Showing posts with label Diana Gabaldon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Diana Gabaldon. Show all posts
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Thursday, May 6, 2010
The New Vampire Diaries
I'm only at page 100 of the new book, whatever it's called and it has been extremely difficult to read.
Stefan sounds more like Edward Cullen and I'm trying not to throw up.
The story in the beginning is ridiculous and oozing with overdone sentimentality and feels more like Stephenie Meyer than LJ Smith, you have no idea how much it hurts me to say that.
None of the old pull to Damon exists, granted he's not quite himself, but he doesn't sound like good old Damon either.
And it's all gotten just a bit too...racey for me. That's why I like teen fiction. It's all the angst and suspense and drama without the sex. And no, there isn't sex, but it's symbolic and I don't appreciate it and if it was my twelve year-old wanting to read it, I would say no. Or I would at least rip out the page with the worst of it.
And yes, I do listen to the Outlander series, it's the one exception where I will tolerate such things, but that's dealing with adults and it isn't written for teens.
And it's really just ridiculous.
The entire opening of the story has been ridiculous and it's inconsistent with the voice of the other books. It seems dumbed down and overly explanatory and just plain silly.
And there are elements of it that are so like the Twilight saga that I checked the copyright date and then the copyright date of Breaking Dawn.
But there seems to be hope.
Maybe.
Now at page 100, it's starting to sound like the old LJ Smith, the one that deserves the title New York Times Bestselling Author. The one that deserves to have her story put onscreen (even if it should be the big screen and not the little one). I just hope it keeps getting better, because if LJ Smith continues to read like Stephenie Meyer, I'm not wasting my time reading the next one. It's one thing for Stephenie Meyer to sound like Stephenie Meyer but it's just wrong for LJ Smith to sound like her and to be so utterly silly.
If Stefan calls Elena, lovely love, one more time, I might wretch.
Romance is NOT sentimentality
Stefan sounds more like Edward Cullen and I'm trying not to throw up.
The story in the beginning is ridiculous and oozing with overdone sentimentality and feels more like Stephenie Meyer than LJ Smith, you have no idea how much it hurts me to say that.
None of the old pull to Damon exists, granted he's not quite himself, but he doesn't sound like good old Damon either.
And it's all gotten just a bit too...racey for me. That's why I like teen fiction. It's all the angst and suspense and drama without the sex. And no, there isn't sex, but it's symbolic and I don't appreciate it and if it was my twelve year-old wanting to read it, I would say no. Or I would at least rip out the page with the worst of it.
And yes, I do listen to the Outlander series, it's the one exception where I will tolerate such things, but that's dealing with adults and it isn't written for teens.
And it's really just ridiculous.
The entire opening of the story has been ridiculous and it's inconsistent with the voice of the other books. It seems dumbed down and overly explanatory and just plain silly.
And there are elements of it that are so like the Twilight saga that I checked the copyright date and then the copyright date of Breaking Dawn.
But there seems to be hope.
Maybe.
Now at page 100, it's starting to sound like the old LJ Smith, the one that deserves the title New York Times Bestselling Author. The one that deserves to have her story put onscreen (even if it should be the big screen and not the little one). I just hope it keeps getting better, because if LJ Smith continues to read like Stephenie Meyer, I'm not wasting my time reading the next one. It's one thing for Stephenie Meyer to sound like Stephenie Meyer but it's just wrong for LJ Smith to sound like her and to be so utterly silly.
If Stefan calls Elena, lovely love, one more time, I might wretch.
Romance is NOT sentimentality
Monday, April 26, 2010
Alice I Have Been, the review
It was originally Diana Gabaldon's favorable review of Melanie Benjamin's Alice I Have Been that prompted me to buy the book.
The first twenty pages convinced me that I would not finish the story. It was not gripping me.
But, having already gushed over Gabaldon's review on this blog and going so far as to order it online (the book, not the review), I felt obligated and plodded on....
