at Borders.
General Impression: Excellent.

I didn't feel like going straight back to my dorm after arriving in Minneapolis on Sunday, so I took the train to the end of the line and went shopping at Borders (I had a coupon, how could I resist?) I saw several books there that I thought about getting (Note to self: write up a "most wanted" book list), but I eventually settled on this one. I can't comment on how good my choice was, since I still haven't read any of the other potential purchases... but I can say that I am very satisfied with this book.

Cobwebs is creepy, in a very likable way. I hate to fall into puns and clichés here, so to spare myself the shame, I will allow you to insert your own phrase containing some form of "web" and "to weave" here:

Okay, I'm glad that's done with.

Honestly, I really enjoyed this. The main character (Nancy) reminded me of myself when I was in junior high. (I believe Nancy is in high school, but I could be wrong.) Actually, she didn't remind me of myself at all...but I identified with her. That's special, isn't it?

The story, while often fantastic, is somehow also very real. Sometimes dreamlike, sometimes gritty. A book that I want to rub in someone's face while screaming "See?! It is possible to write an original fantasy novel!" (What can I say... some people deserve that.)

This book is exactly what I expected it to be--short, easy to read, campy, and from 1980. The cover boasts Now a Major Motion Picture Presentation from Twentieth Century Fox, and I'm not sure what that means. It was cleary published after the "motion picture presentation" came out, because it features stills from the movie. Also, it is based on the script. And what is a "motion picture presentation," anyway?

I can't recommend the book (although I've got nothing against it... I just feel that I would lose my credibility if I did), but the movie's probably decent. Between the two, I would choose to watch the movie, as most of the humor in this comes from the fact that the main character (spoiler! Sort of!) gets turned into a dog. Visual humor, you see. Despite best intentions, it doesn't come across too well on paper.

Even having said that, though, there's no better book to read for forty minutes whilst flying between Milwaukee and Minneapolis. It served its purpose well.

Abhorsen is one of those books where I cry at the end. You know the kind--tragic and wonderful at the same time. Heart-racing, heartbreaking excitement--and suddenly you feel as though you've lost your best friend, only seconds after finding out how close you really were.

Absolutely infuriating. And if you happen to be reading in a public space (such as, say, your dormitory's television lounge), you have to make hasty plans as to how to make it back to your room before anyone sees the tears streaking down your face. Because you really don't want to have to explain, to another stranger that when you read books, you cry.

Not that it is a sad book. In fact, it was wonderful, and it even (a spoiler, I suppose, though you'd nearly expect it, anyway) had a happy end, after a fashion.

In any case, it's worth noting that before I first finished Shade's Children, I was enamored of Garth Nix. And by the time I had forgotten all about him and picked up Sabriel, years later (It took several months before I realised he was the fellow who had also written Shade's Children), he was my favorite author before I finished the third chapter. By the time I finished the book, I wanted to kill him--or marry him. It's hard to say with those things.

Of course, that has nothing to do with Abhorsen in particular, except to say that everything I loved and hated about those books was present once again.

In general, it's exciting--more exciting than you would expect, as it focuses for most of the book on a wearying journey and some scattered politics. Very enjoyable, and it brings everything to a thoroughly satisfying end. (After all, though I neglected to mention it earlier, I was smiling through my tears.)

Terrific book. Reminds me of just how much I adored Sabriel, and makes me realise not only that, but also that I love Lirael and Abhorsen in and of themselves, as well. ...though I still need to read Lirael again.

When I opened the book, I wasn't sure who this book was going to be about. Was the main character going to be the titular Thief Lord? The funny, not-quite-bumbling detective introduced on the first page? Or perhaps the two brothers he was looking for? I wasn't sure what I was expecting, or even what I wanted. What I got, though, I liked.

Two young boys, newly orphaned, run away from their thoroughly unlikeable relatives... and where better to run but Venice, city of beauty and gold and light and winged lions? Where better, indeed?

Even after having just read and loved Inkheart, I had misgivings about reading Thief Lord. It seemed too clichéd to work... did I really want to read another book about parentless children, being roguish and clever and thwarting adults at every turn? I certainly did not. Happily, that wasn't what Thief Lord was about.

It got a trifle predictable here and there, but in general it remained fresh and exciting, with a couple twists I never would have imagined.

