Rating: 3/5
Year: 1991
Genre: Horror/fantasy
Read Again? Eventually
Third and final in a series of horror/fantasy/mystery novels. "Jinx" takes place about a year after "Burning Water." Say late 1987. Diana Tregarde comes to visit her old pal Larry Kestrel in Jenks, Oklahoma (get it? Jenks, Jinx, hahaha), and to sit in on an English class as a living, breathing example of a Real Author. The two of them are soon working on a mystery (just like old times): something hungry and evil is after Larry's son Derek.
Derek is the "It" boy at Jenks High School, if only because the school's reigning princess Fay Harper has the hots for him. He's not a jock, doesn't wear the "right" brands, doesn't have rich parents, and doesn't drive a flashy car...so why does a girl who gets everything she wants even bother breathing the same air as Deke?
Monica Carlin is the New Girl, and she likes Deke. But everyone knows that Deke is with Fay. Bad luck for her. The thing that's after Deke wants Monica, now, too.
Jinx High drags, holy crap does it drag, and starts off disappointingly in that Lackey continues being heavy-handed and clumsy--something "Burning Water (1989)" didn't suffer from, but its prequel "Children of the Night (1990)" did. She started with a tight concept and solid writing with the first, but went flabby for the next two. Again, she can tell a good story, but it's how she tells it that annoys me. It's a combination of word choice, wordiness, emphasis and convenience.
Word choice: some of her descriptions read like a vocabulary list. Writing about cars? Find a car magazine and randomly pick out words. Steering box. Rat. Undercarriage. Fiberglass. Now just toss them into a paragraph when you're writing about a car and don't worry about whether they belong where they go.
And don't be afraid to throw clumsy combinations out there. "Max limit"? "About to reach the max limit on their library card"? Why not "about to max out the library card"? Less wordy, less clumsy, and it echoes a term we've all heard about credit cards.
Wordiness: Never, never make use of a half-dozen words when thirteen will do. Does she get paid by word-count?
Emphasis: She _likes_ that italicized text; she also literally likes "in no way," absolutely. Stuff like this should be used sparingly, if at all.
Convenience: Cheap little tricks that manipulate the plot where she wants it to go. Monica just got her license a month ago, but she's allowed to drive alone at night? Well, yeah--but only so the bad guy can try to scare her into a wreck, and so Diana Tregarde can explain psychic phenomena to the kid, Learner's Permits be damned. The kid doen't touch ass to driver's seat again for the rest of the book.
One particularly ironic scene has Diana lecturing the class on writing style, warning about unrealistic protagonists and unnecessary repetition. Is Lackey's own character telling her how to write?
On top of all this, the reader isn't really involved in the mystery in any of the Tregarde books. We know early on who the bad guys are, and we have to follow Diana around for the rest of the book wishing she'd figure it out, already. I was done reading halfway through, and still had half the book to go. Gonna have to take two points this time.
And for all three books as a series, I'll give it 3/5. That's too bad, because this series could have been much better.
Showing posts with label Tregarde. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tregarde. Show all posts
Thursday, January 1, 2009
Tregarde 02: Children of the Night (Lackey, M.)
Rating: 4/5
Year: 1990
Genre: Horror/Fantasy
Read again? Yes.
Warnings: None
This is the second of three Diana Tregarde novels, combining elements of horror, urban fantasy, and gumshoe mystery. In this one, Diana faces vampires in three flavors: psychic, soul-eater, and blood-sucker. There are, of course, romantic complications, since one of the psychic vampires is her ex-boyfriend Dave, and her new boyfriend is the blood-sucker, a charming Frenchman named Andre.
Dave plays rhythm guitar in a rock band called "Children of the Night"; such music they make! They're all vampires, as is their wealthy patron.
There's your sex and rock 'n' roll. What? The drugs? Yeah, well, they were at this party, man, right around Halloween, y'know? And the guy who was throwing the party passed around this Tupperware bowl full of blood-red pills, and Dave was like "Aaaaaahhhhhhh!" and then he woke up as a vampire, man. It was a total bummer, man.
At least he didn't wake up with a turkey head like the guy in that wonderful Thanksgiving film, "Blood Freak."
