Holiday Time Again

It's the holidays again, and for once there is no power outage and my husband isn't deployed. We've been in this house three years, and this is the first time we've put decorations out. So you can understand that we're quite excited.

Wow. It certainly has been a while since I wrote a blog post. A lot has happened recently, and I also haven't read a book that I cared to write a review about. I've decided to re-read the Harry Potter books. I love them and appreciate them more now than I did as a kid. There are a few things that Rowling does in her writing that I don't much like (for instance using capital letters, exclamation points, and dialogue tags like "roared" all in one go) but it doesn't really spoil my enjoyment that much. I should be starting the last book tomorrow. I've been flying through them at light speed and cannot wait to Book 7.

Then I will be starting Clockwork Princess to finish up the Infernal Devices by Cassandra Clare. (You can find the reviews to the previous two books here and here.) It will be an interesting endeavor since Princess managed to chase off some of her most loyal fans.

The writing is going... uh... we, it's going. I'm in the last seven chapters of my editing and I almost have the outline for the sequel done. I still have a lot of research I have to do for the next book, but nothing that will stop me from starting the novel right away.

And my blog has officially had over 10,000 views by perfect strangers who never leave any comments. That's awesome, but the lack of interaction kind of bums me out. If you are one of these wayward people, or someone who reads regularly, don't be afraid to say, "Hi," before running off. It's cool. I don't bite.

So there you have it. My really boring, entirely uneventful life update. I look forward to torturing you all to more book reviews soon.

Book Review: City of Ashes (Mortal Instruments #2)

I finally made it through the second Mortal Instruments book, City of Ashes. I must say, it was quite an adventure. I've got one more to do before I'm done with the original trilogy, but this might be it for a bit. I've got my own book to work on. I'll get to City of Glass soon enough though.


City of Ashes by Cassandra Clare
My rating: 1 of 5 stars

The following review is filled with spoilers, whining, complaining, ranting, and the destruction of everything people love about this series. Please read responsibly.

When last we left our intrepid heroes, Clary "Mary Sue" Frey discovered she was part of a super special group of people called Shadowhunters. (That should be two words, by the way.) She falls for shmexy jerk-face Jace, only to find out that he is her brother and that they are the long lost children of stock baddie, Valent... Oh, I can't do this.

This book only had one thing going for it. Good pacing. But even that couldn't save it from a whole host of other issues. Many of them were the same as with the first novel: bad characterization, terrible metaphors, and inconsistency. Now that I'm the second novel into the series, I will bring up another issue Clare has: shallow and generic world building.

First off, my reaction:


  IF YOU WEREN'T A LIBRARY BOOK, I WOULD BURN YOU!



A little dramatic, but I think you get my point.

Now for the Character Breakdown!

Clary: In my last review, I complained how Clary was just a mean, whiny little girl. Well, this time around, she's not as whiny. She's just a complete bitch. Yup. I said it. Clary is a bitch. She strings Simon along, bosses people around, and yells at the poor guy on the subway who wanted to see if she was okay. I happened to be reading the Dragon Ball manga in between reading this monstrosity, and came across this panel of Frieza with his arms folded and a bubble that said, "Stop saying stupid things." After that, every time Clary spoke or thought, that image popped into my head. I'd post it here if I didn't want to get busted for copyright infringement. (Cough, Clare. Cough.) My point is, Clary is not likable, at all. At. All. I do not sympathize with her plight. I feel nothing.

Part of this could have to do with her Mary-Sueness. Clare wants her to be oh so beautiful, oh so powerful, and oh so wonderful. She never gets so seriously hurt that a healing rune can't fix it, and she saves everyone else with runes she pulls out of her ass. At one point Magnus says that things can't be created out of no where, and then Clary does it. But then Clare throws in something about hearing angels, and then doesn't clarify. It makes no sense right now. She's just so friggin' special. It's just, uh... She frustrates me so much there are no words for it. It is further exacerbated by her pining for Jace. Even if they didn't think they were related at the moment (because I know they aren't), there is something uncomfortable about it. It could be because they're both irritating. Which brings me to my next character...

Jace: What is wrong with this kid? His daddy issues are so overblown, they have their own daddy issues. He pines, he whines, he makes me want to punch him in his smart-assed face. At least he wears jeans occasionally this time. Yet he still makes so many hard-headed, stupid decisions that get other people into trouble, I would lock him up just to keep others safe. He's really bad for the other characters' health. Clare goes out of her way to make him seem like the perfect warrior. She goes so far as to have Clary (Stop saying stupid things.) mention that fighting is just like sex for Jace.

