Customer Comments

I don't read a lot of fantasy (I'm more of a science fiction guy), but picked up this book because it was one of the 2011 Hugo nominees for best novel--and I loved it. The second book is also excellent, albeit very different; and the third is already on my bookshelf, waiting for me. Highly recommended.

This was DC's tribute to the full-page Sunday newspaper comics of yore. The results are a mixed bag, but definitely worth a look. There's a wide range of storytelling talent and art styles on display here. Neil Gaiman's Metamorpho tale gets a lot of mileage out of tweaking genre tropes and panel layout conventions. The Wonder Woman pages were too busy for me, visually, but I was pleasantly surprised by the stories featuring lesser-known characters like Kamandi and Deadman. And I think someone may finally have found the right tone for a Supergirl story.

Logline: a near-future techno-thriller involving alternate reality games (ARGs). I mostly agree with Larry Hosken that it was "a fun bit of fluff," but I have four big nitpicks: * HTML is not case-sensitive; * many puzzles are mentioned in the story, but few are shown or even described; * I didn't believe the "banana split" puzzle would have been unsolvable--I've been GC, and I've seen much tougher nuts get cracked in seconds; and * most of Chapter Twenty-One. Williams acknowledges Sean Stewart in his notes, and some of the game setups are lifted right out of The Beast. Some research clearly went into this novel, but I didn't ever feel like the author really grokked the ARG scene. I guess that's really my biggest complaint. Other than being able to use a large number of dedicated followers to perform complex, distributed tasks, there wasn't much in this story that was specific to the ARG community. You could have told pretty much the same tale with a really dedicated group of online knitting enthusiasts... who discover a long-lost cross-stitch pattern... which leads to a hidden treasure! This Is Not a Quilt, anyone?

The art is pretty sophisticated for a children's book--I'd put it on par with adult graphic novels. Overall, I really liked the story--making Rapunzel a tomboy heroine was a nice twist (no pun intended)--but I did roll my eyes about halfway through, when the narrative turned into a video game. Seriously. Random NPCs pop up to ask Rapunzel and her companion Jack to help them by completing various quests, for which they get some information or other kind of reward. This device is known in the Turkey City Lexicon as "plot coupons," and I suppose it's good enough for a younger audience, but still. I feel like the authors could have done better.

I'm not really spoiling anything when I tell you that the "Wall" in the title refers to Amanda Waller, Checkmate's "White Queen." I mean, the cover image tells you that. And you know she'll be back. That gal always manages to land on her feet. One of the major B-stories in this arc is the workplace romance between Mr. Terrific and Sasha Bordeaux, which, for my money, wasn't really necessary, but served as a nice counterpoint to the constant threats to life-death-reputation-career that these characters endure. Rucka knows how to torture his protagonists. This volume ends with a standalone tale focusing on the Black Queen's Knight, Josephine Tautin, a.k.a. "Mademoiselle Marie;" and then there's a coda titled La Vie en Sang, and that alone may be worth the price of the book for some. Stories of heroic sacrifice always get me.

It's an interesting idea: a nested sequel to Kingdom Come, using the ol' parallel-universe trick to tell a story in one reality which takes place in the blink of an eye in another reality. Using the Justice Society of America was also an interesting choice, and not entirely successful. Frankly, the current JSA is overstuffed with B-list heroes from the DC universe, and though I do like many of them, and can appreciate the whole "legacy" theme--many of the characters are descendants of previous superheroes--I thought too many of the cast here were shorthanded into one-dimensionality. It's a common problem with "ensemble" shows, and even Joss Whedon trips over it sometimes. I am, however, a sucker for a good happy ending, and this arc puts a nice bow on the whole Kingdom Come storyline. I can recommend it for that reason, if nothing else.

It's an interesting idea: a nested sequel to Kingdom Come, using the ol' parallel-universe trick to tell a story in one reality which takes place in the blink of an eye in another reality. Using the Justice Society of America was also an interesting choice, and not entirely successful. Frankly, the current JSA is overstuffed with B-list heroes from the DC universe, and though I do like many of them, and can appreciate the whole "legacy" theme--many of the characters are descendants of previous superheroes--I thought too many of the cast here were shorthanded into one-dimensionality. It's a common problem with "ensemble" shows, and even Joss Whedon trips over it sometimes. I am, however, a sucker for a good happy ending, and this arc puts a nice bow on the whole Kingdom Come storyline. I can recommend it for that reason, if nothing else.

