Review

Abbott in Darkness – Book Review

December 31, 2022 by hpholo Leave a Comment

Never in my life did I think I’d enjoy a book about accounting adventures on a distant planet, but if anyone can change my mind, it’s D.J. Butler.

In Abbott in Darkness, John Abbott is drowning in academic debt, but has a solid chance to pay it off through his new job with the interstellar Sarovar Company. Trouble is, that company operates in a solar system forty light-years from Earth, and he and his family have given up everything just to get there. He has to make this job work, or else they’ll be stranded light-years from home with little hope of ever going back.

But making the job work will be more dangerous than anyone expected.

John might be a humble forensic accountant, and he might have been assigned to secretly investigate corruption and theft at an isolated outpost—but the trouble he uncovers is far more complex than simple careless greed. It’s a plot that could shake human presence on this planet to its core, and thus his family with it. With those kinds of stakes, leaving the problem for someone else just isn’t an option—but none of the solutions presented are simple ones, and soon John must decide whether he wants to do what’s best for his family … or do the right thing.

It should be noted: Epic space opera and rip-roaring adventure, Abbott in Darkness is not, so set those genre expectations aside right now. What Abbott in Darkness is is a refreshingly grounded science fiction novel that takes a realistic look at what it might be like to uproot one’s family to the other side of the galaxy, and then have to deal with the ramifications of a political situation one didn’t even know to expect. There is resultant action and adventure—and parts of the novel are quite intense—but it’s not adventure sci-fi so much as the tale of a normal guy trying to make his way through a potentially deadly situation using normal guy means, and the way it balances these elements makes it one of my favorite novels of the year.

On the sci-fi end, Butler has crafted a planet that is both familiar enough to support Earthly life, but alien enough to seem genuinely foreign—especially in terms of the aliens themselves. The Sarovar Company’s success in the solar system hinges upon the production of Sarovari Weave, an intensely durable fabric produced by the native Weavers. From a human perspective, the Weavers are familiar only in that they’re vaguely crab like; they are barely capable of human language, with mouths only able to form simple words in the local pidgin, such that all trade is conducted through combinations of pidgin and pantomime.

Sarovari Pidgin itself plays a substantial role in the novel, too; since John eventually wants to make his fortune as a trader in Weave, he naturally must become versed in the language—and it ends up having lifesaving usefulness when his investigation leads him to have several dangerous run-ins with some Weavers. It’s not merely a cosmetic conlang, either. There was a part of the climax where I had to keep zipping back and forth between the page and glossary to keep up with the specifics of what was going on, and I loved seeing the language put to such essential use. (There were context clues in the scenes, of course, but anyone who’s familiar with my reviews by this point knows that I would shoot fictional languages into my veins if it were not more practical to just, you know, read them. 😂)

Avoiding spoilers, by the end, the entire book hinges upon John’s ability to wield this language (if inexpertly), gain a new and thus-far-unheard-of understanding of the Weavers’ needs and challenges, and bend all those things under the power of compromise. It’s an exciting book, and there are some wildly exciting and heroic moments near the end, but the heart of the book’s conflict is solved by unexpected (nonviolent) means, and this was one of the things I enjoyed most about it.

Another of my favorite elements is how present John’s family is in the story. It’s very easy for novels of this nature to say “The hero arrived with his family” and then push the family off to the background so the protagonist can do hero stuff—but John’s wife Ruth, his daughters Ellie and Sunitha, and even the family dog Animoosh are all visible and active elements in the story. Ruth is a stalwart pillar of support in John’s life, unafraid to ask pointed questions when necessary, and their precocious, curious daughters provide a vehicle by which to transmit useful exposition to the reader, while also charming the reader—while also reminding John of what he’s fighting to protect, especially when subtle dangers began to creep into the mundane corners of their lives.

There are more than a few scenes where the family gets involved in the dangerous action—namely during a field trip gone awry, and especially during the second half of the climax—and seeing them work together for survival as a unit without becoming an adventure movie stereotype became one of the most delightful elements of the novel (once I got my heart rate back down).

Finally, John himself is an admirable regular guy hero, fiercely loyal to his family—but also the sort of man who will look situations that benefit them in the face and ask “Is this right?” The Sarovar Company’s presence in the Sarovar solar system is one predicated on the Weave trade, rather than imperial expansion of territory, but in the course of his investigation, John uncovers some problems that echo those that usually emerge in the process of colonization. The Company doesn’t interact much with Weavers outside of trade, so they’re not being actively exploited—but non-Company-affiliated human residents (which are something of a mystery in themselves) tend to be denied opportunities to succeed in the same way Company transplants do, in a way that ensures John’s own earnings stay high, and also contributes to one of the many complex conflicts bubbling under the surface of this generally quiet world. The company’s reasoning isn’t nefarious so much as practical, but it is a situation that makes someone with John’s moral character take a step back and say, “There has to be a solution where all parties can benefit without harming each other”—and then use the resources at his disposal to seek it out when all the conflicts threaten to bubble into actual violence.

John Abbott is very much a character who doesn’t want to be a hero, but sees when things need to be done and takes it upon himself to do them. That he does so while struggling with the complex morality of it makes him an even stronger character, and frankly one I’d like to see more of in fiction in general.

All this to say, Abbott in Darkness is a refreshingly grounded tale of a common family facing the worst on a planet far from home, and rising to the occasion. It’s a must-read for fans of reluctant heroes in extraordinary situations.

Library of the Sapphire Wind – Book Review

July 8, 2022 by hpholo Leave a Comment

There’s a meme that occasionally graces my social media feeds, lamenting that so many fictional heroes are unqualified teenagers, wishing for a story that follows an old grandma with the benefit of experience on her side.

Jane Lindskold’s Library of the Sapphire Wind has become the book I recommend whenever I see this meme.

In Library of the Sapphire Wind, Meg, Peg, and Teg are three ladies of retirement age and the only people in attendance at a book club when, suddenly, they find themselves transported to another world—summoned by three precocious youths who were hoping for mentors from their own world to help with various weighty problems. The three book clubbers, however, are the first humans this animal-headed trio has ever seen, and they’re not sure what to make of them.

However, Meg, Peg, and Teg are also three ladies with useful experience of their own, and they reason that, since they’ve been summoned to an alternate magical world to help solve a problem, they might as well see what they can do.

After all, it’s more exciting than regular retirement could ever be.

And as a former librarian, a semi-retired archaeologist, and a dedicated parent and grandparent to generations of children, they might be more qualified than even they realize, especially when the magic of the summons points them toward the isolated, destroyed ruin of the titular Library of the Sapphire Wind—along with the young summoners they have to manage on the way.

I can’t gush enough about this book, y’all.

I knew I was going to like it from page one because, let’s face it, librarians, archaeologists, and cool grandmas make for great characters in any type of story—but then the mini talking carrier pterodactyl showed up, and then a discussion of the magical translation linguistics of the world of “Over Where” (as the main characters dub it), and I’m a sucker for linguistics and pterodactyls, too.

My personal reading preferences aside, though, this is a more complex book than I expected it to be.

The animal-head motif that defines the residents of Over Where makes the book seem like it’s going to be a fun storybook adventure—and it definitely is a fun adventure—but fox-headed Vereez, stag-headed Grunwold, and lion-headed Xerak all have reasons for summoning aid that are darker and more complicated than the book’s colorful cover would suggest.

And while this tale told from the viewpoint of these three would likely present them as the heroes of their own stories, the tale as told by Meg, Peg, and Teg is one of how these characters need to mature, and how the three help them do so along the way. Which isn’t to say that Vereez, Grunwold, and Xerak are children in the conventional sense—Over Where has a different understanding of such rites of passage, where adulthood is not reached at a specific age but by the acquisition of a mature state of mind. Thematically, this raises the question of what it even means to be an adult, with each maturing character yielding a different answer, and often expressing maturity that is surprising for their relative ages. (When one young character speaks of a complicated romantic association, it’s to say, “There’s good in him. I’m just not sure it’s good for me.”)

It’s as much a tale of adventure as it is a tale of three mentors helping three adolescents grow up, and taking their jobs very seriously. There’s also a not-so-subtle jab at famous fantasy mentors like Dumbledore who send young protagonists off to do dangerous world-saving things without giving them useful guidance, such that I wonder if the book wasn’t entirely written as a reaction to such mentors.

