stevenpiziks: (Default)
A resurrection man digs up corpses for a living. In the 1800s, it was illegal to do anything with a dead body but bury it. This meant that medical students couldn't dissect and examine the human body, and it deeply hurt our understanding of medicine. For a long time, there was a thriving underground (cough cough) market of corpses. Resurrection men haunted cemeteries to watch for funerals, and the night after a fresh interment, they'd sneak into the graveyard with their shovels (made of wood because metal shovels are louder) and get to work. They sold the bodies they took to medical schools. Lots of men made a living this way.

Once the students were finished with a given body, it fell to them to rebury the remains. They rarely took them back to the original grave--too much risk of getting caught. Instead, they buried them in any remote place. In Ann Arbor, a favorite place was a track of woodland just past the then-boundary of the university. People sometimes noticed lights out there, and declared the area was haunted. It became known locally as Sleepy Hollow.

A couple hundred years later, the university bought the tract of land but let it lay fallow. A few years ago, however, the university decided to develop the spot. The workers were startled to uncover hundreds of human bones. Thinking it was perhaps the dumping ground for a serial killer, they called the police, who determined that the bones were far too old. It was then everyone realized the bones were the result of decades of reburials by early medical students.

Benjamin Franklin's house in Philadelphia was also the subject of some bemusement. Recently, researchers discovered a cache of human bones buried under his cellar. The most likely explanation was that he let college students or other researchers rebury dissected corpses there so they wouldn't have to risk hauling them through town.

Eventually, the law was changed. Bodies of prisoners, or people who died in poorhouses, or who went unclaimed at the town morgue became legal for medical examination. Then people were allowed to donate themselves to scientific study. There's no more need for resurrection men.

But the idea intrigued me. What would it be like to live that way? Did the job bother these men? What kind of relationship did you have with the local gravedigger?

I decided to find out. The result was Resurrection Men. It goes on sale October 1, and is available for pre-order. Have a look!


stevenpiziks: (Default)
We have book specials from Book View Cafe, including my book DANNY. Want a book for a buck? Come see! (Link is fixed.)

https://bookviewcafe.com/bookstore/category/specials/

stevenpiziks: (Outdoors)
I'd been meaning to read THE GOLEM AND THE JINNI by Helene Wecker for quite some time and finally pulled it out off my TRB list.

The idea is intruiging.  A Jinni from Syria is released from his bottle in New York's Little Syria neighborhood in 1915, hundreds of years after he was imprisoned.  An iron band on his wrist keeps him from remembering how he was imprisoned in the first place and forces him to live among humans.  Meanwhile, a man in Eastern Europe pays a powerful rabbi to fashion a realistic Golem woman for him so he can have the perfect wife, but the man dies while emigrating to New York, leaving the Golem without a master and struggling with newly granted free will.  Circumstances and other people bring the Golem and the Jinni together.

The book suffers quite a lot in its execution.  Wecker spends far too much time wandering through her character's thought processes. In more skilled hands, this could have been fun or even riveting. Unfortunately, Wecker pauses her narrative to create several paragaphs of dull, leaden prose that could--and should--have been trimmed and tightened.  (Where was her editor?)  Her Golem does a great deal of internal whining about how constrained she is, despite her newfound choices, and she spends the vast majority of the book sitting in her room, ruminating about how dull her life is and how risky it is for her to go out and be a person.  (She fears making a mistake and being uncovered as a Golem.)  After the third page about her latest sewing project, we readers are bored as well.

The Jinni also has to hide his true nature for fear of discovery, and this becomes dull as well.  A budding forbidden romance between him and a human woman seems at first to be a central character plot, but it abruptly fizzles and goes nowhere, with no decent resolution.  Like the Golem, the Jinni is constantly portrayed as weak and helpless, and he gets into enormous trouble whenever he dares actually DO anything.  Boring.

It's actually possible to skip over entire sections and still follow the story.  The middle of the book sags badly, and nothing at all happens for entire chapters.

According to the author's note, Wecker did enormous amounts of research into the Little Syria of 1915, but you'd hardly know it by reading the book.  With the exception of a dance hall and a tin roof (which are described in great detail), the setting is given short shrift.  We have a generic coffeehouse, a generic smith's forge, a generic mansion, and a generic bakery.  (And, I might add, bakers work at night so the breads and rolls are ready to buy first thing in the morning. They don't work during the day, as the novel portrays.)

Wecker's prose =does= shine when it comes to portraying Jewish mysticism and just how the Golem of legend might work in "modern" New York, and her development of Jinni culture is great fun to read as well.  This doesn't overcome the books enormous flaws.