While Benjamin is not Gabaldon, she is enchanting. She does not write with the scientist's acute observation of the physical world, but she is wise of more internal matters. Just when I was certain I could read no more and longed to move on (to my new Vampire Diaries books) Benjamin swept me away, against my will, might I add because I wasn't certain I could tolerate where the subject matter seemed to be heading.
A lot of writers can't do extreme emotion, particularly anguish....Benjamin did it masterfully to the point that my critical eyes flooded with tears for poor Alice.
I was not left disappointed or empty in the end...and I may just go back to the beginning again one day.
The first twenty pages convinced me that I would not finish the story. It was not gripping me.
But, having already gushed over Gabaldon's review on this blog and going so far as to order it online (the book, not the review), I felt obligated and plodded on....
While Benjamin is not Gabaldon, she is enchanting. She does not write with the scientist's acute observation of the physical world, but she is wise of more internal matters. Just when I was certain I could read no more and longed to move on (to my new Vampire Diaries books) Benjamin swept me away, against my will, might I add because I wasn't certain I could tolerate where the subject matter seemed to be heading.
A lot of writers can't do extreme emotion, particularly anguish....Benjamin did it masterfully to the point that my critical eyes flooded with tears for poor Alice.
I was not left disappointed or empty in the end...and I may just go back to the beginning again one day.
Monday, March 29, 2010
Death of A Witch
The pages of Breaking Dawn barely had time to settle back into their spine before I picked up MC Beaton's Death of a Witch. While Beaton is also no Diana Gabaldon, she is MC Beaton which is far preferable to being Stephenie Meyer. Beaton creates vivid Scottish landscapes in the desperate places of my mind, places that long for travel and the harsh yet beautiful scenery of Scotland. Sometimes I wonder if I read her novels for the story or the scenery...it may be a toss up. Beyond that, I love her characters dearly as though I have known them all these years since I picked up my first Hamish MacBeth mystery.
They are simple reads, easily started and finished in a long, lazy day, but so entertaining. Beaton's work is the very definition of British cozy, making you want to curl up in a good, worn in chair with a blanket by a whispering fire with a cup of cocoa. I had put down her book at one point, when the sun finally shone through the dismal clouds of a windy Saturday morning and headed out to the garden. There wasn't much activity there but still the overwintered parsnips and onions and salsify give me a thrill of anticipatory excitement every time I spy their weed-like leaves hugging the cold, wet March soil. A few of the salsify had been sacrificed to discovery, I having not realized that some had made it through the winter and were beginning their growth anew.
As I sat on the chilled timbers of the bed, listening to the birds calling one another and claiming their territories the thoughts in my mind faded from the desire to go in and put on another layer, to the bonnie mountains and heathery moors of a Scotland I have never personally seen. My eyes scanned across our own land, with it's sharp hills and rocky creek beds, all crowded by tall skinny trees alive with chickadees and cardinals and a dozen other varieties of birds. In that moment I was overwhelmed with a love for our land. Our land. My family's land. And I began to wonder again about memories being passed down through genetics. Had my ancestors in Scotland had land of their own, land they loved? Had that love been passed down to me somehow, so that I crave going back? So that I would ignore my pride and my own selfish desires to preserve our family land here, the land where I had spent my years as a teenager and my children had spent most of their lives? During my time at Truman State I had been miserable, but when we came back to my parents', it was as though every atom in me settled back into the land and my soul whispered, "I have come home."
Perhaps that is why I love Beaton's Hamish MacBeth series so much, she takes me to Scotland with her. She brings to vivid color and even temperature, the nature of the Scottish landscape and it's people. I want to go back again and again. This is also what Gabaldon does, even more so, in her Outlander series and I never want to leave it.
Death of a Witch was good and engrossing and with some sadness I parted with dear old friends at the end, comforted in knowing that the shelf still holds another day of companionship not yet opened.
