Taking stock

So, now that June is officially over and I've survived the first half of 2009, I thought I'd take stock of how I'm doing, reading wise. Sadly, it's not so good. I've only read thirty-three books this year, which is 1/5 of how many books I read in all of 2008.

Granted, I've been busier this year, but still. Thirty-three books?

I have to go now; I have some major catching up to do if I'm going to make my goal of reading 178 books this year.

Book of the Summer

I know it's early, but I think that Monkey See by Walt Maguire, is going to be the book of the summer for me.

It's got everything I, or any other reader, could want. Genetic experiments on primates who will one day rise up and crush humanity; heart-tugging moments of baby monkey cuteness; a twisty plot that goes from story A to story B to story 8 without stopping; and, my personal favorite part, a do-it-yourself guide to making your own monster.

(At home: just add water! And dangerous chemicals! Totally safe for all ages!)

When Ed the Talking Monkey moves out of his cage at the lab and finds an apartment convenient to public transportation, he has to face not only the stares of confused humans but the snobbishness of the more advanced experiments that follow him into the new social scene.

In the space of a few days, he must decide if his best interests lie with the humans, or with a group of the enhanced apes who think the humans are hogging all the best parking spaces at the malls. Meanwhile, he falls in love with a new young monkey at the lab, both of them unaware that one of the researchers has brought her in for an enhancement that is far beyond what any of them can imagine . . . or want.

There are three separate, yet not-separate, plots running throughout this novel. The first plot has to do with Ed the Talking Monkey and how he deals with his new life after being genetically enhanced by Dr. Cogitomni--who was actually researching a cure for asthma. Ed the Talking Monkey is stuck trying to decided where, in this new world, he actually belongs. Is it with the humans--who don't understand or really like Ed--or the other enhanced primates--who alternately try to befriend and look look down on Ed for his "friendship" with humans?

While trying to decide, Ed the Talking Monkey befriends Gigi, Dr. Cogitomni's newest "guest" at the lab. The two hit it off, once Gigi has undergone enough genetic manipulation to actually speak, that is. Alas, their love is destined to die because Gigi is not only Dr. Cogitomni's newest experiment, but she's also his secret weapon in his evil plan to rule the world. (What, you didn't see that coming? Sorry.)

Spliced throughout the whole, twisted story of Ed the Talking Monkey's journey and Gigi's metamorphosis, is an intricate, step-by-step guide to 1) creating your own monster (so you too can rule the world), but 2) a detailed plan on what to do afterward, including great lines (for the other scientists, your monster, and the cops--should you fail), and a handy key to coming up with a suitable name for your monster.

Oh, and there's a whole other plot about the upcoming monkey uprising. You know, the other the other primates are planning because they hate the humans and want to crush us and enslave us, and that one maybe wants to eat us. Ed the Talking Monkey may or may not be joining them. You know, keeping his options open incase things with Gigi don't work out.

(You should maybe worry about that.)

Like I said: hysterical. It's a very tightly written novel, taking all sorts of jabs at political and social issues, while never letting the laughs stop. I highly recommend it and I urge you to read it. Now. Before the monkeys get you.

PS: Let me know if you too catch the Cylon reference.

Winner, what I am

Yay me!  Not only did I win one of the book giveaways at Goodreads.com, but it's by one of my favorite authors!

I didn't even realize who the author was when I entered the giveaway, but when the book, Silver Falls by Anne Stuart arrived today, I felt that I knew that name.  Flipping through the other work section, I realized that she's the author of the Ice series, which I love.  My favorite is Black Ice, probably because it was the first one I read.

So yay, yay me.  I am on a roll with the awesome books lately.  Tore through Mean Martin Manning, reread Snow Crash, and now Silver Falls.

OH!  Completely forgot.  I received the new paperback edition of The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Society in the mail two days ago through my old book club.  

Yay me!

Mean Martin Manning

Last week I just finished a fantastic, hysterically funny book, called "Mean Martin Manning."  Author Scott Stein has crafted a very real and relatable world in his novel about a man who just wants to be left alone to live his life the way he wants.

Martin Manning hasn’t left his apartment or had contact with another human being in thirty years. He’s happy eating his sandwiches, wearing his bathrobe, and watching TV. Martin is going to go on like this forever, alone, the proverbial immovable object.