It's an interesting idea: a nested sequel to Kingdom Come, using the ol' parallel-universe trick to tell a story in one reality which takes place in the blink of an eye in another reality. Using the Justice Society of America was also an interesting choice, and not entirely successful. Frankly, the current JSA is overstuffed with B-list heroes from the DC universe, and though I do like many of them, and can appreciate the whole "legacy" theme--many of the characters are descendants of previous superheroes--I thought too many of the cast here were shorthanded into one-dimensionality. It's a common problem with "ensemble" shows, and even Joss Whedon trips over it sometimes. I am, however, a sucker for a good happy ending, and this arc puts a nice bow on the whole Kingdom Come storyline. I can recommend it for that reason, if nothing else.

Meh. This was an "impulse buy" at the library (wasn't looking for it, saw it on the shelf, checked it out), and while it wasn't bad, it didn't knock my socks off or anything. I'm not a huge X-Men fan--I was always more of a DC man myself--but I enjoyed a lot of the Ultimate X-Men trades and Joss Whedon's stint on Astonishing X-Men, and I feel like I know enough backstory to jump into the current continuity without drowning. The point, though, is that I shouldn't need to know what happened six issues or six years ago in order to understand and care about what's happening now in the story. Here's the example I always use. In 2003, my wife and I went to see Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World on a whim, knowing almost nothing about the movie or the book series it was based on. I've never been rabid about costume dramas, or pirates, or old-timey sailing ships, so I was not particularly predisposed to love this movie. But I did love it, enough to buy the DVD later, because it worked as a standalone tale. I didn't need to know anything about Aubrey and Maturin or the Napoleonic Wars in order to enjoy the adventure. Anyway. This story relies on a lot of Kitty's backstory, and features a few characters from her past in pivotal roles, but doesn't invest much in fleshing them out in the present. I suspect it would have been a more satisfying read for someone who was more of an X-Men fan, and there are plenty of those, but it didn't do much for me. That said, I'm still hoping for a Kitty Pryde movie starring Ellen Page. And so are you. Trust me.

There's a certain talent required to take a character as ridiculous as Egg Fu and turn him into not just a plausible villain, but an actual scary mofo. Some of that is the art, certainly, but Greg Rucka's take-no-prisoners writing style doesn't hurt. One of the interesting things about reading the same characters in different comics is seeing how their portrayal changes depending on who's writing them. Sometimes it's nice to see underused characters get their day in the sun; I really enjoy how Mr. Terrific is an actual person in Checkmate, as opposed to just a face in the crowd of, say, the overcrowded Justice Society of America. Of course, the danger is that you'll get inconsistencies or outright contradictions in concurrent titles, but having the same person on the same book for a long time helps minimize that. There's also no substitute for planning, and I get the sense that Ruck and Winick did a fair amount of work breaking this story. All the pieces come together in a sensical and satisfying fashion.

This is one case where I was attracted to a title because of its creators--primarily the writer, Brian Michael Bendis--but became less enthused after experiencing the actual work. Alias is decent, but this volume in particular seemed rather self-indulgent and more about Big Important Issues than actual story. I don't deny that the Issues addressed are Big and Important, but the presentation here just didn't work for me. YMMV.

This was an "impulse buy" at the library, found while browsing the comic books (which always appear to be shelved in the "teen" section, unless they're black-and-white indie titles--but that's another topic). I think I actually own most of the original issues collected here, but this was much more convenient than digging through my parents' garage. The first story is the best; it's commonly known within Trek fandom as "Scotty's Story," and it is an unabashed tearjerker. Some say that Trek is best when it's not being Trek--i.e., when it's not telling a straight science fiction story, but simply using the setting as a backdrop and mining the well-established characters and relationships for drama--and this is a perfect example. The other two stories in this collection are okay, but not great. The "Worthy" three-parter, co-written by Bill Mumy, strains credibility and falls pretty flat if you don't pick up on all the Lost in Space references. "Once a Hero" does a decent job of dramatizing the plight of the redshirt, but the TNG episode "Lower Decks" did it much better.