That doesn’t mean it’s a book one reads for its Important Themes, though. Library of the Sapphire Wind is ultimately a book of complex, thoughtful points wrapped up in an adventure that is just plain fun. There are plenty of exotic locations for the main characters to explore; the Library itself is as cool as one would expect a magical library to be (complete with its own sentient, incorporeal guardian, from which it draws its name); and the variety of monsters the characters face as they travel to and excavate the library are as enthralling as any that ever captured young imaginations in children’s stories (Mine, at least; I’m a sucker for monsters, too).

The depth to which the worldbuilding goes is hypnotic, as well. Much is made of the summoning spell’s translation magic and how the characters must adapt—and thus learn more about each other’s worlds—when the magic doesn’t know how to translate specific words or concepts. There are also plenty of wonderful background details that don’t necessarily contribute anything to the story (yet—there’s a sequel, Aurora Borealis Bridge) but still serve to flesh out the world of Over Where as a living, breathing character of its own. One of my favorite such details was the setting’s concept of reincarnation: Over Where is a world where reincarnation is such an accepted (and proven) occurrence that it exists casually in the background, and though there are different subdivisions of the related belief system that disagree over some specifics, the concept in this setting is also wholly separate from theology. (“What do gods have to do with it? Gods are for crops, moral guidance, explaining how things got started, stuff like that,” as one character says.) It doesn’t affect the story at all that much except to explain why one character lives in a necropolis community (which exists because of those subdivisions trying to influence reincarnation through the treatment of interred bodies), but it’s still a really cool look into the spiritual and physical logic of the world.

Though, perhaps, given the age of the main characters, reflections on mortality are not wholly out of place—especially when one considers other inevitable effects of age, and in turn how those affect the storytelling.

Though Library of the Sapphire Wind is ultimately an interesting fantasy adventure, it’s not a rollicking quest to beat a conspicuous bad guy in a Hollywood-style castle-crashing battle (though the characters do see their fair share of dangerous encounters and action scenes). Meg, Peg, and Teg are not reckless, daring heroes who barge into danger without thinking. Age and experience has made them careful and sensible (if sometimes to the chagrin of their young companions), and the novel flows at a calm, fluid pace that reflects that sense of care. And yet it’s never boring, but rather appreciative, introspective, and always enjoying the ride—and encouraging its readers to do so as well.

Library of the Sapphire Wind is easily one of my new favorite books. It expertly balances the thoughtful maturity of its older protagonists with the eager energies of its young ones. Combine that with its infectious sense of wonder, and it becomes something the fantasy world needs more of.

Aries’ Red Sky – Book Review

June 24, 2022 by hpholo 1 Comment

Ok, I’ve gotta thank James Young for his patience, ‘cause he sent me an audio code for this book years ago and I’ve spent all that time and multiple listens trying to articulate a review for this thing.

Aries’ Red Sky is a grand, galaxy-spanning take of interstellar politics, war, and the humans that are tossed about in the resulting maelstrom. On one side is the Spartan Republic, which emerged after fleeing the earth in the wake of an oppressive empire. That empire has since been lost to the ages, but some of its spirit remains in The Confederation of Man, which is Earth-centric in manners beyond the mere location:

It holds that all people deriving from Earth belong to Earth—i.e. under the Confederation’s thumb.

And the Spartan Republic has no interest in belonging to anything but itself.

One of the things that made Aries’ Red Sky so difficult to review is, simply, how complex it is. This is not a pew-pew special effects vomit space opera. This is a “You meet characters from both the Spartan Republic and the Confederation and get to like them on a personal level before realizing, ‘Oh, sh*t … they’re gonna war, aren’t they’?” space opera. It’s also a “Yes, the Spartan Republic is generally more sympathetic because of its willingness to fight for its freedom, but there are some real scumbags among its political leaders, too, and here’s a look at how they’re willing to stab the rare competent politicians to benefit themselves, even if it’ll literally result in interstellar war” space opera.

There is tension in every single corner of this novel, and if you’re familiar with Young’s writing, you know he’s going to milk that for all the drama it’s worth. He has a talent for writing heart-wrenching heroic sacrifice and death scenes, and he knows it, and I imagine he allows himself a little devilish grin every time his readers notice.

The strength of this book, though, is that the drama is never restricted to one “good guy” side. Even if the reader is more inclined to root for the Spartans on a philosophical scale, the very human sufferings of both its and the Confederation’s individual characters bring a very realistic and wrenching perspective to the conflict—especially since the ultimate point of the book’s conflict isn’t to win a war, but to stop a war from happening. The amount of sacrifice that goes into merely avoiding galaxy-spanning war is much of the tragedy of this book, especially when one considers that some of the tension is derived from simple misunderstandings and conflicts of military standards. (One side, for example, has a stricter definition of how surrender works, especially with regards to how captured enemies are expected to behave, and when the other fights back without knowing that … unintended trouble ensues.)

Even though the characters’ goal is to prevent a war, the book carries a heavy theme of “War is hell, and it’s especially hellish in vacuum.”

All that said, it’s not a book you read at night for fun while nodding off to sleep. There’s lots to keep up with narratively, militarily, politically, and interpersonally, and the complexity of it is delicious for people who are looking for that sort of book.

But it’s not even close to an easy read.

Still, Young balances the heaviness of the darker conflict with some astute, intelligent, sometimes coy worldbuilding, and some fun easter eggs. (The Lin-Manuel Miranda fan in me was delighted to meet one character attending a Lin-Manuel Miranda Day performance … at a theatre thousands of years in the future on the other side of the galaxy.) There are also elements of the political worldbuilding that are clearly inspired by the frustrations of modern politics—there’s a limitation on how many people from the same political family are allowed to serve, for example, and formal duels are an accepted method of resolving grievances—but it’s never overbearing, and in general the political squabbles are unique to the context of the setting, rather than direct commentaries on modern politics.

Finally, I’d be remiss if I didn’t lavish some praise on Jennifer Jill Araya’s audio narration. She handles a variety of accents and characters—and songs—with aplomb, and while the basic text of Aries’ Red Sky is engaging, I have to say that she makes the audiobook my preferred version.

Also, a fun bit of trivia: Not only does Jacob’s name have a cameo near the end, but his character sings, and it’s a song about a unit called the Obstinate Otters. (There’s a reason these two magnets are prominent on my fridge.)

All in all, Aries’ Red Sky is a great book, and for readers of complex military space opera, it’s a genuine treat.

Arcane – TV Review

March 19, 2022 by hpholo Leave a Comment

OMG Y’ALL. THIS SHOW.

Jacob and I actually watched Arcane when it first aired back in November, as I’m an enormous fan of all things animation and most things League of Legends (except other players 🤣).

But I recently finished what is bound to be my first of many re-watches, and so am properly primed to fangirl all over it. 😄 (Grab some popcorn and maybe some other provisions, ‘cause I’m about to fangirl hard. 🍿)

Though Arcane is based around a cast of champions from League of Legends lore, it’s written in such a way as to be accessible to people who know nothing of the game. On its simplest level, it tells the story of two sets of characters, one from the privileged upper city of Piltover, one from the impoverished lower city, which hopes to separate into its own nation of Zaun. Separating both further, and yet bringing them into closer into conflict, is the emergence of hextech – magic harnessed through scientific processes – and a particular concentrated gem that could be disastrous in the wrong hands …

Admittedly, this description makes it sound rather bland, but the charm of Arcane is found not in its basic premise, but in the artful execution of that premise and the characters that do the executing.

AND Y’ALL. THE WRITING. While I fully admit I often speak in hyperbole, it is no exaggeration to say that Arcane is one of the single best-written TV shows I’ve ever watched, animated or otherwise. 😮 Every single beat of the story comes together like a perfectly-planned puzzle, and the cast of characters is so realistically defined that, even though most are derived from little more than cool artwork and some sound bites, all of them feel like living, breathing creations. Moreover, they’re all morally complex, to the point where Arcane fan groups frequently bubble with discussion of who the actual heroes and villains of the story are. For every moral point made in the story, there’s usually a parallel character making a contrarian point.

The story itself never takes a definite stand on those points, choosing to let the viewer decide, and in fact, given the intensely nuanced view the show provides of all its conflicts, that might be the ultimate point—that there is no right side or perfect solution, just the least destructive of a bunch of bad options.

Which is an unexpected and refreshingly mature theme for a show inspired by a bunch of heroes fighting over a glowing magic rock.

That maturity is another of the things that makes Arcane so surprising. Most adult-oriented animation aims to be as crass and edgy as possible, even when it’s smartly written, and while there is some definite adult content in the show (lots of blood and violence, barely censored nudity, and an artful but still conspicuous sex scene), Arcane’s maturity is found in its intelligence and themes.

