The Book of Names 2: A Genuine Fake Review, continued

Someone should feel honored: it's day two of the CSFF blog tour of D. Barkley Briggs’s The Book of Names, and I'm doing a two-part Genuine Fake Review.

When we left our heroes, they had just ventured through the runed arch into the lost world of Karac Tor, also known as The Hidden Lands, where they encounter a monk-filled abbey and some further plot points. Specifically, we finally find out what the whole "Book of Names" business is about. Baby names? No. Epithets for enemies? Negative. This is a list of all the people who have been or will be born in Karac Tor. The problem is that the mother-in-law of all identity theft is occurring, and names are vanishing left and right. No, this isn't a Bizarro World version of ACORN; it's the work of Nemesia, so named because not everyone knows that "Nemesis" is already feminine. She's a witch who can turn teens into zombies even without modern electronics.

Now, there is actually a basis for all this. In many cultures (including the Biblical ones), a name is thought to sum up a person's identity. There are various places in the Bible where "the Name [of the Lord]" is another term for God. In modern Judaism, "HaShem" ("The Name") is another name for God. And a lot of teens feel lost and without an identity of their own, which is why they tend to flock together like so many sheep. Good luck with that. Back to High Fantasy...

Anyway, the solution to all this is for Hadyn and Ewan to become Champions of Karac Tor and give Nemesia a noogie. But first, they're going to go talk to the local government. Kids these days! An adult would know that you should never say, "You're from the government, and we want you to help us." But then, an adult would also realize that you can't get out of a magical land without completing your quest. As Professor Kirk would say, "What are they teaching in schools these days?"

But soon the boys discover that they can't flout genre conventions. Thus, in accordance with Union Rules, they pick up a collection of odd companions and random encounters, such as Flogg the gnome. As a slogan it's not nice, perhaps, but it's still a quick source of cruel laughs: Flog that gnome! Flogg is bitter because he didn't get the job as travel site mascot, and he refuses to return to the lawn in disgrace. Then there's Sorge the warrior monk. "Sorge" is German for "care, concern," so we can see why he's a gray monk. He dispenses wisdom in the form of riddles and aphorisms, rather like Obi Wan channeling a fortune cookie or Yoda with normal syntax. He never quite masters the true lethal power of boredom, though.

Will the brothers save The Hidden Lands? Will they hide them better so the bad guys can't find them so easily the next time? Oh, probably--just not in a single book; this is a series, you know. But you'll have to read the book to know for sure.

For Genuine Genuine Reviews, check the links below:
Sally Apokedak
Brandon Barr
Keanan Brand
Rachel Briard
Valerie Comer
Frank Creed
Amy Cruson
CSFF Blog Tour
Stacey Dale
D. G. D. Davidson
Shane Deal
Jeff Draper
April Erwin
Karina Fabian
Andrea Graham
Todd Michael Greene
Timothy Hicks
Joleen Howell
Jason Isbell
Cris Jesse
Jason Joyner
Carol Keen
Magma
Rebecca LuElla Miller
Mirtika
Eve Nielsen
Nissa
Steve Rice
Crista Richey
Alice M. Roelke
Chawna Schroeder
James Somers
Rachel Starr Thomson
Steve Trower
Speculative Faith
Jason Waguespac
Phyllis Wheeler
Timothy Wise

The Book of Names: A Genuine Fake Review

Well, here I am at the start of the CSFF blog tour of D. Barkley Briggs’s The Book of Names, and the publisher hasn't sent me a book yet. That can only mean another Genuine Fake Review!

(For what it's worth, should I ever get a copy of the book, I'll backdate a review, along with the tour links. But unfortunately Blogger's publish control only simulates time travel, so we're both stuck with a GFR.)

Just to be different, I thought I'd step you through the process of creating a Genuine Fake Review. You don't actually need a post-graduate degree in English to fake a review; it's just one of the many skills you pick up in self-defense along the way.

To begin with, you need to wade through some reviews. Not only will this give you the basic plot and characters, it will generally provide some cheap laughs you can work into the GFR. So let's have a look at the Amazon reviews page.

