Top-Five Reads of 2012: #2 Stephen Graham Jones' DEMON THEORY

This was one of the first books that I read this year, way back in January, yet I’ve continued to think about it from time to time. Anything that lingers that long deserves a high place in my eyes, as too, too much is forgettable.

Even more, this is the first book that I've ever "Not wanted to put down." Part One of this book sucked me in, sank its gargoyle fangs into my neck, and wouldn't let me stop reading until I reached Part Two. Really, I read that whole first chunk (also probably because there are no “official” chapter breaks) in one evening/night. Though, it might’ve been the fact that I couldn’t stop chewing my already nubbins of fingernails down even further.

I loved the tone, right from the get go. It felt like a well-versed tribute to the horror genres of old. It felt like a “thinking man’s” horror story, and that’s what pushes it above and beyond a regular “scary” story—especially with all the film references. I was giddy with all the allusions and footnotes and explanations peppered throughout the novel. Each new note either made me feel smart for already knowing the reference, or if I didn’t know what the hell Jones was talking about, then I liked learning the explanations.

Film nerdiness aside, the fast-pace, playfulness, frightening moments, and the twisting of basic horror-genre tropes dug their claws deeper into my “Don’t put this book down” impulse. The pace helped keep that sensation alive, too. The novel clips along at a wonderful pace but still doesn’t forget to take the time for a few jokes—some darker than others, but always amusing. And Jones pays tribute to and pulls from every film out there, while at the same time builds something very original—and something that I would love to see hit the big screen in the full, trilogy form (though that might take away from that “thinking man” feel.)

Basically, if you’re into horror, you need to read this book. And if you simply like a scary story, then this is just as much for you. I’ll admit, I don’t normally read much by way of horror or scary stories—and I hardly watch many such films anymore—but if more folks wrote like Jones, then I’d be more than willing to wade through all the blood and gore.

Top-Five Reads of 2012: #4 Mark Haskell Smith's HEART OF DANKNESS

It’s true: I studied writing under this man; however, this isn’t simply lip service to the guy that helped out my own writing exponentially. It wouldn’t be on this list if I didn’t feel like it should be there. This book more than earns its place in my top five.

I'll admit, too, that I'm a fan of Smith's novels. What that says about me and my sense of humor, well, I'll let you be the judge... But the biggest thing a reader might wonder about this book is how an author that primarily writes fiction would do in the non-fiction realm. For Smith, he's made the transition phenomenally well.

This book has his trademark, no-holds-barred sense of humor, which most likely will offend the general populous in some form or another. Meanwhile, he not only presents us with some wonderful and colorful folk, but he also provides a ton of current information on the Cannibus Cup, the legalization movement, and even manages to slip in some philosophical ideas on what it means to be "Dank."

The best part is simply how “human” he paints this culture and subculture. Too many in the general populous think of drugs and still have that back-alley, shady/skeevy dealer that comes to mind. Or maybe they simply imagine Hollywoodized drug lords. But Smith manages to bring this down to the realistic level that many never see, how those people that choose to be in this industry believe in what they’re doing, so much so that it moves into passion, if not obsession, for providing a quality product and producing something truly amazing. Most of these folks aren’t out to nab that quick buck or live that “high” life (pun intended) which so many films paint; they grow because they love their work, and can we really begrudge someone for following a passion?

Seriously, I can't recommend this book enough. And, no, it's definitely not just for "stoners." It's a thoughtful and insightful book that's written for the intelligent reader that has a sense of humor and wants to know a bit more about Cannibus culture. Sure, stoners will like it, too, but to mistake this book as one for pot heads is doing yourself a disservice. 

Top Five Reads of 2012: #5 Katherine Hannigan's IDA B

For those of you that follow my Goodreads, much of this will already be known to you, but for the next few posts, I’m going to breakdown my Top-Five Reads. These are simply books that I read this past year. While a few came out here in 2012, they can have been released anytime in the past. All that matters is that I read them. This year. Enjoy.

I don't think I'm the demographic for this book. At all. But holy crap... I loved this book so much.

On the cover of my copy, there’s a blurb from Kate DiCamillo: "I feel a deep gratitude that Ida B. exists." On first read, I thought that was a rather odd thing to say about a book. Definitely not the traditional blurb that I'm used to (“I couldn’t put it down!” or “I was spellbound!” or some other such nonsense). Yet, after having read the book, I see what she means. 

This isn't simply a story to be told and entertained by and forgotten. This is a story that shoots straight to your core and simply makes you FEEL: happiness, sadness, anger, and everything in between. My emotions rollercoastered right along with Ida B's, and I couldn't have been happier about it—mostly because of the narrator’s way of seeing the world.

The voice in this book is nothing short of amazing. Any author and would-be author has constantly heard about voice, about what your narrator sounds like. It's a concept drilled into you. Yet it's still such a rarity to see and hear and feel such a well-developed voice as Hannigan creates in this book. You can HEAR Ida B the whole way through, and it's a voice that you want to listen to. Despite often used images, Hannigan still manages to make Ida's outlook so unique that you can't help but love the way the story is told. And by the end, you want more, to follow this wonderful character around a bit longer, if only to keep hearing this voice.