Ah, Eragon. Beacon of originality! A light of freshness in the dark night of fantasy novels! Let me tell you how it starts out: an orphan farmboy living Nowhere, Fantasyland (who has, of course, been taken in and raised by a townsperson--in this case, his uncle), finds out (in a time of great unrest in the country, although said unrest is only rumors in his backwater town) that Big Stuff is going on, and he's going to be in the middle of it. He is accompanied by an crochety guide who won't answer enough of his questions.

Now, does this sound like anything else you're familiar with? Lord of the Rings? Wheel of Time? Sword of Shannara? Star Wars?

Yeah. I was not enthused.

Despite that, though, I did get into the book fairly quickly. It's got a smirking dragon, which is something, anyway (although rather stereotypical in the category of "dragon companion" personalities). All in all, it's alright. I guess. That's all you really want to know, right? Good.

The magic "ancient language" in Eragon is pretty darn Germanic, too. "Gath un reisa du rakr!" and "Du grind huildr!" both look like things I might have had to translate in my History of the German Language class last semester. (Some meanings are right on, too. Eragon's gata means "path." In Swedish, it means "street." Welden (forest) is very close to German's Wald. Theirra means "their," which isn't quite as much of a giveaway as knifr meaning "knife." Eka means "I," which looks bizarre unless you're familiar with Old German's many baffling versions of "Ich." Stenr is "stone," wyrda is "fate," and I think you get the picture.) A couple other words almost scream "ICELANDIC!" at me.

Of course, the "ancient language" also has the word Aiedail for "morning star." And the language of the dwarves has the phrase "Isidar Mithrim," which almost has to be copyright infringement, doesn't it?

Before I say anything else, I will say this: There is a little gold foil proclamation on the front of this book that exclaims: Soon to be a MAJOR MOTION PICTURE! This means two things. First, you should endeavor to read the book immediately, if not sooner, because as soon as trailers and teasers and reviews start coming out about the movie, you'll already know too much about the story to properly enjoy discovering everything for yourself. (This is not to say that you will not enjoy the book, but simply to say that, as a rule of thumb, everything is better when you experience it for yourself, and this book is worthy of being enjoyed to its fullest extent.) Second, you should read the book before, after, because of, or despite seeing the movie, so long as you go in to it with an open mind.

It really is a good book, and I'd hate to have it ruined for someone.

Also, if you want to read it properly, don't read the description on the back cover. It gives far too much away. The first sentence on the back cover gives away something that isn't even hinted at until page 56 (the second clue doesn't appear until page 69, and nothing's actually stated until Chapter 16, which starts on page 136). I don't know who thought it would be a grand idea to give away the mystery of the first fourth of the book, but I don't think much of them.

Anyway.

This was a wonderfully long book, the sort where you get to the middle, and you realise that a normal book would be over, or just getting into the last two chapters... and you've still got half a book to go! For me, that is a wonderful feeling. Especially with a book I like as much as Inkheart. I read it all yesterday--positively devoured it. I haven't read a book that way for a very, very long time (and I've missed it.)

After my lecture on not letting people spoil books for you, I'm not sure what I can say about the story without giving anything too wonderful away.

There is a wonderful, horrible, evil villain, straight out of fantasy. There is an annoying aunt (who isn't really that bad after all). There is a dad who could win the Atticus Finch Award for being a wonderful father. There is a shifty man who juggles fire. There is a special sort of magic that all bookworms wish they had--now that I've read Inkheart, I'm glad I never did have it. There are fairies and monsters--real and imagined, human and unhuman.

It's a book for people who love adventure (but who might not love it so much if they ever found themselves having one.) It's a book for people who believe in happy endings (although nothing ever ends completely well in real life.) It's a book for people who know and love the characters they read out of stories (even though they have never really met them). Most of all, it is a book for people who love books.

See below for quotes.

Meggie took another step backward, but Dustfinger kept advancing toward her.

"I don't suppose you'd get any fun from terrifying people until their knees were so weak they could hardly stand?" he asked. "Nothing gives Capricorn more pleasure. And I don't suppose you think you can just help yourself to anything you want, never mind what or where. Capricorn does. Unfortunately, your father has something Capricorn has set his heart on."
-Page 25

Meggie did not reply. She wasn't sure herself why she had asked the question. "This book is very valuable, isn't it?" she asked.