Right off we have our characters and even our initial gag:

"Hadyn, Ewan, Gabe, and Garrett Barlow are brothers, ages fifteen, thirteen, nine, and nine, respectively. Their lives were just turned upside-down, twice."

Normally that would be fatal to a book, because if their lives have been turned upside-down twice, they're rightside-up again. But we shall posit that they encountered a plot twist along the way, so their lives are indeed rightside-up again, but also inside out. ("Lives," not "bodies," please note: let's not get gross.) In other words, they suddenly are wearing their undies on the outside. While this spoils a certain amount of tension concerning the burning question of boxers vs. briefs, it produces a lot of tension in other ways.

Cutting to the chase: the four brothers are stuck on a farm with a briar patch. Dear old Dad takes a break from his ground-breaking work in Crazy History to tell them to clear out the briar patch. This will help them process their grief over their mother's recent demise. Of course, they can't deal with it directly, so in true Freudian fashion they have to hack a maze into the briars.

How symbolic.

Anyway, "the older Barlow brothers discover a relic inside the t[h]icket." Just what they needed: some geezer was holed up on their property. Probably Br'er Rabbit: "I was born in dis briar patch!"

But no such luck: it is in fact a runed arch. It would've been a "ruined" arch, but the "i" wore away over the years.

Worse yet, "four large, crow-like birds fly overhead, dropping a cryptic message, copied fourfold." As a rule, when birds flying overhead drop a message, there's nothing cryptic about it. "Messy," yes; "disgusting," certainly. But "cryptic"?

But there are runes everywhere, and even the birds' calling cards have them. (What have they been eating?) Loosely translated, the runes say, "Use the arch, dummies; otherwise the story will just kind of hang there."

So Ewan and Hadyn venture through the arch and find themselves in the strange world of Karac Tor. Most reviewers agree that there's some serious worldbuilding going on here, which is known in writers' jargon as "Karac Tor Development." Yes, it's a blend of Celtic and Scandinavian material, updated for alternative history buffs. Where's Crazy Dad when you need him?

Tune in tomorrow for more genuine fakery! Meanwhile,

check out the blogs of these snobs who probably got actual books:
Sally Apokedak
Brandon Barr
Keanan Brand
Rachel Briard
Valerie Comer
Frank Creed
Amy Cruson
CSFF Blog Tour
Stacey Dale
D. G. D. Davidson
Shane Deal
Jeff Draper
April Erwin
Karina Fabian
Andrea Graham
Todd Michael Greene
Timothy Hicks
Joleen Howell
Jason Isbell
Cris Jesse
Jason Joyner
Carol Keen
Magma
Rebecca LuElla Miller
Mirtika
Eve Nielsen
Nissa
Steve Rice
Crista Richey
Alice M. Roelke
Chawna Schroeder
James Somers
Rachel Starr Thomson
Steve Trower
Speculative Faith
Jason Waguespac
Phyllis Wheeler
Timothy Wise

Shade--a Genuine Fake Review

Due to circumstances I'll call beyond my control, I didn't get a copy of John Olson's Shade, which looks like my loss. However, instead of rolling over and playing dead, I decided to call upon my inner lunatic—basically a smaller edition of my outer lunatic—and write a Genuine Fake Review. To help me in this scheme, I have procured Shade proper: after all, every writer's work is his baby, and even a new release can scream and puke on you a lot, so I got a job as Olson's babysitter.

What a sucker!

Bye, Mr. Olson! Don't forget to write!

(That's an old author's joke. Fortunately, most old authors are deaf and can't hear it.)

Anyway, on with the farce:

Hailey Maniates is a grad student in biochemistry. She's a no-nonsense sort, which I take as a personal affront. Worse yet, she's working in her lab late one night, trying to find the cause of and cure for sequels.

She must be stopped.

Suddenly a monster pops out of my bag of tricks, uttering a phrase that will horrify any decent human being: "Hope and Change!" Yes, it's not just a monster, it's a monster with a bad diaper! Reeling under the olfactory onslaught, Hailey bolts from the lab and into a chase sequence.