I don’t think anyone—LoL fans included—went into Arcane expecting an emotionally exhausting exploration of the complex bonds of sisterhood, brotherhood, and the things that test them; the psychological effects of trauma; class struggle and the invisible things that contribute to it; the paradoxical decisions involved in being a parental figure; the socioeconomic implications of widespread drug use; and the challenges of mental illness and physical disability—but that’s exactly what we got.

All that, and an uproariously fun action fantasy with FOUR of the most kickass soundtracks to ever enter my earholes.

Honestly, I am slightly terrified for Season 2 because making something even on par with Season 1 is going to be a monumental task. 😬

And I haven’t even written about the art yet. Simply put, the show is gorgeous, and so immaculately detailed that, even months after its release, sharp-eyed fans are still finding subtle bits of foreshadowing, hidden character details, and potential hints of plot points to come. There’s not a single frame of this show that does not stand on its own as a legitimate piece of thoughtfully-composed art. The character designs are entrancing in their detail and distinction, and the depth to which both go. (If you look closely, you will see that the artists went as far as to give each character unique teeth. 😮)

Though to a lesser extent, this is true of even minor, background characters, and this is one of the things that makes the world itself feel dynamic and lived-in. Though we’re not privy to these minor characters’ stories, the careful, selective detail put into every aspect of the series’ design suggests that there are stories hidden, waiting to be found, and as a result, the world feels expansive even if we only see the overlapping stories that are relevant to the main characters.

Speaking of dynamic, complex worlds and populations, one of my absolute favorite things about Arcane is its diversity—not merely its presence, but how it presents it. Arcane’s is a world populated by a wide and intermingling variety of races, cultures, sexualities, and characters with varying degrees of disability (both physical and mental)—and all of those things just exist in the world without special comment.

Though some of the characters are faced with challenges because of their traits, they’re never wholly defined by them. Even the iconic Jinx—who by the end of the series struggles with what is probably some combination of schizophrenia and PTSD—is not presented as The Insane Archetype so much as an orphan struggling to find a family after she loses hers in the most traumatic of ways. She’s a character before she’s a theme (though, admittedly, her mental state does contribute hugely to her own challenges, and her volatility shapes much of the central plot). Likewise, hexcore inventor Viktor has a conspicuous crippled leg and a physical condition that deteriorates as the show progresses, but this is never shown as an impediment to his accomplishments. In fact, it doesn’t even become a significant factor in his ambitions until a late-series reveal suddenly makes it very relevant to him—but even then he approaches it from the perspective of “How do I solve this problem so I can get on with the rest of my life?” Again, he’s a living character with complex ambitions and motivations, not a simple archetype.

Honestly, I could go on for pages and pages about the subtle, complex brilliance of every character in this show—and I haven’t even touched on their relationships—but I’m already getting into TL;DR territory. 😆 I did want to comment on one other character, though, as she’s the embodiment of how unconventional, creative, and thoughtful the characterization decisions are in this series.

In most other series, Ambessa Medarda would have been some generic-but-imposing seasoned soldier dude, powerfully present but ultimately unmemorable because we’ve already seen so many characters of the type. She definitely has a powerful presence—beheading a conquered political foe in one’s first scene will have that effect—but she’s also old enough to have graying hair, built like a tank, sexually assertive enough that one of her first actions when she shows up is to hire a hot boy toy to attend her, and not only that, but secure enough in her own body that she wields nudity not as a tool of seduction, but a weapon to disarm others. Her character alone inverts so many viewer expectations that she’s a marvel. (Seriously, how many female characters can you name in popular western media that get to be both old and badass? Or sexual for themselves rather than for a male protagonist’s gratification, and beyond that, in a way that is well aware of how uncomfortable it makes people AND EXPLOITS IT FOR STRATEGIC GAIN?)

Y’all, in the course of writing this, I think I just realized I’m an Ambessa fangirl.

Which, in retrospect, is not all that surprising because Jacob’s heard me fangirling over everyone else in the show since November. 🤣 But I digress.

I literally have one complaint about the entire show, and it is that Sky Young could have been put to better use. (To say more is to enter spoiler territory, but those who know, know. 😐)

Anyway, one final point:

My personal method of defining Truly Great Art is to consider not only how much I enjoyed experiencing it, but how much it makes me want to create. The best entertainment, in my opinion, inspires the people who encounter it to put their own creativity to productive use—and Arcane did that for me in quite an unexpected way.

I’ve always known that I wanted to be a writer, but early in my creative explorations, I was also heavily into art. In fact, my future career of choice in high school was in animation, to the point where I specifically took French as my foreign language with the intent of joining the French animation industry. (French animation tends to be more experimental and mature, and appealed to me more than American animation. Perhaps notably, the studio that produced Arcane—Fortiche—is French.)

Various things went awry in my first semester of college, though—the best of which was that I discovered the depth of my aptitude for writing, the worst of which was that my first art class made me hate drawing so much that I put away all my art supplies and never touched them again in any significant way.

Until I watched Arcane.

Something about the maturity of its story and the absolute gorgeousness of its art—not to mention that it was the kind of animation high school me wanted to produce—shot straight into my brain and rekindled a passion I thought I’d lost forever. I’m now drawing again for the first time in fifteen years, just for fun—and in the process I’m re-discovering how much drawing actually contributed to my early development as a writer. I notice details differently when I’m trying to render them in graphite, or ink, or digitally—and that in turn affects how I describe things on the page.

Naturally, one of the first pieces I produced was fanart of my favorite Arcane character, so enjoy some Viktor:

(By the way, if you want to see more of my art, I post it over on Deviant Art and Instagram.)

All this to say, Arcane is one of those shows that left an indelible impression on me. It is a masterpiece in every way, and an inspiration in just as many, and I am glad to live in the same era as it.

Tales of Arise – Video Game Review

February 13, 2022 by holojacob Leave a Comment

When I’m not writing, I’m usually playing video games, and my main game of the month has been Tales of Arise.

This is actually my second play-through (and my first experience with the Tales franchise in general). Initially, I wasn’t the biggest fan of Tales‘ combat system, but the good news is each character has a distinct playstyle, so by switching from the melee-focused protagonist (Alphen) to range-focused characters (Shionne and Rinwell), I was able to enjoy the game a whole lot more.

That said, the screen can become very chaotic at times, and one of Rinwell’s mechanics doesn’t help here. Since she can steal and then cast enemy spells, I often lost track of which spell animation was safe for my characters and which was a damage-dealing death zone. That and the charging enemies led to a lot of frustration. The window to utilize Kisara’s boost ability (to end charges and reduce future charge damage) is significantly smaller than those of other characters, leading to a lot of times where a charge would begin off screen and end with the enemy barreling through my characters for big damage.

In terms of story-telling and worldbuilding, I found the game a bit . . . hit or miss, but the main cast of characters is fun and likable, and some of the big reveals are very memorable. I guess the worldbuilding just didn’t click with me from the start for some reason. Maybe it’s because the locations and villains all felt very one-note to me. Also, the music is epic. So epic it began to wear on me. I think you could use the music in the tutorial area for “final dungeon” music in a different game. (From H.P. – This music is bomb and I will listen to it forever.)

But these are all minor gripes for what is – at its core – an excellent and meaty gaming experience. In many ways, Tales of Arise felt similar to Final Fantasy 7 Remake, except I enjoyed Tales significantly more.

From H.P. – I haven’t played Tales of Arise yet, but I’m going to solely because there’s a series of subquests in which you collect a bunch of owls, and I’ve been hearing their distinctly-voiced hoots enough that I need to collect them for myself. Forget the rest of the story.

Akame Ga Kill – Anime Review

February 18, 2018 by hpholo Leave a Comment

*Thanks to reader John B. for the recommendation! 😀
Akame Ga Kill is a deceptive series.
Its colorful character designs and opening set up – Main character Tatsumi leaves home with two friends to join the Capital army and Be Good Guys – lead the viewer to think that it’s going to be a fun shonen series where characters solve problems through lots of yelling and the power of friendship. After all, the show’s first problem sees Tatsumi separated from his friends and resting at the home of a sweet, hospitable aristocratic family and their soft-hearted daughter, Aria.