Diana manages to mention that she's a brown-belt in karate three times, and it's supposed to mean that she's some sort of bad-ass, but I'm nearly a brown-belt, myself, and can only get my ass whipped in Japanese. Belt rank doesn't mean you're any sort of a fighter; all it means is that you've done well in testing. At any rate, she doesn't do well in real-world--she tries punching a vampire and he simply catches her wrist. Hyyyyy--ahhhhh, bitch!! I think Steven Seagal could take her. The next time she goes up against a different vampire, a Japanese "gaki" demon, the soul-eating vampire. He's Japanese, so of course he knows karate, and he goes all Sonny Chiba on her ass with nunchaku (numchucks, to you Americans). This chick really needs to pick her fights a little better.
In all, she's an interesting character. She's got some pretty heavy magic skills, but is forced to make a living in the mundane world. She wants to write the Great American Novel, but her agent got her a contract job writing a crappy, boring romance. Her fatal flaw? She has debilitating panic attacks because of a demon that wanted to eat her. I like it--she has a calling as a sort of magical protector--a Guardian--and could drop into a panic attack at any moment if something trips her triggers. Her vampire-boyfriend helps her deal with it--and amazingly it only seems to take one evening for her to go from complete paralysis and hysteria to "well, that is scary." Too easy, and that sucked a little blood off the score.
My relationship with Mercedes Lackey's writing has lasted much longer than my relationship with the unlamented ex-girlfriend who introduced us back in 1995. For the first 6 years, Lackey was very close to pushing Roger Zelazny aside as my favorite author, period.
Now, not so much.
Her actual storytelling is typically good, if a bit heavy-handed, but I have issues with her dialog and "internal dialog" (where a character's thinking to himself), and it's mostly about word choice. One example that I can remember off the top of my head is that male or female, in this book three different people needing to go somewhere think to themselves, "I need to move my buns." It doesn't ring true, especially when one of the three is a plain old straight-up dude. In the book's setting of mid-70s New York City, I can't really see a straight guy thinking this unless he's being sarcastic. And it's not as if Lackey is being prudish, censoring out "dirty words," because in a different scene the same guy is sizing up a girl and admiring her ass, not her tail.
Then there's the over-use of "in the least" and "in no way" and similar phrases. It's part of her style, and it's in pretty much every book she writes. It's become somewhat distracting, so I cannot in the least let it by without sucking the rest of a point out of the score.
Year: 1990
Genre: Horror/Fantasy
Read again? Yes.
Warnings: None
This is the second of three Diana Tregarde novels, combining elements of horror, urban fantasy, and gumshoe mystery. In this one, Diana faces vampires in three flavors: psychic, soul-eater, and blood-sucker. There are, of course, romantic complications, since one of the psychic vampires is her ex-boyfriend Dave, and her new boyfriend is the blood-sucker, a charming Frenchman named Andre.
Dave plays rhythm guitar in a rock band called "Children of the Night"; such music they make! They're all vampires, as is their wealthy patron.
There's your sex and rock 'n' roll. What? The drugs? Yeah, well, they were at this party, man, right around Halloween, y'know? And the guy who was throwing the party passed around this Tupperware bowl full of blood-red pills, and Dave was like "Aaaaaahhhhhhh!" and then he woke up as a vampire, man. It was a total bummer, man.
At least he didn't wake up with a turkey head like the guy in that wonderful Thanksgiving film, "Blood Freak."
Diana manages to mention that she's a brown-belt in karate three times, and it's supposed to mean that she's some sort of bad-ass, but I'm nearly a brown-belt, myself, and can only get my ass whipped in Japanese. Belt rank doesn't mean you're any sort of a fighter; all it means is that you've done well in testing. At any rate, she doesn't do well in real-world--she tries punching a vampire and he simply catches her wrist. Hyyyyy--ahhhhh, bitch!! I think Steven Seagal could take her. The next time she goes up against a different vampire, a Japanese "gaki" demon, the soul-eating vampire. He's Japanese, so of course he knows karate, and he goes all Sonny Chiba on her ass with nunchaku (numchucks, to you Americans). This chick really needs to pick her fights a little better.
In all, she's an interesting character. She's got some pretty heavy magic skills, but is forced to make a living in the mundane world. She wants to write the Great American Novel, but her agent got her a contract job writing a crappy, boring romance. Her fatal flaw? She has debilitating panic attacks because of a demon that wanted to eat her. I like it--she has a calling as a sort of magical protector--a Guardian--and could drop into a panic attack at any moment if something trips her triggers. Her vampire-boyfriend helps her deal with it--and amazingly it only seems to take one evening for her to go from complete paralysis and hysteria to "well, that is scary." Too easy, and that sucked a little blood off the score.