Just when things look hopeless, she is saved by a tall, dark, mumbling hero—it seems Tarzan is moonlighting. Hoping to save Hubba-Hubba, the Grad Student, the Jungle Lord prepares to beat the Kreegah Bundolo out of Mulo, the Monster, but he is thwarted by Icki-Yucki, the Used Diaper.

But before we can announce a casting call for a new hero, a dumpster pops open, revealing—well, someone who can do in a pinch. It's another shambling giant, this time named Melchi. That's short for Melchizedek, but it's also a very descriptive adjective that just happens to have avoided capture in a dictionary. Like the biblical Melchizedek, our new hero is without father or mother, etc., which means he's used to unchanged diapers. Calling upon his higher faculty of low cunning, he tells Mulo his shoelace is untied, then punts him into the dumpster.

Then things take a seriously horrifying turn: yes, it's an Exposition Break.

Hailey: Who are you?
Melchi: I'm Melchi.
Hailey: I said "who," not "what." And what was that thing that was chasing me?
Melchi: That's hard to explain, especially because this whole thing is supposed to keep readers guessing. So I'll only give vague hints and an occasional bit of coherent, useful information. For example, the monster's called Mulo. It's... Well, have you seen Mulan?
Hailey: Yes.
Melchi: Totally different. No comparison, really.
Hailey: Is that all you do? Maybe I should check back with Tarzan.
Melchi: Wait! Haven't you sensed the strange synergy between us? It's like you can read my mind, right?
Hailey: Yes, and in case you can't read mine, I carry pepper spray. It's not as effective as a loaded diaper, but—
Melchi: Just being with me gives you strange new powers!
Hailey: Like what?
Melchi: Could you belch "Louie, Louie" before?
Hailey: Ooh, my head! Is it the fumes or the hallucinogenic writing?
Melchi: She's fainted! Great—I can take her to a hospital and vanish mysteriously so she'll be even more confused. That should help the reader identify with her.

Hailey: What happened? Where am I?
Doctor: Easy, ma'am. You're at the hospital. I'm Dr. Howard; doctors Howard and Fine will be along in a moment.
Hailey: How'd I get here?
Doctor: I could say a mysterious giant left you here and vanished at the stroke of midnight, but I'm not going to commit myself. Others are doing that. But this was left behind as well.
Hailey: Is it...?
Doctor: I'm afraid so: a glass diaper. Completely impractical, but as smelly as the real thing.

John Olson: Hey, Bunky! How's it going? I got halfway there before I realized I'd forgotten my keys. It's amazing how fast you can run when you think you're in a car. Hey, what're you doing with Shade? You're changing it!
Steve, aka Bunky: That's my hope...
Olson: Well, that's my baby, and I'm taking it with me, Bunky—if that is your name.
Steve: But the blog's not over yet! Shade can't go! I mean, you, fine, but... No! Wait! Shade! Shade! Come back!

Spoilsport. Oh, well, for the biased views of people who've actually read the book, you can check out the other posts on the CSFF blog tour:

Brandon Barr
Jennifer Bogart
Justin Boyer
Keanan Brand
Kathy Brasby
Valerie Comer
CSFF Blog Tour
Stacey Dale
Janey DeMeo
Jeff Draper
April Erwin
Karina Fabian
Todd Michael Greene
Katie Hart
Joleen Howell
Jason Isbell
Jason Joyner
Kait
Magma
Margaret
Rachel Marks
Melissa Meeks
Rebecca LuElla Miller
Eve Nielsen
Nissa
John W. Otte
Mirtika or Mir's Here
Chawna Schroeder
James Somers
Robert Treskillard
Steve Trower
Speculative Faith
Jason Waguespac
Laura Williams
Timothy Wise

Chion: A Genuine Fake Review

This month CFRB is doing Darryl Sloan's Chion (also available as a free download here). Even though I did read the book, I still decided to do a quasi-fake review for reasons I'll explain later.

