Techie, software developer, hobbyist photographer, sci-fi/fantasy and comics fan in the Los Angeles area. He/him.
Mostly reading science fiction these days, mixing in some fantasy and some non-fiction (mostly tech and science), occasionally other stuff. As far as books go, anyway. (I read more random articles than I probably should.)
Madcap magical damage control in a family of eccentric artist-magicians.
5 stars
Similar to A Wizard's Guide to Defensive Baking, but a tighter story, with better-defined secondary characters and internal story logic.
Again there's a young apprentice with small, oddly specific magical abilities, who gets drawn into a caper, blamed for it, and finds herself as the only person who can resolve it, and has to both stretch her magic and convince the adults around to help her (and let her help them).
This time the magic is art. Paintings and drawings, if done the right way with the right details by by someone with the right ability, can become magical objects. Rosa was born into a family of Illuminators. A very eccentric family. Each with their own eccentricity. And that's before she encounters the magical talking crow (who is very taken with shiny objects) and the malicious creature he was guarding.
The stakes are more personal: the Scarling has it …
Similar to A Wizard's Guide to Defensive Baking, but a tighter story, with better-defined secondary characters and internal story logic.
Again there's a young apprentice with small, oddly specific magical abilities, who gets drawn into a caper, blamed for it, and finds herself as the only person who can resolve it, and has to both stretch her magic and convince the adults around to help her (and let her help them).
This time the magic is art. Paintings and drawings, if done the right way with the right details by by someone with the right ability, can become magical objects. Rosa was born into a family of Illuminators. A very eccentric family. Each with their own eccentricity. And that's before she encounters the magical talking crow (who is very taken with shiny objects) and the malicious creature he was guarding.
The stakes are more personal: the Scarling has it specifically out for the Mandolini family. But there's a clear potential for it to spiral out of control. Like Mona, Rosa makes mistakes, but again they're believable mistakes. And in this book the adults have character reasons for finally believing her, not just plot reasons.
There's a lot of mischief and magic, though only one mandrake as I recall. And because Rosa doesn't need to leave home on her hero's journey like Oliver (Minor Mage) or Mona, everyone in her family takes part in the story instead of just being window dressing for the framing sequence.
It's aimed at kids, yes: kids who appreciate not being talked down to. And it's written so that adults will have fun with it too.
A new translation of Karel Čapek's play R.U.R.—which famously coined the term “robot”—and a collection …
This looks interesting! I read one of the older translations of the play a couple of years ago, and I'm curious how a modern translation would approach it.
Earth is not well. The promise of starting life anew somewhere far, far away—no climate …
If a nation wants to convey to the world that they are the strongest and best, they can, of course just announce it at the United Nations. But it won't be convincing. Talk is cheap. Space programs are not. Very few nations can successfully fire a guy around the world at 7.8 kilometers per second, then land him and send him on a goodwill tour. Human spacefaring has little utility for the price, especially compared to things like military or commercial satellites, but what it does do is dramatically demonstrate wealth, organization, and technical competence. Throw in the fact that early space rockets were often literally the same as military rockets, and you have an excellent show of raw power that demands to be taken seriously. You of course never hear a politician say, "we choose to go to the moon, not because it is easy, but because it'll provide short-term geopolitical advantage," but something like that is a pretty solid explanation.
Oliver was a very minor mage. His familiar reminded him of this several times a …
By turns melancholy and creepy, with a dash of sarcastic armadillo
No rating
Minor Mage is firmly in the "kid goes on scary quest and comes back stronger" genre. The 12-year-old protagonist is cast out to complete a nigh-impossible quest alone (aside from his armadillo familiar), facing ghouls and starvation and bandits and ghosts and murderers. He's a wizard, yes, but he's barely half-trained and only knows a handful of spells (though his herbal lore is pretty strong). Like the young heroes of A Wizard's Guide to Defensive Baking and Illuminations, he has to learn how to make the most of his limited abilities in order to survive -- only this story takes place not in a city but mostly in wilderness an abandoned farmlands.
From an adult perspective, Oliver's constant lamenting that he's "only a minor mage" starts to grate after a while. But that's not the perspective it's written for: it's a kids' book, and operates on kids' fantasy logic. …
Minor Mage is firmly in the "kid goes on scary quest and comes back stronger" genre. The 12-year-old protagonist is cast out to complete a nigh-impossible quest alone (aside from his armadillo familiar), facing ghouls and starvation and bandits and ghosts and murderers. He's a wizard, yes, but he's barely half-trained and only knows a handful of spells (though his herbal lore is pretty strong). Like the young heroes of A Wizard's Guide to Defensive Baking and Illuminations, he has to learn how to make the most of his limited abilities in order to survive -- only this story takes place not in a city but mostly in wilderness an abandoned farmlands.
From an adult perspective, Oliver's constant lamenting that he's "only a minor mage" starts to grate after a while. But that's not the perspective it's written for: it's a kids' book, and operates on kids' fantasy logic.
Speaking of the target audience: In the afterward, Kingfisher/Vernon talks about trying to convince editors that yes, this is a children's book, and getting constant pushback that it's "too scary." (This is how she ended up publishing it as Kingfisher rather than Vernon) It reminded me of similar comments Neil Gaiman wrote about Coraline, remarking that it was too scary for adults but not too scary for children.
Sometimes I wonder: Do these editors remember being 12?