I'm not saying that anyone and everyone should run out and buy this book, as I don't feel like it's one for everyone, and there will be many that it simply won't resonate with. But, like DiCamillo, I'm just glad that this book exists. To me, this is why I write, in hopes I can create something that will click so strongly with even a single person.

P.S. Much as I wanted to 8-bit the covers for these, I simply don't have the time, as my top albums and films of the year will follow.

Pissed Off Book Reviews: Jeff Lemire's Sweet Tooth

Today marks the beginning of a new series of posts for me. As I intend to continue my "Songs That Made Me Like the Band" posts—though I probably need to come up with a better name—I intend to continue these as well. For these, I realized that there are some books and stories in the world that simply make me angry. And I'm not talking about being angry because I'm offended or because the book sucks; I'm angry because I'm jealous that I didn't think of it first—or have as much talent as these authors/creators/illustrators. The more angry I am, the better the story. To kick this whole thing off, I'm taking a look at the beautifully ugly world that is Jeff Lemire's Sweet Tooth series.

After reading Lemire's Essex trilogy (you can see my snippet reviews here, here, and here), I tracked whatever else I could: The Nobody and the first volume of Sweet Tooth. I enjoyed both, but it was Sweet Tooth that I couldn’t stop thinking about. Unfortunately for me, the library did not have the newer volumes, and my lack of funds kept me from purchasing them. Luckily for me, I happened upon the graphic novel section of the library the other day and was happy to discover that they’d finally acquired the next three volumes of the series.

In short, I devoured them. I read all three within the span of an hour or two and wished and wished that volume five was available. (This one, I have, in fact, preordered. Broke or not, I need this stuff.) 

These books are amazing. Where I wasn’t 100 percent sold with the first volume, I had no idea that this story would build into something that would piss me off. And these books have angered me to no end, with their amazing characters, ugly—albeit fitting art style—and page layouts to melt the face.

The series has been compared to Mad Max, and it's an apt comparison, as these are set in a post-apocalyptic wasteland. But then you have to toss in the hybrid kids—all of the children since a plague ravaged the world have been born half-human, half-animal. We follow the exploits of one of these offspring, Gus, a.k.a. Sweet Tooth. There's what's left of the government, turned militia, who stops at nothing to find a cure for the mysterious plague. A large chunk of the population has a religious devotion to the hybrid kids, figuring that they're the next step in evolution. And there are the survivors, simply trying to scrape out a living in this decimated world. If it sounds bizarre, that's because it is. However, odd as the premise may be, the characters are what carry you through this stark and violent world.

Lemire has this way of humanizing everyone and everything in his stories. It doesn’t matter if he’s writing about the titular deer-boy child stumbling through the apocalyptic world in his naïveté or if he’s writing about the gruff and brutal anti-hero of the lot or if he’s writing about the doctor forced into unethical experimentation in order to find a cure. Each one of these folks exemplifies everything that is wonderful and horrible in each of us. Even if you don’t like these people, you can’t help but care about them, want them to make the right choice, to keep their moral compasses intact, and—above all—you want them to survive. They can’t give up, because it would simply be too heartbreaking, and the outlook for the future too grim. Besides, the art has already painted a grim enough picture...

The rough lines and misshapen proportions and oversized heads and other defects most artists would erase and rework until they looked right, these imperfections Lemire leaves intact. But they compliment the story perfectly. It gives the whole series this honest and raw feel that not only reflects the world that Lemire has created, but it also shows who these characters are. They’re imperfect, and Lemire isn’t trying to hide that fact. At all. And those that tend to look like monsters, often are. To the casual viewer, the art might look childish or even unskilled, but you’d be fooled. All you have to do is look to his layouts to understand that there is a genius at work here.

The layouts, you say? Yes. Mother. Fucking. Layouts. This guy is a genius. I’ve never freaked out about a page’s design, but these books do some of the coolest things that I’ve ever seen in any comic to date. Most are very untraditional, and most are a reflection of the arc/theme of that particular issue. For example, one issue is modeled after a children’s picture book and even has to be turned sideways in order to read the thing. Another issue has HUGE panels that fill up almost the entire page, but there is a small bar that runs across the bottom with one of the characters dictating into his tape recorder, which—of course—compliments what’s happening in the larger panels. I would say more, but it’s best if you simply see these things for yourself. In short, Lemire creates the best possible ways to tell his story, stepping WAY outside of the traditional comic panels and ultimately producing one of the most interesting story presentations that I’ve seen.

In the end, these books aren’t for everyone. And many might take a look at them and think I’ve lost my mind. But give them a chance, take the time to inhabit this ugly and beautiful world that Lemire has created, and I have a feeling that it’s a dreamscape that you’ll be just as angry about as I am.

Anger Rating (out of 5)