The genuine plot (no fakery here) involves the idea that snow has been somehow altered into superglue. I grew up in Alaska, so I'm not too impressed: we generally talked about getting "snow that sticks" in October, and it would be there until at least late April. In Chion, the snow sticks to more than wickets and is impervious to heat. No one seems to think of throwing salt on it for some reason.

Anyway, I'm writing a Genuine Fake Review for two reasons: first, I didn't think I'd have time to read the book, so I promised the others that I'd settle for a GFR, despite all their threats and pleading to the contrary. I'm pleased to say, however, that the book is not the usual several hundred pages of bloat some writers like to turn out. Second, even after reading the book, I thought there was something missing. You see, we never get an outright explanation of how the snow went bad.

(MINOR SPOILER!) Though terrorists are strongly suggested for the role, none shows up. I mean, sure the story's set in a small Irish town (specifically Portadown, Irish for "portajohn"), and all the important terrorists are off schmoozing in London and Dublin and chatting with Obama on the phone. (He immediately chides them for their "over the top" practical joke.) But they could still drop a sock puppet with a sign that says, "Greetings, Infidels! My name is Achmed, and I'll be your terrorist today!" After all, the main reason jihadists would have for sabotaging snow would be to disarm all the kids who would pelt them with snowballs, for which the jihadists have little or no natural defense. But if no terrorists show up, we might as well blame it on pixies or something. So...

Jamie stiffened. "Do you hear that? It must be another helicopter!"
Tara looked out the window. "No, it's... By Jove!"
"Buy gum!"
"What?"
"It's cheaper. Seriously, have you priced Jove lately?"
"Look! It's a flying oil well! And it's dropping a guy on a camel!"
As the two watched, the camel's hump popped open, deploying a chute. Moments later camel and rider landed in an oily heap just outside the window. How convenient.
"Allahu Akhbar?" the rider asked.
"Isn't that an exclamation?" Jamie retorted.
"No, I'm offering you one of our new Allahu Akhbars. It's like a nutroll, but with more oil and nuts. We're diversifying."
"But why are you even here? Why aren't you in a larger town?"
"Two reasons: first, when this is written up as a book, I believe the author will set the story here in Portadown."
"Ridiculous."
"Second, we forgot to build a portajohn on that fershlugginer flying oil well, so I was kinda stuck."
"You're also stuck here: you landed right in the snow."
"Not so: if you listened to your boffin explaining how this works, you would have noticed that he said a solid is required for the snow to stick. The camel's feet and undercarriage are covered with oil, which isn't a solid. So there." The camel promptly lost its footing again.
"Are you sure that's practical?"
"I have a better idea: I'll call in the guy who fixed the snow for us. He can unfix it for me."
A small man pinged into view, covered in icicles. "Don't tell me: you forgot to cover yourself with oil as well as the camel."
"It makes me slide all over."
"I know. It's great fun to watch."
Jamie decided the dialog had been hijacked long enough. "Wait! You're Jack Frost, aren't you? Why'd you help the terrorists?"
"I got bored nipping at people's noses and decided to glue them down instead. Just a change."
But then Tara, forgotten by pretty much everybody, ran to the window and tossed some salt at the sprite. "Season's greetings, Jack!" she called.
Faster than you can say, "I'm melting! Melting!" Jack and the snow disappeared.
The rider glared at the ground. Then he shrugged. "Anticlimactic, but as long as we're here, anyone want some cheap oil?"


Instead of the usual string of related blogs, we're using buttons now. I apologize: I originally liked the idea, but now I find they aren't shiny. Try them anyway.

Gentle Journey: A Genuine Fake Review

Well, once again CFRB is touring a book I haven't read. It's not that I don't read a lot of books; they just like to tour things I haven't looked at. However, as I've mentioned before, ignorance doesn't stop me from rabbiting on about a book. In fact, I like to think it makes my reviews less biased than those of people who have read the book.