My relationship with Mercedes Lackey's writing has lasted much longer than my relationship with the unlamented ex-girlfriend who introduced us back in 1995. For the first 6 years, Lackey was very close to pushing Roger Zelazny aside as my favorite author, period.
Now, not so much.
Her actual storytelling is typically good, if a bit heavy-handed, but I have issues with her dialog and "internal dialog" (where a character's thinking to himself), and it's mostly about word choice. One example that I can remember off the top of my head is that male or female, in this book three different people needing to go somewhere think to themselves, "I need to move my buns." It doesn't ring true, especially when one of the three is a plain old straight-up dude. In the book's setting of mid-70s New York City, I can't really see a straight guy thinking this unless he's being sarcastic. And it's not as if Lackey is being prudish, censoring out "dirty words," because in a different scene the same guy is sizing up a girl and admiring her ass, not her tail.
Then there's the over-use of "in the least" and "in no way" and similar phrases. It's part of her style, and it's in pretty much every book she writes. It's become somewhat distracting, so I cannot in the least let it by without sucking the rest of a point out of the score.
Tregarde 01: Burning Water (Lackey)
Score: 5/5
Year: 1989
Genre:
Read Again? Yes
Second of three in a series of horror/fantasy/mystery novels. It takes place maybe 10 years after "Children of the Night," though it was actually published a year before (hence me putting this one first), and this one comes off much better in execution and style.
This one's a lot more graphic than "Children." People start dying shortly after the big 1985 earthquake in Mexico City, turning up hacked-up, diced-up, sliced-up, and toes-up. Diana Tregarde's college pal Mark Valdez--a cop in Dallas--summons her to help out. The killings have everyone freaked out--mundane folks are disturbed by the brutality, but those with any magic or psychic abilities are affected even more deeply. Something is building. Something evil. It started with cattle mutilations. Then people. This is all a build-up to a ceremony in which an Aztec god is born into human form so he can raise up his people and go forth to smite Whitey. That whole Conquistadors thing, with the butchering of an entire culture and the sacking and the looting? Yeah, he didn't appreciate that.
That seems bad--but he's gonna lay waste to Dallas. Is that so wrong? One amusing bit: at least one killing happens in Possum Kingdom (State Park), inspiration for the Toadies song of the same name.
The main subplot is about Sherry and her husband Robert, both friends of Mark's. Smilin' Bob is a famous photographer and an abusive, controlling asshole, and Mark is caught up in the middle.
Like so many of the books in my collection, it's been close to ten years since I last read any of the Tregarde books. This copy used to belong to that unlamented ex-girlfriend; it's got scribbles in the margins, little notes I wrote to her with her permission--normally I'll only do that with my own books, commenting on a scene or a phrase. I can't even identify with the guy who wrote those stupid, banal scrawls. In another ten years, I won't identify with the guy writing this stupid, banal blog, so it all evens out.
Year: 1989
Genre:
Read Again? Yes
Second of three in a series of horror/fantasy/mystery novels. It takes place maybe 10 years after "Children of the Night," though it was actually published a year before (hence me putting this one first), and this one comes off much better in execution and style.
This one's a lot more graphic than "Children." People start dying shortly after the big 1985 earthquake in Mexico City, turning up hacked-up, diced-up, sliced-up, and toes-up. Diana Tregarde's college pal Mark Valdez--a cop in Dallas--summons her to help out. The killings have everyone freaked out--mundane folks are disturbed by the brutality, but those with any magic or psychic abilities are affected even more deeply. Something is building. Something evil. It started with cattle mutilations. Then people. This is all a build-up to a ceremony in which an Aztec god is born into human form so he can raise up his people and go forth to smite Whitey. That whole Conquistadors thing, with the butchering of an entire culture and the sacking and the looting? Yeah, he didn't appreciate that.
That seems bad--but he's gonna lay waste to Dallas. Is that so wrong? One amusing bit: at least one killing happens in Possum Kingdom (State Park), inspiration for the Toadies song of the same name.
The main subplot is about Sherry and her husband Robert, both friends of Mark's. Smilin' Bob is a famous photographer and an abusive, controlling asshole, and Mark is caught up in the middle.
Like so many of the books in my collection, it's been close to ten years since I last read any of the Tregarde books. This copy used to belong to that unlamented ex-girlfriend; it's got scribbles in the margins, little notes I wrote to her with her permission--normally I'll only do that with my own books, commenting on a scene or a phrase. I can't even identify with the guy who wrote those stupid, banal scrawls. In another ten years, I won't identify with the guy writing this stupid, banal blog, so it all evens out.
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