Interesting, but ultimately unsatisfying. Minor spoilers ahead... The premise of this graphic novel is instantly engaging: some time ago, a significant portion of Earth's human population ascended skyward, apparently fulfilling the Biblical prophecy of Rapture. Some of the Christians left behind believe they're being tested, and are waiting for a second rapture event to join their fellow faithful. For most people, not much has changed, except that there appear to be armed angels roaming around, and magic is now real. The story revolves around the relationship between Raven and Mummy, a couple who wear masks to make open commentary about the state of the world. They arrive in Chicago, take up residence in an apartment whose former occupants disappeared in the Rapture, and do their best to fit in. Then their dog starts talking, and things just get weirder from there. But in a good way. The trouble with this book is the ending. The whole story is divided into six chapters, and the first five are pretty much contiguous, time-wise. But then an entire month passes between the end of chapter five and the beginning of chapter six, and some non-trivial plot developments occur during that time. I might have been okay with that if the resolution had been entirely character-focused, but the big finale is a single expository chunk that explains everything about the world. Really. It's a huge letdown after such a great start. On the bright side, the nuanced black-and-white art is great to look at, and it's definitely worth a read, if only to reinforce the lesson that even the best story idea can be diminished by poor execution. The entire book was released under Creative Commons, and you can read it online at archive.org. There's also a sequel, SWORD OF MY MOUTH, set in the same world but with different characters.

I'll be honest: if I hadn't been listening to this as an audio book, and if it hadn't been a day when I was working as an extra, I wouldn't have finished this book. Not even close. There is some good, solid advice on craft and discipline in the first few chapters, but then Pressfield starts talking about golf and angels and God and other things which, belief aside, I'm not really interested in. I don't want to hear your kooky opinions or half-baked theories about the nature of the universe. And his implication that cancer is merely a symptom of people's unfulfilled dreams is offensive to anyone who's ever lost a family member to the disease. It's not nearly as bad as Dilbert creator Scott Adams going off the rails, but like I said, if I hadn't been stuck on set with few other entertainment options, I would have dropped it long before the end.

I got this book from the library because I'd liked writer Matthew Sturges' work on Jack of Fables and Final Crisis Aftermath: Run!. I'd seen a few issues of the new Blue Beetle reboot (now cancelled) and hadn't been terribly impressed, but figured I'd give it another try. Yeah. Still not impressed. There's nothing actually wrong with this book, and it's got some interesting elements built into the teenaged-superhero premise, but the pieces just didn't jell for me. Too much Spider-Man, not enough Buffy the Vampire Slayer. But props for name-checking some real science, even if there's a lot of hand-waving in the implementation.

This is one hell of a good book. Now, I'm not actually a big Iron Man fan, so perhaps I was more predisposed than some "true believers" to enjoy this story arc, which focuses on some strong female supporting characters and a very atypical portrayal of Tony Stark. It also ends on a big cliffhanger, and while there's no real question as to what will eventually happen, I'm almost curious enough to start subscribing to the monthly title. Almost. Side note: I was fortunate enough to see Matt Fraction at w00tstock 2.1, where he gave a great presentation about creating comics and his personal history with the medium.

I have issues with Robert J. Sawyer. He's a good writer, and he tells a good story, but sometimes his prose becomes a patchwork of pop-culture references bordering on fanfic-wink-wink: if you don't get what he's talking about from the quotation or oblique description, you're not in the club. And all too often, said references seem to be piled on gratuitously, simply to remind the reader that she should feel good about being in the club. There's nothing wrong with that, but it's not my favorite style. Also, some of the expository chunks are blatantly look-at-my-research didactic; to Sawyer's credit, though, he always manages to stay below my OMG-teh-LameZors threshold, and I did learn quite a few things from this book. A few final nitpicks: I'm pretty sure there's no way to actually visualize the whole Internet all at once, even theoretically; his Chinese dialogue is a heartbreakingly loose translation written by someone who clearly doesn't speak the language; and geez, could you make the last line any more of a cliffhanger? All that said, it's a good read, and I'm curious how he's going to tie his disparate story threads together in the remainder of the trilogy.