Along comes Caseworker Alice Pitney, knocking on doors without apology. She’s an irresistible force starting a self-improvement program in Martin’s building, and won’t take no for an answer. If it takes a trial of absurd proportions and a ludicrous treatment program to make Martin into the man he could be and should have been, that’s just fine with Pitney.

Can Martin Manning stand up to Pitney, her thugs, Judge Sarnauer, and a host of others hell-bent on telling him what to do? He can. But to win this epic battle of wills, he’ll need to call on a lifetime of stubbornness and downright meanness, a patience rarely seen, and more than a little luck.

Mean Martin Manning sets its satirical sights on all manner of defenseless prey, including nanny state busybodies, sensitivity training, dog lovers, television talk shows, haircut licenses, aggressive doctors, political correctness, bloviating academics, demanding judges, and little tyrants everywhere. But not all is cynicism and bile. There’s also ample adoration for the joyous wonders of linoleum, preservatives, cold cuts, mayonnaise, frog figurines, bowel regularity, freedom, and sweet, sweet justice.

I wasn't quite sure if I was going to like this novel, but once I got into the story, the plot grabbed me and didn't let go. Martin, for all of his mean ways, is so relatable to anyone who lives in this day and age. Desiring to be left alone to enjoy his frogs and processed meats, all of that changes the day Alice Pitney knocks on Martin's front door. It seems several new laws have been passed while Martin has been shunning all human contact, allowing the state to decide what's 'best' for everyone. In Martin's case, Alice decides that what's best for him is no more processed meats, no more television, or clocks, or even the right to decide when the lights should be turned off.

Martin isn't taking this lightly though, and he's absolutely determined not to cave into Alice's demands. His creative ways of getting out of group-bonding events and other acts of sabotage left me laughing, but what really made me smile was what happened after Martin struck out on his own. His acts of revenge, and the final few paragraphs of the novel, had me smiling the whole time I was reading. I won't spoil the ending for you, but I will say that I should have seen it coming.

It's not all light-hearted reading though; there are a lot of serious issues inside this novel, several of which I've discussed previously with both "$everance" and "Junk." Zagorski and Martin both plan out acts of sabotage against the people in charge, although Zagorski is only fighting for his severance check; Martin is fighting for the right to wear a bathrobe if he wants to.

And just like in "Junk," there's a whole war on food going on, although this time it's not so much a general banning of things, but more of a centralized discrimination against the people that the state has decided can't make their own choices anymore. It's scary when you think that one day, someone in 'power' could decide that you no longer have the right to make your own choices anymore, that you aren't capable of deciding what foods to eat. "Junk" takes it farther, but still for Martin it's a fairly traumatic turning point.

If you're in the mood for a funny, sarcastic, well-plotted book with a side of social issues, I highly recommend "Mean Martin Manning."

Guests, the arrival of

So, with friends in town for the last week, I'm ashamed to admit that I haven't done nearly as much reading--or blogging--as I'd meant to.  Or through reading of the links I've posted below. That's on my to-do list, too.

The Future of Trade Publishing in the Digital Marketplace

The World's Foremost Consultant on the Future of Publishing

The Secret Behind Google's Book Scanning Project

The Tipping Point Has Finally Arrived for the Publishing Industry

Still, it's been beautiful here in Brooklyn and I really can't feel too guilty for getting out and enjoying the weather.

I have read the first two Dresden File books; Storm Front and Fools Moon.  Cute, light, easy.  I watched the series first, so I still picture Bob as a person, not just a skull with glowing orange eyes.

I also read The Lost Art of Keeping Secrets, by Eva Rice, which I first saw on Danielle's blog. Such a good story, with an interesting plot and great characters.  I wish I knew a Charlotte.  

I've started reading Mean Martin Manning; is it wrong that I always picture hermit men as Sean Connery these days?  Finding Forester had a lasting impression.

Oh.  The other thing that has been occupying my time these days.  Star Trek.

I have NO WORDS for how much I loved that movie.  Canon aside, it was awesome.  I need to see it again.  And then maybe one more time for good luck.

The Amadeus Net

The Amadeus Net by Mark Rayner was another book that I read recently (OK, two weeks ago, but c'mon, I've been busy) and really enjoyed, despite all of the questions it left me with.