It’s not fifteen minutes before the series goes “LOL jk ;P” and rears its disturbing head.
Tatsumi’s two friends? Oh, he finds them. In a vast and gory torture house kept by that family’s sweet, soft-hearted daughter. Who captures and kills lower class wayfarers, because why not? After all, they’re just poor and unnecessary people.
In case you need more evidence of how crazy she is, here’s a pic of her at the height of her crazy:

And the Capital that Tatsumi aims to fight for? Turns out it’s full of more of the same. But he doesn’t find this out until Night Raid, a notorious team of assassins, shows up at the torture house to reveal the truth. Everyone outside the capital has been lied to about the Capital’s competence and purity. By that point, Tatsumi’s allegiance is decided.
Akame Ga Kill, then, is the story of Night Raid as they assassinate all the bad guys.

Akame Ga Kill is a flawed anime, but if you’re looking for a bright, colorful, and yet exceedingly tragic, bloody show, it fits the bill. Its particular brand of insanity is what anime does best – and oh, there is SO MUCH insanity – but you have to be in the mood for its violent sense of morality.
Granted, the series isn’t trying to make you ponder the complexities of said morality. It gets around the obvious moral issue of solving problems though murder by making most every one of the antagonists an undeniable caricature of abject evil. Prime Minister Honest (ha) is a nasty piece of work, the true power behind the child Emperor’s throne, interested only in maintaining his power and blatantly corrupting the young Emperor to do it, all while munching gluttonously on raw meat.

The most obvious in the series, though, is General Esdeath. One of the most powerful military leaders in the Empire, her mantra is “The strong survive and the weak die,” and she tests the strength of her opponents to sadistic ends, at one point even burying a population of 400,000 people alive.

In most cases, I’d consider the extreme characterization to be cheap writing, but Akame Ga Kill has such fun with the absolute wackiness of its characters, good and bad, that this was for once forgivable. Seryu Ubiquitous may be an overzealous Capital soldier with a twisted sense of justice, but this zeal also led her to have hidden guns installed in the stumps of her arms and her throat, which is simultaneously disturbing and hilarious.

And that’s before you even get to the adorable horror that is her pet (and additional weapon) Coro.

(This is not his final form.)
For real, this show watches like Soul Eater and One Piece had a baby and then left it to be raised by Future Diary.
That said, Akame Ga Kill is a show that you watch for how wack it is. Even the good guys have their levels of crazy, like Sheele, whose backstory is that she’s so darn clumsy and absent-minded that she can’t find anything she’s good at…until she happens to go on a murdering spree and realizes she’s just that good at killing people. (Also she fights with a giant pair of scissors.)

And even though Tatsumi is easily the most well-balanced of the characters, it takes him and his innocent-looking sweater less than half an episode to decide that he wants to kill everyone he’d wanted to work for fifteen minutes before.
But that doesn’t mean the characters aren’t well developed in their own weird ways. The first several episodes of the series are a bit average, but when The Jaegers take the place of the early antagonists, the series really begins to take off.

Mundane-looking Wave is a do-gooder like Tatsumi who just hasn’t realized what the Capital’s up to. He’s what Tatsumi could have become if he hadn’t come upon Aria’s murder house, and this makes him surprisingly easy to sympathize with. Bols is a creepy-looking silent type…who stays creepily silent only because he’s too shy to speak up, and is actually something of a family man. Angel-haired Run is allied to the Capital only because he sees the revolutionary cause as a lost one and wants to do actual good from within the flawed structure. Though Seryu is nuts, she genuinely believes her intentions are pure. Granted, the stylish Dr. Stylish is just nuts and the remaining Kurome has a rather uninteresting backstory. But even General Esdeath has a softer side: despite her infamous sadism, she only wants to experience true love, and when she eats a good ice cream, wonders if her soldiers would enjoy it. This doesn’t really make up for the fact that she’s an absolute sociopath, but it is amusing to watch, if only for its absurdity.
Overall, this is a show that you watch more for its characters than its plot – first because the plot is the very simple “Kill all the bad guys,” second because the plot is not very good.
Akame Ga Kill watches like a show that tries to do both too much and too little in the expanse of its allotted time. The first several episodes watch like baddie-of-the-week filler, albeit entertaining filler. The series also introduces the concept of the 48 Imperial Arms – some truly neat magical weapons – but doesn’t explore them beyond using them to give the characters their identifying abilities, and generally watches like a device that was intended for a longer show that didn’t happen. (We don’t even see half of the 48.) There’s also a point where Esdeath decides that Tatsumi is her true love; Tatsumi confesses his connection to Night Raid in the same episode, hoping her affection for him will cause her to change sides. She doesn’t, viewing his confession as merely cute, which is not remotely believable behavior for a general who’s famous for subjugating enemies of the Empire in horrific ways – and whose very goal is to destroy Night Raid.

The climax of the show is also a hot mess, with the young Emperor realizing that he hasn’t been a good Emperor and that he’s been surrounded by complete sadists (HOW COULD HE NOT NOTICE?)…and then bemoaning his condition by whipping out the biggest Imperial Arms ever and wrecking the heck out of the Capital. Because that will certainly make up for all his failures. 😐
There’s not even a clear reason for the title by the end. Sure, the titular tsundere Akame plays a significant role in the series, especially after her sister Kurome shows up as an antagonist, but her role’s no more significant than that of the other protagonists. (It’s telling that I didn’t feel the need to mention her before this point.)
Maybe she earned the title because she’s one of the few survivors? (Oh, right, like you expected a show like this to let your favorite characters live. 😛 )
Still, despite its flaws, Akame Ga Kill is worth watching for what it does well. It’s not for everyone – particularly those who dislike bloody violence or shows that require a huge suspension of disbelief – but if you’re already accustomed to the wacky heights that anime can achieve, it’s a fun show.

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Note: Holo Writing is a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program and, as such, may earn a small commission from any product purchased through an affiliate link on this blog.

Self-Publishing for Profit – Book Review

February 18, 2018 by hpholo Leave a Comment

These days, “How to Self-Publish” books are a dime a dozen. Chris Kennedy’s Self-Publishing for Profit is $6.99 on Kindle, but it’s easily the best $6.99 you’ll ever spend if you’re looking to break into self-publishing.
Kennedy’s writing background is similar to that of many indie writers, which is to say, he’d never really been a writer until he suddenly had an idea that wouldn’t let go (in this case, the idea that became his book Red Tide: The Chinese Invasion of Seattle). Since then, he’s gone from never having written a novel at all to writing several series and an ever-growing universe with several other authors and running his own publishing house. All this said, it makes him a perfect teacher for new writers who are starting in a similar position.
This is what makes Self-Publishing for Profit stand out from other self-publishing books. Though its first three sections focus on information similar to what you’d find in other books – namely, marketing and engagement – the fourth is where the book becomes truly valuable for writing newbies. It outlines everything from how to figure out what kind of book you should write (Tip: Don’t just follow trends, and try to be niche when you can.), to creative writing tips he learned through trial and error, to a section literally titled “How Not to Look Like a Newbie.” Formally-trained writers won’t have much use for this section, but if you’ve barely ever picked up a pencil except to write a grocery list, this is the section for you.
Formally-trained writers, depending upon their experience with book production, will have some use for the fifth section, which outlines how to perfect a book for publication. This section covers the different types of editing (copyediting and content editing), how to go about finding editors, words to avoid, and simple ways to tighten up your writing. Before I started publishing, writing had been one of the defining elements of my life – the people around me have identified me as “the writer” since 4th grade, and I took as many creative writing classes as I could and even majored in creative writing at one point – and there were a few practical tips in this book that I hadn’t come across even in my years of study!
These sections, then, are a gem for the new and inexperienced writer. The subsequent sections, however, are invaluable for writers of all kinds. Sections six through nine cover the important details one must consider to give a book the best chance of selling. Section six covers basics like cover design, while section seven covers how to make the book available for sale as an eBook. Section eight, though, is where this area begins to shine, covering the many ways in which books can be repackaged for sale – as print books, audiobooks, or foreign-language editions – and providing the reader with the resources to make those versions happen. This is perhaps the most valuable thing about this book – for every piece of advice given, there are links to resources where readers can pursue that topic further. Section nine delves back into marketing, and the book ends with section ten, which explores what to do next, whether you want to continue producing books, or whether you want to figure out why your current book isn’t selling as well as you’d hoped.
All in all, Self-Publishing for Profit stuffs a whole lot of information into a small, quick, easy-to-read package. If you want to self-publish but have no idea where to start, this is a great place, and even if you already publish, it can’t hurt to give it a read. You’re bound to learn something new!
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Note: Holo Writing is a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program and, as such, may earn a small commission from any product purchased through an affiliate link on this blog.