"What, Inkheart?" Elinor took it from Meggie's hand, stroked the binding, and then gave it back. "I think so. Although you won't find a single copy in any of the catalogs or lists of valuable books. But I'm sure that many collectors would offer your father a great deal of money if word got around that he has what may be the only copy. Actually I found out quite a lot about it, and I believe that it's not just a rare book, but a good one, too. I can't give an opinion on that. I scarely managed a dozen pages last night."
-Pages 86 and 87

Now, I won't say that "this book is the reason Neil Gaiman is my favorite author," because that would be lying. Firstly, Neil Gaiman was my favorite author well before I read this book. Secondly, it isn't even my favorite book from him. But it might as well be, because a "good" book from Gaiman outshines even a "great" book or even an "excellent" book from almost anyone else.

I liked this book. It took a little while for me to get into it, but very soon I was into the swing of things. Fat Charlie's sense of humor made me laugh--he's one of those people who thinks darkly funny, blunt, bitter comments in his head, and he can't resist saying them out loud. (Actually, in that respect, he reminds me a bit of Richard from Neverwhere. Although I can't properly remember any of Neverwhere, they kind of give off the same vibe.) His matter-of-factness was delicious (see the first quote below for an example of this).

Neil Gaiman defies genre. Was the book a crime novel, a mystery, a fantasy, a horror story, a ghost story, a folktale, a comedy? Yes, all of those things. Is it utterly pointless to list every genre that it belongs to? Yes! (What's even more funny is when you have a book like Coraline, and you have to throw "Children's Book" in the mix of categories as well.) I love the fact that Gaiman's stories are about the story, and not about what the story is supposed to be, or where it belongs.

You should read this book.

Also, both times that I tried to type the word "utterly" above, I ended up typing "utterfly" and didn't notice until a couple days later.

Click below for quotes.

"You know," said Fat Charlie, "you could have warned me."

"I did warn you that he is a god."

"You didn't mention that he was a complete and utter pain in the arse, though."
-Page 134

Daisy made a noise. It was not a yes-noise and it was not a no-noise. It was an I-know-somebody-just-said-something-to-me-and-if-I-make-a-noise-maybe-they'll-go-away sort of noise.

Carol had heard that noise before.

"Oy," she said. "Big bum. Are you going to be much longer? I want to do my blog."

Daisy processed the words. Two of them sank in. "You you saying I've got a big bum?"

"No," said Carol. "I'm saying that it's getting lae, and I want to do me blog. I'm going to have him shagging a supermodel in the loo of an unidentified London nightspot."

Daisy sighed. "Alright. It's just fishy, that's all."

"What's fishy?"

"Embezzlement. I think. Right, I've logged out. It's all yours. You know you can get into trouble for impersonating a member of the royal family?"

"Bog off."

Carol blogged as a member of the British Royal Family, young, male, and out-of-control. There had been arguments in the press about whether or not she was the real thing, many of them pointing to things she wrote that could only have been known to an actual member of the British Royal Family, or to someone who read the glossy gossip magazines.
-Page 138

I'm a fan of Bryson's The Lost Continent, but Neither Here Nor There didn't have quite the charm I was expecting. Perhaps it was the monotony: in each city he visits, the reader is treated to what he does there, which is largely limited to "Found a hotel, which was expensive. Wandered about the city. Visited an old church, and got to drinking."

Just the same, I did quite enjoy it, though it dragged intolerably at the end. I'd be lying if I said I didn't giggle uncontrollably at several points, and while I shant be reading it again for some time, I probably shall dig it out again in the future.

Yay or Nay? Yay.

Click below for quotes.

...Once, in Bavaria, Katz and I recklessly ordered Kalbsbrann from an indecipherable menu, and a minute later the proprietor appeared at our table, looking hesitant and embarrassed, wringing his hands on a slauterhouse apron.

"Excuse me so much, gentlemens," he said, "but are you knowing what Kalbsbrann is?"

We looked at eachother and allowed that we did not.

"It is, how you say, what ze little cow thinks wiz," he says.

Katz swooned. I thanked the man profusely for his thoughtfulness, though I daresay it was a self-interested desire not to have two young Americans projectile-vomiting across his dining room that brought him to our talbe, and asked him to provide us with something that would pass for food in Iowa.
-Pages 73 and 74