They are simple reads, easily started and finished in a long, lazy day, but so entertaining. Beaton's work is the very definition of British cozy, making you want to curl up in a good, worn in chair with a blanket by a whispering fire with a cup of cocoa. I had put down her book at one point, when the sun finally shone through the dismal clouds of a windy Saturday morning and headed out to the garden. There wasn't much activity there but still the overwintered parsnips and onions and salsify give me a thrill of anticipatory excitement every time I spy their weed-like leaves hugging the cold, wet March soil. A few of the salsify had been sacrificed to discovery, I having not realized that some had made it through the winter and were beginning their growth anew.
Perhaps that is why I love Beaton's Hamish MacBeth series so much, she takes me to Scotland with her. She brings to vivid color and even temperature, the nature of the Scottish landscape and it's people. I want to go back again and again. This is also what Gabaldon does, even more so, in her Outlander series and I never want to leave it.
Death of a Witch was good and engrossing and with some sadness I parted with dear old friends at the end, comforted in knowing that the shelf still holds another day of companionship not yet opened.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Praise and Hallelujah!
I have finished Breaking Dawn!
Someone give me a hanky! Tears of relief stream down my face.
The only thing that can nicely be said is that the end almost redeemed the entire book. There was restraint in the pacing, but I was neither surprised nor relieved by the ending. I just don't think Meyer has it in her. In her to what? I will not say, for those of you who have not wasted precious hours of your life such as I have. At least I can hold my head high and say I too know the fate of Edward and Bella Cullen. Whatever that's worth.
I couldn't handle anymore fairy tale cottages or lingering glances.....
Beyond Hallmark.
Stephenie Meyer is a writer of convenience. She continues to grow in skill, but as yet, she is no Diana Gabaldon. But who is? It's not really fair. I've been listening to Voyager by Gabaldon during my daily commute and everything else seems like bare bones writing compared to her.
More editing to do...and nothing new written.
Someone give me a hanky! Tears of relief stream down my face.
The only thing that can nicely be said is that the end almost redeemed the entire book. There was restraint in the pacing, but I was neither surprised nor relieved by the ending. I just don't think Meyer has it in her. In her to what? I will not say, for those of you who have not wasted precious hours of your life such as I have. At least I can hold my head high and say I too know the fate of Edward and Bella Cullen. Whatever that's worth.
I couldn't handle anymore fairy tale cottages or lingering glances.....
Beyond Hallmark.
Stephenie Meyer is a writer of convenience. She continues to grow in skill, but as yet, she is no Diana Gabaldon. But who is? It's not really fair. I've been listening to Voyager by Gabaldon during my daily commute and everything else seems like bare bones writing compared to her.
More editing to do...and nothing new written.
Saturday, March 6, 2010
There Goes the Bride
Perhaps I have become too accustomed to Diana Gabaldon.
Her writing is so richly detailed without being overwhelming, that reading the bare bones There Goes the Bride by MC Beaton was frustrating. Maybe I'm preoccupied. Maybe not. The Agatha Raisin series has never been my favorite as far as MC Beaton is concerned. This story though was like the movie Australia. The would go into a long fade-to-black and I would think, "O good, it's over," and then it would start up again and again and again. That movie should have ended so many times. It was like that with There Goes the Bride. Just stop writing when it's over, let it go. Crikey. It wasn't even a fun read, as her stories typically are. It was just, comfortable, cozy. It didn't require any intellectual stretching and nothing about it was controversial or otherwise offensive. It was, fittingly, a true cozy.
Her writing is so richly detailed without being overwhelming, that reading the bare bones There Goes the Bride by MC Beaton was frustrating. Maybe I'm preoccupied. Maybe not. The Agatha Raisin series has never been my favorite as far as MC Beaton is concerned. This story though was like the movie Australia. The would go into a long fade-to-black and I would think, "O good, it's over," and then it would start up again and again and again. That movie should have ended so many times. It was like that with There Goes the Bride. Just stop writing when it's over, let it go. Crikey. It wasn't even a fun read, as her stories typically are. It was just, comfortable, cozy. It didn't require any intellectual stretching and nothing about it was controversial or otherwise offensive. It was, fittingly, a true cozy.