Entwined – Book Review

November 23, 2017 by hpholo Leave a Comment

Azalea is trapped. Just when she should feel that everything is before her . . . beautiful gowns, dashing suitors, balls filled with dancing . . . it’s taken away. All of it. The Keeper understands. He’s trapped, too, held for centuries within the walls of the palace. And so he extends an invitation. Every night, Azalea and her eleven sisters may step through the enchanted passage in their room to dance in his silver forest. But there is a cost. The Keeper likes to keep things. Azalea may not realize how tangled she is in his web until it is too late.
Dun-dun-DUNNN.
So reads the inner flap of Entwined by Heather Dixon.

I picked up this novel, first, because its cover was beautiful, second, because there is no cover mention of a dashing, mysterious boy for Azalea to fall in love with (always a danger behind pretty girl-in-a-dress covers), and third, because a line on the first page describes someone who “dances like a brick.” As someone who does, indeed dance like a brick, I can empathize with that. Also, as far as similes go, that’s a pretty good one, and I am a fan of good similes.
Dancing is wholly important to Entwined, as it is based upon the fairy tale “The Twelve Dancing Princesses.” However, though it has fairy tale roots, it is not entirely the froofy novel that one might expect. Oh, there are plenty of balls and suitors and giggling in poofy dresses and, especially, spinning around to an array of dances that no one but a ballroom dancing aficionado could recognize. Plenty. Beneath its glittery surface, though, Entwined is ultimately a story of loss, recovery, and sisterly girl power, and as fairy tale adaptations go, it’s one of the more satisfying ones out there.
Oddly for a fairy tale novel, Entwined doesn’t give many early hints that it is based upon a fairy tale, which was one of its strengths for me. There are some references to old magic that lingers in the royal family’s palace, as well as the disgustingly evil former king who magicked the place, but most of the pages are devoted to the twelve sisters and their relationships with each other and their father. There is a mother at one point, too, but in classic fairy tale fashion, she’s dead before the story even gets going. (This is not a spoiler. The moment you meet the sweet, loving, sickly mom who smells of cake and baby oil, you know she’s a goner.)
The interactions between these characters are believable and interesting, often in unanticipated ways. The sisters’ relationship with their father, while precarious, even uncomfortable at first, became one of my favorite parts of this novel. I also liked how the author managed to keep all twelve sisters present in the story. She could have easily chosen to select two or three of them to represent the whole and then shooed the rest to the background, but she didn’t. Readers do see more of oldest sisters Azalea, Bramble and Clover (The sisters are named in alphabetical order, like hurricanes), but the others appear often enough to make the reader feel the largeness and, more importantly, the closeness of the group.
Even the minor characters in this novel are well-used, even though most of them begin the story as either supreme irritations or suspiciously likable in the obvious-romantic-interest way. A character of the latter sort almost derailed my liking of the book early on. At the book’s opening ball, we meet the rumpled yet dashing Lord Bradford, who has such amazing dexterity that he can catch a falling pudding glass and leave its contents perfectly undisturbed. In my experience, when a character is rumpled, dashing, and named “Lord” anything, when he impresses the ladies with amazing feats of legerdemain, and when he appears less than 30 pages in, you know some sweet, passionate, period novel romance is coming. Usually. Luckily, Entwined does not go down this path, even though it could easily have done so. And though I was initially skeptical of him, Lord Bradford gradually earned the honor of being added to My List of Fictional Guys that I Would Totally Date If They Popped Into The Real World. Another favorite was the unfortunately named Lord Teddie Haftenravenscher, who despite his initially irritating presence rendered many scenes in which he appeared hilarious. The same is true of other suitors who show up trying to win the princesses’ hands. The cast of characters in this book is large, but each one is handled well for the purposes of the story.
The one main downside to this large cast, though, is that in a book this size, it leaves minimal room for characterization. The characters are likable and well-described, but even the princesses do not change much, except to have momentary spurts of courage or realize that they are in love. In fact, the only person who undergoes any significant change is the King, which is probably why the scenes in which he appears become some of the strongest in the book. The general staticness of the other characters’ development makes for some slow reading in parts. However, the general likability of the characters’ personalities compensates enough for that lack to make the story worth continuing, as does Dixon’s attention to random little details that render the world of her story vivid and entrancing.
Interestingly, I enjoyed most of these little details of the story more than I did the main conflict itself. Oh, yes, the princesses dancing sneakily in a magical hidden clearing with creepy-hot magical fantasy guy Keeper was kind of cool and, if the book is ever made into a film, will make for some awesome visuals. When it came down to it, though, I was more interested in the sisters and their lives than I was Keeper and his motives. And though, by the end of the novel, Keeper is meant to be a truly terrifying figure, I wasn’t as terrified by him as I would have liked to be. However, his evilness does manifest in some visually neat ways at the end, and it does allow for pretty much every character in the story to go out with one big BOO-YA!, which we do not see enough of in books (both all characters having a good send-off and actual use of the word “Boo-ya!” Not that “boo-ya” is actually said in the story, because that would be weird and out of place, but it is totally there in spirit).
Since I am a cover geek, I feel an obligation to comment on Entwined’s cover, too. As I mentioned earlier, Entwined has a beautiful cover, with wonderful curly lettering, shiny leaf-shaped silver detailing, and a back-shot of a girl in a pretty but slightly shabby-looking gown—a perfect fit for the story because silver becomes more important than one would expect, and because the princesses in question are not from a particularly rich kingdom (another element that I liked. When was the last time you saw a poor-ish princess?). As beautiful as it is, though, it is still one among many girl-in-a-dress covers that seem to be gracing the YA shelves these days, and because of that, it risks being lost between [insert book of the moment here] and all of its cousins.
Enter the savior that is Heather Dixon’s blog.
I liked Entwined enough to scour the Internet for the author’s blog, and found it at http://story-monster.blogspot.com. Dixon was (and still is) a storyboard artist before she became a published author, and as artist-writers tend to do, she produced some art in keeping with her story. My initial reaction upon finishing the book was a positive one, but after visiting the blog and seeing her art, my reaction rocketed from one that I could coherently describe to “OMG AZALEA AND BRAMBLE LOOK LIKE DISNEY PRINCESSES BUT AWESOMERRRRR!!!1!1!!lsfjsklajf jailf 😀 ”
Exactly that.

I am totally an animated princess fangirl. Even for princesses that no one cares about anymore (Odette and Amalthea, anyone?). And Entwined’s cover, as beautiful as it is, does not exude that “THIS COULD TOTALLY BE A PRINCESS MOVIE BUT BETTER” vibe that Dixon’s art does, which is a shame. Her art isn’t even featured in the book itself, which is a greater shame. I know that the publisher is trying to appeal to the masses who can tolerate generically pretty girl-in-dress covers, as well as the audience that likes fairy tale books but shuns the illustrated ones as too childish. Still, as is, the cover and lack of illustrations are causing it to miss that valuable princess-fangirl audience (Don’t laugh. THERE ARE MORE OF US THAN YOU THINK). I’d like to see an edition of the book designed and illustrated by Dixon herself for this very reason. It would do the story better justice.
In essence, Entwined is unique among fairy tale adaptations in that it’s more interested in its characters than its magic. If you are looking for a subtly-realized book about sisterhood and light romance with a dash of magic thrown in, it’s highly recommended. It’s also recommended if you love Disney princesses and animation in general, because though it does not look it, this book is an animated classic waiting to happen.
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EXTRAS!
If you’re not a fan of Heather Dixon at this point, you will be after seeing this coloring sheet that she produced:

Also, her Deviant Art page: http://betterthanbunnies.deviantart.com/
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Note: Holo Writing is a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program and, as such, may earn a small commission from any product purchased through an affiliate link on this blog.

What to Watch When You’ve Finished The Seraphim Revival (or, a Holiday Gift Guide for Mecha Nerds)

November 19, 2017 by hpholo Leave a Comment

The Seraphim Revival may be complete, but if you’re anything like the guy who wrote it, you’ve got a fever and the only prescription is more…giant robots. Well, never fear, ‘cause Dr. Holo’s got you covered.
The titles listed below are movies or anime series that either 1) influenced the writing of the Seraphim Revival trilogy, or 2) were discovered afterward but are still hecka fun for mecha fans.
We enjoyed all these, so we hope you will, too! 😀 (And of course, if you happened upon this page and have no idea what the Seraphim Revival is, we invite you to check it out! The first book in the series, Bane of the Dead, will be only $.99 through 12/30/17, so this is the perfect time!)