This made me hang my head and shake it. Pop culture has its share of war-loving races. If you've seen an episode of Star Trek:TNG that goes into Klingon culture, then you get what I'm talking about. Sparing is foreplay. Hell, in ancient Sparta, men had to capture their wives. A man was successful if he didn't get the holy hell beaten out of him because the women were just as well trained. Knowing this, I couldn't believe Clare went there. Jace comes off as having a death wish. I never got the sense he "got-off" fighting things in this sequel. Clare doesn't really understand that a true warrior prefers to talk with his fighting skills than with words, and Jace uses a lot of words.

My point is that Jace spends most of the book being self-centered and stubborn than anything else. And again, I could care less about him. Dude just ain't healthy to be around.

Simon: I have mixed feelings about him. I want to say that Clare ruined him, but he's the only one who doesn't worship the Mary-Sue that is Clary even though he says he's in love with her. He knows she's stringing him along, even when they're "dating," and knows he will never have her full attention. I would prefer him not to lurv her except as a friend, but love triangles are all the rage these days. Especially when a vampire is involved.

Yup, Simon becomes Vampy Simon because for some reason urban fantasies just can't stand having normal humans running around. They're weak and die very easily, in case you didn't know.

So, Simon is turned and has to cope with the change. I think Clare had a rare moment when he and Clary discuss how to tell his parents. As someone who lives with a photosensitive disorder, I connected for that brief moment. I know what it's like to look outside and see how high the sun is so I can avoid it. I thought this book might have been better if it was about Simon having to cope with a drastic life change, but then Clare ruins it, as she ruins everything else. At the end, Simon doesn't burn up in the sun. I wasn't pissed. I was absolutely livid. Clare dodged about a thousand difficult decisions she would have to make as a writer by doing that. First off, kill Simon. If she had made it where clothes could protect vampires (which I don't understand why not), then he would have to tell his parents. But that would be heartbreaking and tragic!

Clare, you are such a lazy writer.

Isabelle: Shallow dominatrix in hooker heels. That's how she comes across in this book. Thanks, dear author. She couldn't be more of a stereotype.

Alec: Cinder blocks have more personality. He's just kind of there. Even when the writing is from is point of view, I don't get a distinct sense of anything. Even his relationship with Magnus is just... meh.

Magnus: A character as usual. The only one who made me laugh. His relationship with Alec... Gurl, you can do better! If those homoerotic scenes between Jace and Simon were any indication, you could always go after one of them.

Luke: Not quite as bad ass this time around. Kind of a disappointment. Happy he's alive though.

Jocelyn: Still in a coma, and put herself in it. I have no words for how convenient this device is.

Inquisitor Imogen: Plot pawn. You read that right. Her whole purpose was to act like a moron and almost give Jace important information. Almost. We can't be giving anything away until the sequel. People need to buy them, you know.

Maia: This poor girl has so much promise, but because she's a crummy Downworlder (should also be two words) Clare doesn't really give two damns about her. I really, really like her. It was a shame she was introduced via info-dump, but other than that I preferred her over any other female in this book.

Daddy V: Sigh. Still pretty generic. The worst part, he's a heavy handed Lucifer reference. Clare practically brains you with it when she gave him the last name Morgenstern, or Morningstar. Then she tries the whole sympathy-for-the-devil shtick by having him have a conversation about Milton's Paradise Lost with Jace, because whenever Clare wants the reader to draw parallels between her characters and vastly superior works, she name-drops them like an Acme anvil. I get that she's got the whole fallen angel angle she's trying to work, but she only makes her writing look weaker by bringing up the good stuff.

That said, I'm not hating on Daddy V or Jace because they're assholes or bad guys. I like those types too, even if they're pretty unredeemable. They could be the most deplorable bastard this side of the Milky Way, but if they're interesting, then I'm good. Clare's characters do not fit under even that title. All those years writing fan fiction must have not taught her character development skills.

Besides her characters, there is also the problem with her writing. When I mean writing, I mean the actual words used and the devices she employs like metaphors. That's right, I'm about to throw sentence after sentence of terrible word choices at you, dear reader. In 3, 2, 1...

"... like a glittering needle threading the sky." Needles don't thread, they pierce. Needles are threaded. Not the other way around.