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart walks into the sex change clinic, determined to have his “sprouter” snipped off. So begins The Amadeus Net, a satirical novel set in the year 2028, which explores art, love, and identity at the end of the world. For more than two centuries, the one-time wunderkind has kept his existence secret while he tried to understand his immortality. Living in style through funds raised by selling “lost” Mozart works, he has also helped to create Ipolis, a utopian city-state, after the cataclysmic Shudder, a global disaster caused by an asteroid strike in 2015.

But a few complications mar Mozart’s utopia. The woman he loves is a lesbian, which, paradoxically, makes him forget about his sex-change plans. The world’s greatest reporter knows he’s still alive and will stop at nothing to expose him. The stakes are higher than he knows, because if the reporter finds him, so will the spy planning to sell Mozart’s DNA to the highest bidder. Oh, and, by the way, the world might end in seven days. His only allies are a psychotic American artist, a bland Canadian diplomat, and the city itself: a sapient, thinking machine that is screwing up as only a sapient, thinking machine can.

I loved the premise of this novel--I have a thing for post-apocalyptic stories--and loved that the novel wasn't just from Mozart's point-of-view, but from all of the main characters, including One's.  Truthfully, I found One's point-of-view to be the most interesting.  It reminded me very much of the robots in I, Robot who take over to "protect" humanity from itself; One was very much like that, controlling what and who came into Ipolis, stopping information from being sent out (information that would have harmed Mozart), and trying to stop the war between the North (the haves) and the South (the have-nots).    

The other characters had compelling stories and I loved how many of their stories were wrapped around Mozart's.  We have Bella, the psychopathic artist, born after the Shudder who grew up with her survivalist father.  She's beautiful, twisted, insane, and completely devoted to her art.  There's Les, the boring Canadian diplomat with an obsession for Helen Printo, a self-serving investigative reporter who will stop at nothing to get a story.  She's "friendly" with Alex Burton, a cruel, former black-ops solider who is desperate to get the funds together for an upcoming trip into outer space.  He's got plans to sell Mozart to the highest bidder.  Oh, and we can't forget Katerina, the beautiful Czech woman Mozart has found himself in love with.  Did I mention she's a lesbian?  Or that she's half in love with Helen Printo, and half in lust with Bella?  

And it wasn't just the characters and their stories that I found so compelling, but the ideas that this novel incorporated into the story.  Like how do you define your worth in a society where money doesn't exist?  Or what is art, how is it defined, and how far should someone be allowed to go to produce?  And what about the idea of the truth at all costs?  I don't really think we want a transparent society, no matter how much we want the truth.  I haven't even touched on the idea of immortality (through living forever and through works of art) or artificial intelligence.  Honestly, the idea of AIs scares me.  I don't want one thing, one intelligent computer running my life, not ever.  

The Amadeus Net was a very thought-provoking novel and I'm looking forward to my rereading of it this summer.  There was so much to take in, I'm sure I missed something.  And I still haven't made up my mind about the ending; it's kind of left up in the air.

Or is it?

ETA:

Flash Me Magazine has a review of The Amadeus Net up as well, although you have to be a subscriber to actually read the whole thing.  I did manage to see a clip of the review though and the reviewer agreed with me:

"Strange? Yes. Implausible? No, because Rayner successfully crafts an inherent logic into his surreal story with a collage of plausible first person narratives, which includes the first person “thinking machine” narrative of the actual setting of the story—the post-apocalyptic, utopian city-state of Ipolis, which is located in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.

Furthermore, Rayner’s flair for sustained humor, and compelling story telling enhances the preposterous premises, characterizations, and worthy themes of art, love, and the search for self-identity and sex in the day-to-day existence of an eclectic cast of characters making their way through the end of the world."

--Janet Paszkowski, Flash Me Magazine (April, 2009)

Oh la la

--Via Bookshelves of Doom: The French, specifically girls aged thirteen to sixteen, have fallen in love with Emily Bronte.  No wait, to be specific, they've been bitten by the Bronte bug.

Oh Twilight, why can't I quit you?  Seriously.

--An internet-age writing course I'd love to take: McSweeny for the win.

And now to sleep.  It's been an exhausting, sun-filled day.