I wanted to like this book.  I worked hard to like this book.  But I just couldn't. Give it a miss, folks.
stevenpiziks: (Outdoors)
I bought the book MY NAME IS N (also titled THE SWEDE) for one reason: I heard the protagonist is gay, and this had pissed off a lot of people, who were now slamming it with one star reviews on Amazon.  "How dare you trick me!" "It was a good book until I realized the main character was gay!" "Ew! Gross!"

So I bought it.  Not only did I want to piss off the people who were pissed off, I wanted to read a book in which the main character was gay, but also in which this wasn't the main plot.  I don't enjoy gay romances, or any story in which the relationship is the main story.  I'd rather read about LGBT characters who are living their lives and having thrilling adventures, and who are also LGB or T.  A doctor saves lives in the ER, then comes home to her wife.  A spy escapes death, then meets his boyfriend in a cafe.  You get the idea.

So I settled in for a good read.

It was awful.

I wanted to like the book.  I really did.  But it was dreadful.

The book has three stories running.  A man with amnesia is caught in the tsunami that hit Sri Lanka.  He and a group of other survivors become incensed at an American church group that blames all the death and destruction on the sins of the local people (including gay people), so they decide to set up a bank heist and blame it on the (thinly-veiled Westboro) church.

Meanwhile, in the present day, a Swedish security agent named Grip travels to a US military base. He's been hired to question a prisoner known only as N to find out if N is Swedish.

A third plot involves Grip's backstory.

The book moves so slowly, and is exceedingly dull, I don't know how it gets marketed as a thriller.  It takes three chapters just for Grip to travel from Sweden to the military base.  This kind of thing CAN be interesting, but in this book, it's plodding and dull.  Huge chunks could have been cut out and we'd miss nothing.

The characters are flat and boring.  We have a stereotypical Russian madman, a stereotypical stoic Swede, a stereotypical bombshell woman, a stereotypical . . . oh, you get the picture.  Even Ben, the gay love interest character, runs a friggin' art gallery.  Because, you know, that's what gay men do.

When Grip questions N, there are no stakes.  Grip doesn't really care who N really is or if he's really Swedish, and nothing bad will happen to Grip if he can't figure out who N is or get him to talk, so the puzzle is merely intellectual.  Yawn.  We readers already know who N about ten seconds after we meet him (SPOILER: he's the bank robber guy from Sri Lanka--but it's so batantly obvious, I don't know why the author pretends the readers don't know), so there's no suspense there.  Since we know N will get caught during the robbery, that suspense is over.  The only question that's vaguely troubling is why N is being held on a military base.  But really, by now we don't care, because N doesn't seem to care.  In fact, no one in this entire novel really seems to care about anyone else.  Even Grip and his boyfriend Ben don't show any affection for each other--deliberately so, according to Grip's musings.  And so we readers don't care, either.

The gay relationship stuff revolves around (sigh) AIDS.  Really?  Must everything in the LGBT community involve AIDS?  There are eight bazillion books, movies, TV shows, and even commercials about the LGBT community and AIDS.  We're tired of it and we don't need more.  Yeah, Ben needs money for medical stuff, which propels part of the plot, but Ben could just have easily had any other expensive, life-threatening condition.  It didn't have to be AIDS.  Again.

Give this one a miss, folks.  It's bad writing, no matter what the main character's orientation might be.
stevenpiziks: (Default)
My friend Jessica Freely has a new book out: Dharma Cafe. I read chunks of this when it was "in production," and it's awesome! I was excited to see Loose Id is putting it out.  Go have a look. 

http://www.loose-id.com/Dharma-Cafe.aspx

Welcome to the Dharma Café, a restaurant like no other. There is no menu. The waiter, Samura, uses mystical powers to read what each customer needs, and the cook, Agatha, prepares the food with ingredients like love, hope, and courage.

The café is a refuge for the new busboy, Charlie, who was kicked out of home on his eighteenth birthday. Irresistibly drawn to Samura, Charlie soon discovers that the stern, formal waiter harbors a heartbreaking past and a dangerous secret.

Samura lives in fear that one day, the darkness inside him will burst forth to destroy all he loves. Now that includes brash, infuriating, delectable Charlie, who has broken through all Samura’s defenses and taught him to trust himself.

Just when Samura thinks it might be safe to reveal the truth, his worst nightmare walks back into his life: His father, Akio, the evil food sorcerer who runs the burger stand on the other side of town. Akio’s business is expanding and he wants his son to manage his new location, where the Dharma Café now stands.

It will take the combined resources of an ancient cook, a novice dishwasher, and a cursed waiter to fight Akio and protect the café. But when Samura succumbs to Akio’s magic, will it be enough?

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