"... there was a tightness in her voice when she spoke his name, as if invisible acids were drying up the syllables in her mouth..." Jace is one syllable. Did you mean the whole sentence?

[Simon's eyes] were the color of black coffee - not really black, but a rich brown without a touch of grey or hazel." I think that one speaks for itself.

Referencing Jace's face: "It was like a book written in a foreign language she'd studied all to briefly." So she couldn't read it. That's easier to say. Not as creepy.

Referencing a voice: "... its sound of cold iron." When iron is cold, isn't it just cold?

The opening of Jace's cell: "A noise like ripping cloth tore through the room. (The sound depends on the fabric, but its never very impressive.) Clary heard Isabelle cry out as the door blew off its hinges entirely, crashing into the cell like a draw bridge falling. (If it blew off it's hinges, why did it just topple over?) Clary could hear other noises, metal coming uncoupled from metal, aloud rattle like a handful of tossed pebbles. (Pebbles do not sound metallic on their own.)"

Referring to Shadowhunter crowd: "Instead they seemed to go still, the way a pride of lions might go still when it spotted a gazelle." So they looked at them like food?

Referring to Simon digging himself out: "The grave was roiling like the surface of an unsteady ocean. Ripples appeared in its surface..." Dirt ripples. Riiight.

"The glow of Jace's seraph blade send elegant arcs of light shattering across the water..." This is not the word you are looking for.

"The sword seemed to shimmer blackly in the starlight." That's it, I quit.

There are so many more, but I'll stop there because they're making me physically sick.

I was going to bring up instances of words she used improperly (she said the ship had a corrugated steel hull), but I wanted to bring up something that I've noticed confused other reviewers: the purpose of The Clave.

I admit, this baffles me too. We're 2 books in and I've got the idea that they're supernatural police with an elitist point of view. They say they're protecting the "mundanes" (She totally ripped that off from Fables.), but Shadowhunters treat Downworlders more like sub-beings than anything else. It's like they're not even people anymore. When Daddy V says they're corrupt, he's right, but not in the way he believes.

All of Clare's best characters are Downworlders. They come across as more human than her main characters Jace and Clary, who are both Shadowhunters. They've got that imperfection to them that makes them relatable. They put up with all the crap the Shadowhunters throw at them to help save the day. We, the reader, are supposed to like the Shadowhunters, but I don't. They're prejudiced jackasses. They don't see people. They see monsters. Both Jace and Clary have slipped into that mindset at some point, and Alec is too much of a coward to admit he's in a relationship with a warlock. All Clare's antagonist wants to do is replace one elitist system with another, and I hope that both end up broken at the end. The Clave doesn't really deserve to be saved, but Daddy V shouldn't win either.

Clare tries to make Shadowhunters the good guys, but they come off as people who don't think their farts stink. And at the same time, about a thousand pages later, they're useless.

City of Ashes gets one star for her heroes being terrible people masquerading as the good guys. I know it wasn't intentional, but that's my point.

I'm so tired of these people. I'm going to watch Grimm.

View all my reviews

I'm Going to Read the Mortal Instruments

That's right. I have been encouraged by laughter and indignation at what I did with my review of the first book of the Mortal Instruments series: City of Bones. So, I have decided that I'm going to accept the challenge and read and review all of them.

Why will I subject myself to such torture if I didn't like the first one? Well, as my mother will tell you, I like to be contrary, especially if given the opportunity.

Since I needed the second book to read, I went on a field trip to the base library. I like to own my books, but there was no way I was going to spend any more money on the series. My copy of City of Bones was for my Kindle, so I didn't really get to appreciate the gem that was the cover. This time I'm going to spend time studying the cover.

Nice art work. I kind of like it besides the fact that the girl - whom I assume is our special snowflake Clary - looks like she's half way to Super Saiyan. I give the designer a pat on the back for utilizing complimentary colors.

I see one problem though. If I were a pre-teen girl or one of those Twilight moms, then the Stephenie Meyer quote might draw you to this book. If your a person who prefers quality writing, like me, then you might run in the opposite direction while flicking holy water at it. I admit, I flinched when I was helping to buy these books for my cousin, but I heard these were okay. Now that I've read the first one, it helps lessen the sting knowing that I supplied her with the first three books of Ursula K Le Guin's Earth Sea Cycle.

Now let's look at the quotes on the back of the book.

"Fans of... Buffy the Vampire Slayer will instantly fall for the series." -Publishers Weekly

From what I've seen, I suggest watching Grimm instead since, you know, Buffy writers created it.