Mobile Suit Gundam Wing

You can’t be a mecha fan without also being a Gundam fan. It’s the rules. There will be a lot of Gundam on this list. Jacob’s first foray into the world of Gundam came in the Toonami golden age’s airing of Gundam Wing, and we may have squeed a little too loudly when we realized it was finally getting a collector’s edition Blu-Ray release this year. If that so expensive but UGH SO PRETTY collector’s edition makes your wallet scream, there are some Blu-Ray only options, too: Collection 1, Collection 2, and Endless Waltz. The main series and Endless Waltz are also streaming on CrunchyRoll.

Mobile Suit Gundam Unicorn Re:0096

Gundam Wing may be the most pivotal Gundam for us, but Gundam Unicorn is hands-down our favorite. Set early in the Universal Century arc, it includes a lot of fan service references to classic Gundam, but it’s far from a fan service series*. Its plot is solid, and the animation is the most spectacular any Gundam series has ever seen. The series’ Blu-Ray/DVD release is a little wack, though (2 episodes per disc? What is this? 2001?), so if you don’t want to take the physical media plunge, it’s available for streaming on CrunchyRoll.
*I should specify that the fan service refers to mecha and character appearances, not boobs. If you want boob fanservice there’s, like, three seconds of boob in The 08th MS Team.

Mobile Suit Gundam: Char’s Counterattack

Char’s Counterattack is a Gundam classic – perhaps the Gundam classic – and it got a fantastic Blu-Ray release late last year. It won’t make a whole lot of sense if you’re not familiar with the original Mobile Suit Gundam series (or Unicorn), but it’s still worth it for the awesome mecha/military drama (and if you enjoy watching annoying characters get their just, fiery desserts). >D

Mobile Suit Gundam: The 08th MS Team

The 08th MS Team is unique in Gundam for being a small, down-to-earth story of a quartet of Gundam fighters, rather than an epic, sweeping space opera. The shifted focus from space battles opens up room for characters with very human, relatable problems, and the cast is charming in its authenticity. It’s not a must-watch, but it is a good watch for Gundam fans who are looking for something a little different.

Mobile Fighter G Gundam

Jacob scoffs at this entry, but H.P. loves it, so it stays. G Gundam is, admittedly, the black sheep of the Gundam family in that it is…well, terrible (especially in comparison to masterpieces like Char’s Counterattack and Unicorn).
However, it is also a whole lot of fun, if only because of its plethora of questionable choices that somehow earned the approval of a production committee. It’s like the anime equivalent of Miley Cyrus at the 2014 Grammys. A unified world where the governing country is determined by mecha fights every 4 years? Check. Hilariously stereotyped Gundam designs and pilots? Check. A Gundam so evil it’s called the Devil Gundam? Check. Participating in Gundam fights to find one’s missing brother even though that is probably the most inefficient method of finding someone ever? Check. The main character has a dramatic backstory, so at least it shares that with other Gundam series.
In short, it’s a hot mess, but a hilarious mess, too. For a serious Gundam fan, it’s probably the least watchable of all the Gundam series. But for fans of sprawling mecha train wrecks, it’s a blast. It hasn’t gotten a Blu-Ray release (understandably so), but it is available in two collections on DVD and available for streaming on CrunchyRoll.

Neon Genesis Evangelion

There have been approximately 20,000 versions of Neon Genesis Evangelion, and all are entertaining (if you find entertainment in angsty teens, mecha drama, and relationships so twisted they’d make the Greek gods cringe), so take your pick. Classic series? The End of Evangelion movie? The Death and Rebirth movie? These all had a huge influence on the writing of the Seraphim Revival books.
Our preferred versions, though, are the recent Rebuild of Evangelion movies: 1.11: You Are (Not) Alone, 2.22: You Can (Not) Advance, and 3.33: You Can (Not) Redo. This is primarily because they update the low-budget original series with beautiful animation and mecha battles, and then go off the track (and off the rails) in 3.0: You Can (Not) Redo, diverging from the plot of the original to deliver something new to fans.

Transformers: The Movie

Gundam Wing may have been the pivotal mecha series for Jacob, but Transformers was the gateway drug. Without this masterpiece of toy-inspired filmmaking, the Seraphim Revival series wouldn’t exist. The 1986 movie traumatized and enthralled Tiny Jacob and even today is a regular replay in House Holo.

Robot Jox

Robot Jox holds up better if you watched it as a kid before you had any real taste in movies, or if you just like bad movies. Jacob is the former and H.P. is the latter, which made this movie perfect for us. It’s G Gundam-like in that nations settle their disputes by pitting giant robots against each other, and there is drama! Deception! Hilariously bad stereotypes! But mostly 1980s robots wailing on each other. It’s a fun little watch if you want a laugh involving giant robots.

Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann

Jacob discovered Gurren Lagann too late for it to have any influence on the Seraphim Revival, but it’s H.P.’s favorite anime of all time, the anime recommendation that convinced Jacob she was marriage material, and a list of mecha recommendations would be incomplete without it.
This is a ridiculous show where the robots are powered by fighting spirit and manliness, where they combine and sprout new weapons with even less regard for physics than normal anime, and where the scale of battle becomes so extreme by the end that…you know what? It just has to be seen to be believed. However, beneath all its hyperactive action, there’s a story with an unexpected amount of heart, and by the end, it’ll leave you cheering for humanity. (And these days, how often can you say that about anything?)
If you don’t feel like forking out the insane cash for that (admittedly gorgeous) limited edition Blu-Ray box set, there’s a more wallet-friendly DVD edition. It’s also streaming on CrunchyRoll.

The Vision of Escaflowne

Escaflowne didn’t influence the Seraphim Revival as much as the aforementioned series, but it’s worth mentioning because 1) it’s unique for its fantasy setting (as opposed to a futuristic sci-fi setting), and 2) it just got a wholly unexpected Blu-Ray collector’s edition that is actually pretty slick. Outside a few dated technology references, the anime has aged surprisingly well. (It was 20 years old last year.) The story goes a little weak at the end, but the rest of the series makes up for it with dang cool Guymelef (mecha/armor/whatever) battles, a fascinating world, and, let’s face it, Allen because he’s super hot.
Jacob surprised H.P. with this edition for her birthday, and it’s been one of her favorite watches this year.

Pacific Rim

Pssh. Did you expect us to write a post of mecha recommendations and not include Pacific Rim? 😛
So ends our list of Seraphim Revival watch-alikes! Mecha fans, what would you add?
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Note: Holo Writing is a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program and, as such, may earn a small commission from any product purchased through an affiliate link on this blog.

Kingsman: The Golden Circle – Movie Review

October 18, 2017 by hpholo Leave a Comment

Kingsman: The Secret Service is so beloved a movie in House Holo that when Kingsman: The Golden Circle was announced, it called for a Mandatory Date Night.