This made for an interesting companion book to Free, which I also read recently. Where Free looks at how businesses can make money off zero- or low-cost offerings, Drive investigates the other side of the coin: asking what motivates people to do things--often for free--which can be good for life as well as business. The oft-repeated theme of Drive is the gap between "what science knows and what business does." And Pink puts his money where his mouth is--there are plenty of studies and research to back up his conclusions about "Motivation 3.0" and the things which can help any organization get the most out of its members; to wit, recognizing that people will work harder when they have autonomy and purpose, and in pursuit of mastery of a skill, than when they're just in it for the money. At its core, Drive advocates dismantling traditional management structures in favor of more "bottom-up" team building. Open source software projects and Wikipedia are cited, as they were in Free, and Pink also discusses several of my former employer's initiatives, like 20% time, peer rewards, and 360-degree performance reviews. (Not all of those were as successful as they could have been, but that's another story.) Read this book. If you're lacking in time or money, you can get many of the salient points from this excellent 11-minute video: http://is.gd/cKqQc

Anyone who spends any amount of time on the Internet already knows about many of the topics Wired editor Chris Anderson discusses in this book, and probably knows more about some of them. At less than 300 pages (including a sizable index and the business-book-obligatory "executive summary"), there's not much space to get very deep into any specific business model or case study. One odd thing: the "free books" section mentions Neil Gaiman's American Gods giveaway experiment, but says nothing about Cory Doctorow's career-long habit of giving away all his books under Creative Commons, even though Anderson quotes directly from Doctorow later on and talks about the fictitious Whuffie economy depicted in Down and Out in the Magic Kingdom. Maybe Cory's too much of an edge case? Anyway, the publisher also offers a free, abridged audio book version--in exchange for your e-mail address. Which is ironic, since Anderson spends much of the book talking about removing roadblocks to the Internet's highly efficient, "near-zero marginal cost" of distribution. Maybe they've abridged that part out of the audio version.

It's very instructive to see how differently every writer approaches his or her script; as Nat Gertler says in his introduction, comic book scripts are direct lines between writers and artists, and each particular relationship influences the way that communication works. Sometimes it reads like a story pitch, and sometimes it's all visual descriptions. There's not a single "correct" or standard way to write these things. I was highly amused by the fact that Greg Rucka felt the need to include actual endnotes in his script for Whiteout: Melt. Neil Gaiman and Kurt Busiek are brilliant, even in this stripped-down presentation. And Kevin Smith's script is about what you'd expect.

I'm reserving final judgment until I see the next volume, which I believe concludes this particular story arc, but so far, it's not bad. SPOILER: Turning Pepper Potts into a superhero? Genius. More like this, please. The one annoyance is that this collection starts with a huge "previously..." summary covering a world-changing multi-title crossover event which apparently took place between issues 7 and 8 of this book. You couldn't have at least included a pointer to that TPB somewhere in here? Lame.

One of my few complaints about the Checkmate TPBs is that they're not clearly labeled with volume numbers (this is #2). Yes, I'm a completist, and somewhat OCD about it; I like to read serialized stories in order, and I like them to have proper endings. Granted, the arcs in Checkmate generally stand alone pretty well--this book collects five issues and two self-contained storylines--but it bugs me if I don't at least understand the chronology of the world. What else? Oh, yeah, still loving it. Rucka does a nice job of sprinkling just enough superheroic and magical elements on top of a solid spy-fi foundation to put a fresh spin on the genre without making it too ridiculous. And that's quite a feat in a book which features a talking chimp.

For something that's supposed to be a cornerstone of contemporary comics, I wasn't hugely impressed by this graphic novel. For one thing, despite a large cast of characters, they're all surprisingly arc-free, and navigating their relationships depends on the reader knowing a fair bit about the Marvel universe going in. Some of the writing--for example, describing a bodega as "a Spanish delicatessen"--is laughably quaint. Not to mention talky, and preachy, and melodramatic. But I suppose that was all par for the course in 1982, when this was first published. And it is an interesting historical document, if not the holy text that its authors make it out to be in the endless interviews packed into this hardcover edition. This is not actually a negative review. God Loves, Man Kills still has some relevance, and it's interesting to see in it where many of the ideas for the first two X-Men movies came from.

Literally a book I could not put down--I stayed up all night reading it even though I had to work the next day, and did not regret it.