"Reminiscent of the Harry Potter series - and that's high praise!" -teensreadtoo.com, five-star rating and Gold Star Award review

There are buckets of other reviews out there that say Cassandra Clare actually plagiarized  from Rowling's history-making series. Like this one. And then there is this one about Clare's behavior during her days in the HP fandom.

"A gorgeous fantasy that's so good, it's dangerous." -Libba Bray

Sorry, but the only dangerous books I know of are religious texts and the Anarchist's Handbook.

 "Hold on tight for a smart, sexy thrill ride." -Libba Bray

City of Bones was neither smart, nor sexy, but I'll try to have hope.

"A tale edge by lightning, driven by power and love." -Tamora Pierce

Tamora Pierce! Say it ain't so! I remember you from my pre-teen days. You're pretty well respected in the YA fantasy community. Please tell me they tied you up and beat this blurb out of you.

So there we have it. Now I have no choice but to start the book. Please feel free to show your support with further laughter. Or roll your eyes. I know I'm not the first one doing this.

Update On This Thing Called Life

It's been exactly twelve days since my last blog post. What have I been doing? Writing and reading.

I recently finished the Hunger Games trilogy by Suzanne Collins. I'm not doing a formal review because it really isn't needed. I'll just say I enjoyed reading it until the end. Why? Because I felt cheated. I wasn't properly distraught enough with the tearing of hair and gnashing of teeth. I should have been crying harder than I was during the dog fight scene in Bait Dog. Instead, I felt disconnected. A lot of her decisions seem to be shooting for the dramatic more than the story called for. Oh well. I would still recommend it as a YA novel for young women over anything involving vampires or werewolves. The Hunger Games is a solid sci-fi dystopia.

As for my novel, I'm chugging along. I'm currently working on chapter 32, which leaves me with three more chapters to crank out when I'm finally finished with it. I'm enjoying writing them because they're so exciting. My little Skyriter is getting a serious work out, but I need to take a gum eraser to the typeface again. Smacking into an ink covered ribbon has a tendency to get them all clogged up. Go figure.

By the way. When the end our your first novel is in sight, it teases you. This is the second time I felt this. The first time I thought I was done, and then had to add fifteen more chapters to round it out. It's a much better novel now, but I'm going to have to do some serious word chopping at the front end. Cutting out all "had" and "that" should cover a good couple thousand.

I also had the luck of recently reading a self-published short story by and internet acquaintance of mine. It's a genuinely good story with good writing. I can't wait for the his first novel. Check out the link:



For those who wonder if I have any other kind of life outside of the Word World, I have taken up bowling. I guess it was only natural since I work in a bowling alley, but I've joined the league team. I suck, but I'm getting better through practice, a concept that is not foreign to me. (See writing.)

I have also discovered that my dog is terrified of the rain. Not thunder storms. The rain. I know there has to be a story in their somewhere. Too bad Dan isn't a girl dog, or I would name her Wicked, short for Wicked Witch of the West. It's the water thing. You would think he was freaking out because he's melting. My dog is special.

Enough rambling. Time for me to go back to Typo. I think my cramp is gone for now.

Spring, The Anathema of the Vampire: Me and EPP

It's that time of year again when temperatures start to rise and people begin to put away their winter gear. The showers go away and the flowers bloom revealing vibrant blossoms of crimson, pink, sunshine yellow, virgin whites, deep violets, and soft lavender. Spring is a glorious time when the temperature is not too hot or cold. It is the expectation before summer days laying by the pool. For everyone spring is wonderful.

Except me.

I know I said I would use this blog to talk about not only writing, but my life. It is time for me to relate a very important piece of this to those who read these words. I have a disease that dictates many aspects of my life. It is called erythropoietic protoporphyria, or EPP for short. With that giant question mark that just popped above your head, I now will attempt to explain what that is.

According to the American Porphyria Foundation's website:

Erythropoietic Protoporphyria is characterized by abnormally elevated levels of protoporphyrin IX in erythrocytes (red blood cells) and plasma (the fluid portion of circulating blood), and by sensitivity to visible light that is usually noticed in early childhood and occurs throughout life.