In The Golden Circle, Eggsy’s life as Galahad is good. He’s a new but accomplished agent of the Kingsman, and at the moment his biggest challenge is impressing his girlfriend’s parents. That all changes when a well-timed missile barrage obliterates every Kingsman agent except him and Merlin and every resource at the Kingsman’s disposal, which means they must follow their doomsday protocol: teaming up with the Kingsman’s American cousin, the Statesman, and figuring out what the heck happened.
[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6Nxc-3WpMbg&w=560&h=315]
The Golden Circle had one of the most fun trailers ever, and the movie almost lived up to that. It was ultimately a fun watch, as what it does right, it does very right. However, what it does wrong, it does very wrong, and for this reason, it falls short as a worthy successor to The Secret Service.
First, the good: The first Kingsman movie had some of the best action scenes in the history of spy films, and The Golden Circle keeps that tradition going. While frantic and heavily stylized, the action is easy to follow and over-the-top in the best way.
The opening scene, which sees Eggsy fighting a bionic-armed baddie in (and around) a Kingsman taxi as it’s being chased through the streets of London by cars armed with miniguns watches like this film’s answer to the backwards car chase scene from the first, as if to emphasize Eggsy’s progression as an agent. Now, when it comes to car combat, he can certainly do more than drive fast backward. Likewise, the climactic scene is wonderfully ridiculous, even if it goes a bit long, seeing Eggsy and Harry Hart (yes, the dead one) rampaging through the big bad’s retro-inspired headquarters while robots fight in the background and Elton John literally kicks bad guy butt in a marvelously sparkly feathered suit. Really you should see this movie for that alone. It is wondrous.
Next, the interactions between the core characters are as engaging as they were in the original and even improve upon relationships set up in the first movie. Any boyfriend would have reason to be nervous meeting his girl’s parents, but Eggsy’s girl? She’s Princess Tilde, having stuck with him from that infamous scene. Which means that the parents he’s meeting are the king and queen of Sweden. Talk about pressure. Likewise, Harry Hart’s return is both awesome and bittersweet – awesome because YESSS COLIN FIRTH IS BACK AND HE HAS AN EYEPATCH, bittersweet because being shot in the head does things to a person, even if the bullet only passed through the eye. In this case, it’s resulted in such incredible memory loss that he doesn’t remember being a Kingsman at all, much less the personal value he has to Eggsy and Merlin, and their attempts to get him to remember who he is are heartbreaking to watch. Even after one finally works, he’s not the Harry Hart he used to be; on a basic level, having one eye when he’s used to two throws his perception off, which complicates his combat abilities. On a deeper level, he struggles with phantoms that haunt his mind as a result of his injury, which leads Eggsy and Merlin to question his remaining abilities even if he’s still confident in them. There’s more depth in these characters than most other spy films have led me to expect of the genre.
The same cannot be said for the antagonists, which is where The Golden Circle’s flaws begin.
We learn early on that the titular Golden Circle refers to a drug cartel run by the bubbly but vicious Poppy, an accomplished businesswoman/drug dealer with such a flair for wholesome 1950s nostalgia that her secret lair in the jungle is a heavily-guarded re-creation of the fun parts of a retro town – diner, salon, bowling alley, all the essentials. This could have been a great template for an antagonist; after all, Valentine from the previous movie was similarly over-the-top, with his penchant for global murder despite his charming lisp and aversion to the sight of blood.
Poppy has none of that. When we first meet her, she tests the loyalty of an inductee to her drug ring by having him jam his still-living recruiter into a mincer and then forcing him to eat a burger made from the ground-up meat of the man. Which, admittedly, is wonderfully nuts, but also gives us as viewers nothing to like about her. I hate, hate, hate the trope of bad guys killing off minions to show How Evil They Are, because it makes one wonder how that bad guy manages to find loyal minions at all. Once Poppy states that she prefers robots to humans anyway – and apparently has access to such technology that advanced prosthetics and semi-sentient dogs and salon attendants are no big deal – it becomes clear that the only reason why Poppy even keeps human staff is for the writers to show How Evil She Is. Combine this with her actual plan, and she has no redeeming qualities, which makes her an uninteresting villain.
In her nefarious scheme, she’s poisoned the various drugs she sells with a disease that leads to a quick and miserable death. Her plot? Force the US to legalize the drug trade so that she can run her business legally, and do so by holding all the poisoned victims hostage (because possibly killing all your customers at once is a great business model). If all goes according to plan, the president signs an order legalizing the drugs, she sends the antidote out worldwide.
Except the president doesn’t, which is one of the film’s most obnoxious problems. I have never seen a man without a mustache twirl an evil mustache that hard, but this guy manages. When this president learns of the threat, his public plan is to gather the affected to field hospitals and treat them; his actual plan is to not sign Poppy’s order and just let the affected die, thereby winning the war on drugs in one fell swoop. After all, the users are just worthless druggies, right? As if we needed more emphasis on how despicable he is, the gathered victims are literally put in metal cages and stacked on top of each other. The president isn’t even a character by this point; he’s a caricature, and not a very good one at that. Like, even if a politician wanted to do that sort of thing, how could he even expect to get away with something that obvious? I mean, other possible complications aside, SOMEONE IS GOING TO NOTICE THE THOUSANDS OF CAGES BEING SENT TO FIELD HOSPITALS WITHIN THE SPACE OF A FEW DAYS AND BLOW A WHISTLE IN TWO SECONDS ON TWITTER 😐 😐 😐
*Update: …Um, 2018, when I wrote the above paragraph, I did not mean it as a challenge. 😐 😐 😐
Literally every scene with the president in it watches like an angry college student with minimal writing skills still had some election year steam to blow off and so farted their hot, wet angst all over what should have been one of my favorite movies of the year.
Those are the most egregious flaws, but they’re not the most disappointing ones. That dubious honor goes, regrettably, to the Statesman.
With the Statesman, the writers commit the biggest sin of the movie, taking one of the best and most promising parts of the trailer and criminally under-using it while reducing it to a series of caricatures (There’s a theme emerging here…). The setup for the Statesman is smart; it’s a bigger, better-equipped, bombastic organization ‘cause ‘Murica (also ‘cause sequel. Also ‘cause their cover business is whiskey, which brings in a whole lot more money than tailoring). However, the movie drops the ball almost as soon as the Statesman are introduced…which is by displaying an astonishing lack of knowledge about their role in the Kingsman’s doomsday protocol. Eggsy and Merlin almost end up set on fire by Channing Tatum (er, agent Tequila) before another agent pops in to say “oops, no, I looked in our files, they’re for real. lol sorry :P”
After that the Statesmen characters are introduced as a series of increasingly cowboyish dudes with alcohol-themed code names and so little characterization that they might have been named after whatever the writers were drinking when they created each one. The only exception is Ginger Ale, who is at least likable, but still not incredibly complex outside of a “I want to be a field agent but this one guy keeps voting me down” conflict. And she certainly doesn’t make up for the sin of introducing Channing Tatum’s nice muscles and then, no joke, PUTTING HIM IN CRYO BEFORE HE EVEN GETS TO BE AWESOME. 😐 😐 😐
If that’s not mismanagement of creative resources, I don’t know what is, but unfortunately that’s what a lot of this movie boils down to. Fortunately, that doesn’t stop it from being generally fun to experience. The most perfect example of how the film watches is a reprisal of the famous bar fight scene. The setup is absolutely stupid – a random Statesman antagonizes the Kingsman for literally no reason other than that they look prissy – and the violence that follows is wholly disproportionate to the offense given. Narratively, however, it’s brilliant, referencing Harry’s iconic scene from the first movie to show how his trauma has affected his abilities, and then transforming into a chance to show what an awesome badass new ally agent Whiskey is.
And that’s really what The Golden Circle is: a plethora of brilliant moments strung together by an equal plethora of terrible ones. The brilliant moments make it worth watching, but the others will make fans wonder why we didn’t get a movie that was as smart and tightly-plotted as The Secret Service.
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Valiant Dust – Book Review

October 16, 2017 by hpholo 1 Comment

When David Weber puts a book in your hands and tells you to read it, you do, and so here is my book report on my recent ARC of Valiant Dust by Richard Baker.

In Valiant Dust, Sikander Singh North is an aristocrat-turned-soldier, off to begin his first mission on the Aquilan Commonwealth starship CSS Hector. Sikander himself is not wholly Aquilan; rather, he is from Kashmir, a colonial possession of Aquila that, while economically valuable, does not yet have the technology to construct its own fleet of interstellar warships, and so he serves there to learn how he might better serve his home. As he does so, though, he’s in for a bumpy ride. For CSS Hector has been sent to the planet of Gadira II, where tensions between the ruling sultanate and the rebel caidists have long been mounting on the planet, and where forces that aren’t supposed to be there have suddenly appeared in orbit…
Valiant Dust is easily one of the best pieces of military sci-fi I’ve read this year. Its fast pace and its complex, yet efficiently characterized cast make it a fun read, while its streamlined descriptions of far-future ship tech make it accessible. If you’re a reader who has been wanting to try military sci-fi but has been daunted by the overwhelming techno- and military-babble that is so common in the genre, Valiant Dust presents an excellent starting point.
Those praises (and David’s recommendation) aside, I have to admit that the cultures involved were what grabbed my attention most. Sikander hails from an Indian-descended planet, while Gadira II is Arabic-descended and Islamic-influenced. The ruling powers of Gadira are liberal enough to be okay, if uneasy, about a princess taking an active interest in military affairs, while the citizenry is variably conservative – though not, it should be noted, necessarily terroristic, except where the story’s rebellion is concerned. And even then the rebellion is not religiously-based, but rather rooted in citizen concerns that their rulers are making deals with offworld powers that will benefit the elite, not the common people – or that will eventually benefit the offworlders exclusively, leaving Gadira an exploited, ruined planet. The only actual terrorism in the book takes place in Sikander’s past, where he loses much of his family and innocence in a politically-motivated attack. The circumstances surrounding that tragedy – expressed in well-placed flashbacks throughout the book – give Sikander an emotional tie to the aforementioned Gadiran princess (that is, Amira) Ranya Meriem el-Nasir, who lost her parents in a similar manner. (Ranya herself is one of the most engaging characters in the novel. Though a small romance blooms between her and Sikander, it takes a backseat to her whip-smart attention to political details and her consequent involvement in the uprisings that eventually take place. She became one of my favorite characters as soon as she appeared in the book.)
I don’t know enough about the intricacies of Indian or Arabic cultures to comment upon how accurate the depictions are – and really, given that the novel is set so far in the future (implying plenty of time for cultural change) the point is moot. However, given that the vast majority of sci-fi and fantasy involves Western-inspired cultures, the fact that this novel puts non-Western cultures front and center in a respectful, detailed, effortless, timeless way makes it an instant gem. I mention the last detail in particular because while this is a novel made up of currently-contentious puzzle pieces – namely complexities surrounding Islam and capitalist/imperialist exploitation – those pieces are handled in such a way that readers will be able to pick up this book 50+ years from now and still be able to find some meaning in it. It doesn’t try to provide obvious commentary on any of its components, which in turn makes it one of the more accidentally-engaging political reads I’ve ever read.
All that said, though, this book isn’t trying to be an Important Political Book. What it’s trying to be is a hecka fun military sci-fi action book that just happens to have political complexities at its center. The food for thought is there if you look for it, but it’s still a great read even if all you want out of it is explosions.
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Last Exile – Anime Review