Friday, March 5, 2010
Lord John Grey
Darn the luck.
I had been raptly listening to Dragonfly in Amber by Diana Gabaldon only to finish the first part and find the second (from the library) on reserve. No longer able to bear the hour long drive without an audiobook, I went in search of Outlander. Also gone. Not wanting to dive into the next stories (when it comes to Gabaldon's Outlander series, I prefer to read first and listen later, silly perhaps, but there it is), I picked up Lord John Grey.
To begin, it is brilliantly performed by Jeff Woodman.
At first I didn't remember the character clearly, years have passed since I first read Outlander. So it was a bit of a shock when I realized he was gay. In all honesty I have never read a book wherein the main character was a homosexual man. Or woman for that matter. I called my mother and asked her to remind me of who the character had been to Jamie Fraser.
Ah yes. Him.
Not too certain that I would be interested in the romantic aspect of these stories (sorry, but I do prefer man-woman romances, being a heterosexual myself) I was about to give up on listening to an audiobook that day, but decided to look at it more clinically.
The stories, in and of themselves, though filled seamlessly with the results of heavy historical research (Diana Gabaldon is a master at this), were nothing amazing. Several times I found my attention had drifted and had to back up and find where my mind had meandered. It felt, at times, as though I were just listening to a heavily involved character background (except it was written after the fact). It took until the middle of the third book for me to decide that, despite the sometimes sluggish story lines, I really like Lord John. Were we to meet, he would be a good friend of mine.
Has the Lord John series been worth my time? Yes. Even if I had read them I would say yes. A mediocre work of Diana Gabaldon would be a masterpiece for anyone else. If that makes sense to you. Diana Gabaldon has unparalleled talent, her so-so works are what others would consider to be their masterpieces. And though I long to be done with the last disc and move on to something more thrilling, I will miss Lord John and hope to hear from him again.
I had been raptly listening to Dragonfly in Amber by Diana Gabaldon only to finish the first part and find the second (from the library) on reserve. No longer able to bear the hour long drive without an audiobook, I went in search of Outlander. Also gone. Not wanting to dive into the next stories (when it comes to Gabaldon's Outlander series, I prefer to read first and listen later, silly perhaps, but there it is), I picked up Lord John Grey.
To begin, it is brilliantly performed by Jeff Woodman.
At first I didn't remember the character clearly, years have passed since I first read Outlander. So it was a bit of a shock when I realized he was gay. In all honesty I have never read a book wherein the main character was a homosexual man. Or woman for that matter. I called my mother and asked her to remind me of who the character had been to Jamie Fraser.
Ah yes. Him.
Not too certain that I would be interested in the romantic aspect of these stories (sorry, but I do prefer man-woman romances, being a heterosexual myself) I was about to give up on listening to an audiobook that day, but decided to look at it more clinically.
The stories, in and of themselves, though filled seamlessly with the results of heavy historical research (Diana Gabaldon is a master at this), were nothing amazing. Several times I found my attention had drifted and had to back up and find where my mind had meandered. It felt, at times, as though I were just listening to a heavily involved character background (except it was written after the fact). It took until the middle of the third book for me to decide that, despite the sometimes sluggish story lines, I really like Lord John. Were we to meet, he would be a good friend of mine.
Has the Lord John series been worth my time? Yes. Even if I had read them I would say yes. A mediocre work of Diana Gabaldon would be a masterpiece for anyone else. If that makes sense to you. Diana Gabaldon has unparalleled talent, her so-so works are what others would consider to be their masterpieces. And though I long to be done with the last disc and move on to something more thrilling, I will miss Lord John and hope to hear from him again.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Alice I Have Been
I was just checking over my new blog post when an Amazon ad for Alice Have I Been scrolled down. It is a beautiful ad, which is probably the only reason it caught my eye. While I found it intriguing, however, I was not convinced it was worth my time, until I saw the little review at the bottom. "Magic," author of the Outlander series, Diana Gabaldon, calls it.