If you just made a face to go with that question mark, let me clarify. The protoporphyrin that has accumulated in every portion of my body that blood flows through is irradiated by long wave UV rays resulting in photosensitivity. This photosensitivity does not feel like a normal sunburn when you have been out swimming too long. It's more like holding your hand directly over the flame of a campfire, but not being able to pull it away. Or like getting hit with hot grease when cooking bacon. Or like a steam burn. Repeatedly stabbed by tiny needles works too. I've even heard the pain being compared to putting your hand on a hot stove and cuts filled with salt. To sum it up, the sunlight hurts.

Now, before any of you feel bad for me, I will come right out and say that I've been lucky. My case remained relatively mild until my sophomore year of college. I was able to wear tank tops and go swimming in my childhood and teen years unlike some children who have more severe cases of EPP. I've always known that I had it because I was diagnosed by my father, another with EPP, but I was formally diagnosed in June of last year. I was able to have a "normal" life, but perhaps that is why it is so hard for me now.

With the onset of spring this year in a new region of the US called central Cali, it has been especially difficult. Where before all I had to do was cover my arms and hands when outside, now I must cover my head and face. If I am "burned", light from my computer screen and those nifty florescent light bars they use in commercial buildings irritate the damage. Now I must wear gloves and sleeves when just getting online, and I can't take off my cardigan that I wear over my work shirt when it gets too warm at work because I am surrounded by brand, spanking new lights.

The ordeal has been frustrating with such gorgeous days. I am relegated to closed windows to limit the amount of exposure, something that is surprisingly hard on me. I never thought I would ever get this bad or feel this amount of pain. I never dreamed that I would have to plan my day around how much exposure I would get. I heard it said by a man with EPP in a video posted by the FDA that it was more like, "how much pain do you want to deal with that day." I think that is about as accurate as a person could get. When burned, I am tired and in pain. I feel the strong desire to tear off my skin, if it's especially bad, and often suffer from bouts of irritability. I feel like a wounded animal who just wants to limp away and find a  cool, dark place to recover. The one thing that doesn't happen to me is the outward signs of scabbing or discoloration. I swell a bit, but stay pale.

So, how do I deal? I suck it up. I use my weekends to stay inside and recover from any exposure that I've gotten. To limit my exposure to strong light, I have lowered the brightness on my computer. My typewriter is also getting a pretty good work out lately since I can't spend too long in front of the screen. I also keep my house cool to lessen the pain, much to the chagrin of my husband, but he deals with his favorite snuggie. (He wears it like a robe.)

As you can see, I'm managing but the mental implications have been more difficult to overcome. I know I'm trying to relay my experience, but there are some things that are still too personal for the internet. Besides, I'll feel like I'm whining if I haven't been already. My father has probably had it a lot harder than me, so I feel like I'm putting my foot in my mouth, but I do have one more thing to say:

Being in public is a strange experience when you're all covered up. People look at you with concern and skepticism. It's almost like they think I'm going to rob them, even if I'm driving in my own car sitting at a stop light. Once a lady gave me the most terrified look I have ever seen before she took a right. This is where I voice my confusion on societies fascination with vampires and the romanticism associated with them, and yet very little know about people with photosensitive disorders. When I tell people what I have, they look like they have found  Bigfoot. If they have already heard of or known someone with a porphyria, they often ask very polite questions about how I'm doing and are generally pleasant to talk to. Yet, I still have a conflict with what I like to call Vamp-fans. The popularity vampires have in our culture makes it easier to explain what I might be going through, but at the same time certain aspects of it baffle me to no end. To sum up this conflict, I shall relay a conversation I once had with my mom in a chinese restaurant. I believe it was triggered by a girl wearing a Team Edward shirt. (The following conversation may be paraphrased.)

Mom: I can understand why younger girls might like vampires, but I don't get the women who are in their thirties, or even my age, who are into it. I mean, I watch those things, Buffy and Angel, but I don't understand how obsessed they are with it.
Me: Mom, you married a vampire.
Mom: You're right, I did.

A fun revelation it was, but the best thing ever said was my husband: "Who ever thought being married to a vampire was romantic must have been on something."

There you have it, my short, half-assed explanation of what it's like for me these days with EPP. I could get more in depth, but I think I'll let the pros do it for me. Visit The American Porphyria Foundation for more on EPP, the innovations to treat it, and other forms of porphyria. For the best stories on the experience of living with it, the FDA interviews with two well spoken gentlemen and a doctor are worth viewing. They won't take much of your time and will help you fill your quota for Porphyria Awareness Week (April 22-28). I see that question mark again, so yes, that is a thing.

I'm going to go work on my book now.