September 21, 2017 by hpholo 4 Comments

From Amazon: It’s the dawn of the Golden Age of Aviation on planet Prester, and retro-futuristic sky vehicles known as vanships dominate the horizon. Claus Valca – a flyboy born with the right stuff – and his fiery navigator Lavie are fearless racers obsessed with becoming the first sky couriers to cross the Grand Stream in a vanship. But when the high-flying duo encounters a mysterious girl named Alvis, they are thrust into the middle of an endless battle between Anatoray and Disith – two countries systematically destroying each other according to the code of chivalric warfare. Lives will be lost and legacies determined as Claus and Lavie attempt to bring peace to their world by solving the riddle of its chaotic core.

Last Exile holds a special place in my heart because it was the first anime I bought in full, special edition art box and all, as a budding otaku. This was back in the days when you had to pay $30 for a measly three-to-four episodes, so that was easily $200+ of my hard-earned teenage money.
But now it’s time for The Culling. A house only has so much shelf space, so Jacob and I occasionally go through our anime collection to see A) which old multi-volume favorites have been replaced with slimmer single-volume complete collections, or B) which ones simply aren’t earning their shelf space.
All of which was why I was both excited and nervous to watch Last Exile again for the first time since high school. Would it hold up to the nostalgic glow that I’d so lovingly pictured around it?
Now that we’ve finished it again, the answer is a resounding “UGHHHHH NOOOOO. ;_;”

Not even that classy opening could save it.
Don’t get me wrong. Last Exile is a gem for a certain audience, but unfortunately that is the narrow audience of “steampunk anime fans who are willing to sit through inadvertently inconsistent and stupid characters, lazy plotting, and a let-down of a big reveal all because, on its surface, the series looks darn cool.” And aesthetically, it does.
Last Exile’s neat combination of steampunk/dieselpunk (for the warring nations of Anatoray and Disith) and futuristic design (for The Guild) is what drew me to the series in the first place, and for me, that production design was enough to carry me though the entire series, watching both as a teen and as an adult. Range Murata, who to this day is one of my favorite designers, did fantastic work bringing the world of Last Exile to life, from the unique (if wildly impractical) vanship designs to the clean, geometric aesthetic of The Guild to the simple appeal of the characters’ facial designs. It’s also rare to see art that can do so much with greys, browns, and muted colors and still make for an ultimately optimistic-feeling show, but Last Exile’s design pulls that off with panache.
Which makes it all the more unfortunate that the rest of the show doesn’t live up to that. Though the design of the show is good, the actual animation that goes into it is inconsistent. Most of the time, it’s good enough, but the moments when it falters, it does so in a big way, like one shot in which a crying, sniffling character’s face seems to implode on itself with each sniffle (pretty sure noses don’t move that way, even for the most intense cries). There are also moments where the CG flickers, which is distracting.
Worse than that, though, are the characters and handling of the plot. Again, don’t get me wrong – the characters are basically likable and interesting (except for Alex Row, who comes across as Diet Zero-Calorie Captain Herlock), but there are many obvious points where the writers inserted dialogue or conflict solely for the purpose of tension – for example, early on, where the main characters stress about having to fly into a war zone even though moments earlier, they’d literally chosen to fly into the exact same war zone to deliver a message that isn’t even related to the battle. There are also moments where the characters fail to make obvious observations – when it takes Klaus several minutes to realize that Dio is from The Guild, despite The Guild’s very obvious eccentricity and appearance, or, worst of all, when Alvis suddenly starts FREAKING GLOWING AND MESSING UP SHIP INSTRUMENTATION AND NO ONE STOPS TO SAY, “HEY THAT WAS WEIRD. WHY WAS SHE GLOWING?” Even though two main characters were in the room to see it happen. 😐 Not to mention that, despite being Guild members (if runaways), and thus members of an enemy faction, Dio and his companion are given complete freedom to roam the famed Silvana. 😐 Like, how does this ship even manage to stay in the air, much less become one of the most feared ships in this show? 😐 😐 😐
Anyway, all of this is done in service to the plot, which aims to keep secrets from the viewer in attempt to prepare for a big payoff at the end – the viewer learns little meaningful information about why Alvis is so important to Exile, what Exile even is, why Anatoray and Disith are fighting in the first place, etc. until the last several episodes of the series. By then, the viewer’s patience is spent, and the reveals aren’t even that good. SPOILERS: Anatoray and Disith are fighting because Disith’s land is becoming uninhabitable and its people need a new home. Exile is a device meant to carry people off the planet to a more habitable world (or perhaps regenerate the present dying world. The series wasn’t incredibly clear on that). Alvis is a key to activating Exile.
As reveals go, these are all pretty basic, and I would have much preferred to watch a series where these points were revealed early on, and time was spent answering questions about the world around them.
Like, if they have big ol’ warships with ranged guns, why do they bring the ships close to each other to fight with musketeers?
If Anatoray and Disith are able to come to a truce so easily, why’d they even war to begin with?
How did The Guild even come to be? Why’s The Guild so weird? What’s up with that wack coming of age ceremony? Like Guild why even?
What exactly is Claudia fluid and what does it even do? Okay, to be fair, it’s the magic BS that allows these impossible aerial designs to fly, but even then, where’s it come from? How’s it work? If it’s apparently easier to come by than water (you never see Klaus and Lavie worrying about the quality or amount of their Claudia fluid, after all), why’s the variety of flying vehicles so limited? For that matter, if Claudia fluid allows The Guild to maintain its posh floating fortress, why shouldn’t Disith use it to power alternative housing? Man, you could almost write a Dune-scale series about the economics and politics of Claudia fluid. (*Quietly goes to plot the intricacies of clarien fluid…*)
Finally, if Exile was built to get people off-slash-save a planet, why make it so crazy hard to find and activate? And why use something as specific as a magic little girl and some words that are only passed along orally? What if the words get changed or forgotten over the ages? Also why wrap the thing in killer spaghetti robots? That’s like giving a person all the M&Ms in the universe but coating all of them in a poison shell – except these M&Ms can save a whole population, which makes it worse.
The first third of the series is fun, but Episodes 13-16 provide the clearest proof of how the series fails. These episodes reveal information and twists that, by all means, should have been earth-shaking for the series, but since it’s so badly set up, the viewer has no emotional connection to anything that’s going on. You know you’re supposed to be surprised and intrigued by what’s happening, but it’s just not there, and that same feeling of lost potential continues through the end of the series, where I literally did not care about anything that happened in the last six episodes.
Ultimately, Last Exile tries to be a character-driven political sci-fi war drama, but since it never focuses on any one of those things, it fails at all of them. Dedicated steampunk and dieselpunk fans will enjoy it for the aesthetic, but even for those fans, only the first 10 or so episodes will be worth it. The rest will just be a glaring example of a series with worlds of squandered potential.
It’s still staying on my shelf, though. The nostalgia factor is just too great. (And I really do like those first 10 episodes.)
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