If Diana Gabaldon, my absolute favorite author, calls a book magic, I'm buying it.
Ironically just this morning I had vowed not to buy anymore books until I have read all the books that are lying around my room waiting for me to read them.
Well, like my diet, that I'll start that tomorrow!
I already bought the book online and, since it was on sale, The Physick Book of Deliverance Dane, or something like that.
Can't wait!
If Diana Gabaldon, my absolute favorite author, calls a book magic, I'm buying it.
Ironically just this morning I had vowed not to buy anymore books until I have read all the books that are lying around my room waiting for me to read them.
Well, like my diet, that I'll start that tomorrow!
I already bought the book online and, since it was on sale, The Physick Book of Deliverance Dane, or something like that.
Can't wait!
Thursday, February 4, 2010
New Moon ~ Stephenie Meyer
Perhaps a better title for this entry would be "Foot-in-Mouth Disease," which I suffer from horribly.
I am trying to understand why people don't like New Moon.
Twilight was a struggle to read. I just didn't buy into it.
In the beginning, New Moon was worse. But then, something amazing happened. Stephenie Meyer hit her stride. She figured out to weave a story and pace it to tantalize the reader. Don't get me wrong, she's no Diana Gabaldon. She still has a long way to go, but she is going there. Maybe that was the most exciting thing about New Moon for me, seeing the growth of Meyer as an author. Some of the writing was still excruciating (like when Bella realizes she is the zombie) but some of it was so real (maybe because I have lived through similar romantic dramas?) that I was drawn in. She spent so much time developing the relationship between Bella and Jacob that I bought it and suddenly I was conflicted. I believed in their relationship more than I do Edward and Bella's.
Crap, I will have to finish this later. Class time.
Anyway, props to Stephenie Meyer for an amazing show of growth.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
New Moon Shocker
Last night was one of those nights.
My body wasn't tired but my brain was exhausted. As such, I couldna sleep. (Listening to Dragonfly in Amber by Diana Galbadon brings out the Scot in me....Glasgow, Illinois was actually started by my great, great, great, great something grandfather...Edward McGlasson? My mother's maiden name is McGlasson.) Anyway, this imbalance put me in a precarious spot. I was awake, but not really. It was one of those moments when all you really have the strength to do is sit there and stare blankly at the wall. Feeling that catatonic stares would be a great waste of time, I picked up New Moon by Stephenie Meyer. (Given to me by a wonderful Christian girl.) I am only halfway through now, but I believe my review will shock you. But, we will wait until the end to see.
I must go tend to my sick child now, but had to take a moment to share this startling tidbit with you.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Goodbye Lolita, hello Dragonfly
As it turns out, Reading Lolita in Tehran...not such a fun audiobook. I need pages for that one. Just couldn't get into it in the audio format. So this morning I stopped at the library and picked up one of my favorite novels, which ironically, has been narrated by Davina Porter. Happily, her performance is much better in this one, though I doubt even a shoddy narration could inflict harm on Diana Gabaldon's Dragonfly in Amber, or any of her novels for that matter. It had been five years since I last read Dragonfly yet it came rushing back over me like a sweet, forgotten dream. Gabaldon knows how to write, it's exquisite. It took five minutes and a chapter change before I could convince myself to get out of my parked car. I would sit there all day and listen. The only irritating part is that I know what happens and I want to get to that first thrilling part and it's killing me.
Perhaps, for the sake of my sanity it would be best if I gave up all fiction (both writing and reading) until the semester's end. The struggle between my love for reading and my need to pass statistics is colossal. It seems silly, true, but oh, Diana Gabaldon has mad skills.
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