Anyway, today's contestant is Gentle Journey by Elaine Lyons Bach. It's a Regency romance about Eden Barret, an artist who winds up being a governess--an old-fashioned word for a female governor. (No, wait: she's more of a nanny, which according to my Picture Book of Barnyard Animals and Other Relatives is a female goat.) She wants to help the downtrodden by means of Art, which presumably means giving them uplifting objects to look at while they're trudging off to the mines or other hellhole. She probably would've been more effective as a female governor.

Instead, she finds herself helping the uptrodden, in the form of Lady Diana (no, not that one), the sister and pain in the escutcheon of Colin Ashton, Seventh Earl of Edmund. He is a confused young man; should he go by "Colin," "Earl," or "Edmund"? His current light of love, the Honorable Cassandra Bradley, compassionately just says "Good Lord!" and gives him treats. (The author graciously forbears to mention whether he wags his tail.) Unfortunately the Honorable Cassandra's dishonorable brother has designs on Eden (remember her?), and they aren't altogether artistic. Meanwhile, Lady Diana is trying to sabotage any romance between Eden and Colin/Earl/Edmund. Aren't siblings keen? Maybe Di and Cassandra's brother should get married.

On the other hand, Lady Di does keep her brother from firing Eden. He'd like to fire her because she is too much like him, and he has enough trouble without picking up even more potential names. Thwarted in his attempt to remove her person, he begins to contemplate removing her last name, or anyway changing it to match his own, whichever that may be.

Will the course of true love run smooth? Will it be, in fact, a "gentle journey"? Not likely. But if you want to know, you should probably read the book already.

Attack of the Clones!

The Void is book three of Mark Mynheir's Truth Chasers series.

Have I read the book? No. However, I have an M.A. in English, which means I can bluff having read any book ever written, at least in English. Besides, I've read reviews of the book. Have you done that or maybe even read the book? If not, read on. If so, go somewhere else, already! Nobody likes a smart guy!

Robbie Sanchez is a Florida policewoman. Fortunately, Robbie is female, which keeps things from getting too kinky too early. Unfortunately, she has no social life, in part because some of the guys she knows keel over and die. Three words, Robbie: Too much perfume! But one such victim, Brad Worthington, bequeathed her a best friend with an equally macho name: Detective Eric Casey. How many parents name their kid "Detective"? Anyway, Robbie decides to convert him to a love interest and maybe flip him if he doesn't work out.

There are two clues at the scene of the crime:

1. Footprints made by large, identical shoes
2. A nearby building with a sign reading "Friendly neighborhood evil menacing corporation."

Considering that all odd businesses are evil, Robbie and her friend Detective pay a call on the establishment, after noting a smaller sign. By screwing up their eyes, they can make out the cheery message, "P.S. Open All Hours."

Unfortunately this refers to the guard dogs' mouths. There are several curiously identical dogs, but but R and D dismiss this as an illusion: they have, after all, screwed up their eyes already. In fact, the pair are so far gone that they get into an argument about how many dogs there are. The dogs get involved, confused, and bored senseless in short order and drop off like a synchronized diving team.

The investigators then discover that the business is called Lifetex: obviously it's involved in creating Texan life! (Hillary could use some of that.) Robbie immediately senses a connection with the big shoeprints she saw earlier.

But it's worse even than that! Lifetex is in fact involved with engineering jeans for Texans, which entails dabbling in secrets Man Was Not Meant to Know. As a woman, Robbie's okay, but she has Detective put his hands over his ears and his fingers in his eyes. (They get it right on the second take, but it's still real hard to do.)

Then Robbie hears an ominous honking noise drawing nearer and nearer. Suddenly the meaning of the prints comes to her: big shoes that are identical! It must be a clown clone (or vice versa)! And since he's confused "clown" and "clone," a functionally illiterate one as well, without proper editing (see tomorrow's post)!

What happens next? I don't know. I finally realized that as a man, this was something I wasn't supposed to know either. Pardon me while I get my fingers out of my eyes.

Participating Blog links:
The Christian Fiction Review Blog
Queen of Convolution
A Frank Review
Between Sundays
Bibliophile' s Retreat
Cathi's Chatter