The Terrible Axe-Man of New Orleans: ATreasury of XXth Century Murder, #3 -- Rick Geary

I love comic books.  I love unsolved mysteries¹.

So it was a good bet that Rick Geary's The Terrible Axe-Man of New Orleans would be right up my alley.

Hoo boy, was it!  I'm going to have to get the first two in the series now, as well as his series about murders in the Victorian Era.  Because I'm in love.

What They Always Tell Us by Martin Wilson

What They Always Tell Us by Martin Wilson
"Thoughtful and moving, What they Always Tell Us is a powerful debut novel about the bond between two brothers—and the year that changes everything.

JAMES: Popular, smart, and athletic, James seems to have it all. But the only thing James really wants is his college acceptance letter, so he can get far away from Alabama. In a town where secrets are hard to keep, everyone knows what Alex did at the annual back-to-school party. The only question is why.

ALEX: With his friends no longer talking to him and his brother constantly in motion, Alex is prepared to get through junior year on his own. And he would, if his ten-year-old neighbor, Henry, didn't keep showing up, looking for company. What Alex cares most about is running, and when he's encouraged to try out for cross-country, he's surprised to find more than just a supportive teammate in his brother's friend Nathen."- summary from Martin Wilson's website

This book was a refreshing read after all the fast-paced, quick adventures I'd been reading. Wilson's debut is more character-based than plot-based and, because of that, is quieter than a lot of books out there right now. It's a fantastically written debut that goes back and forth between two brothers over the course of a year and the change that comes over them during that time. It was a bit weird reading in third person, even though I've gotten used to it; for some reason, it just didn't feel right to me sometimes.

Being a gay man, I found myself wanting more of Alex's chapters and less of James' which I know is very selfish. I did enjoy James' story but Alex's rang more true to me and so I identified with it more. The romance in his part was just very swoon-worthy in my mind and I want my own Nathen now. It was nice to read a book that didn't have a lot of angst associated with the main character realizing he's gay. Alex just accepted it and moved on, much like how I did, though I didn't have a hot guy to help me figure it out.

Wilson spends a lot of time making his characters fully three-dimensional and he did a great job of conveying a lot of emotions subtly. Like I said before, it's a very quiet book and it's one that you want to just curl up and spend your time with.

One character that's a constant between the two stories is a young boy named Henry and there's a whole sub-plot mystery going on with him which was fun to read. He was a great inclusion into the book because he befriended both of the brothers and helped them change over the year. I don't know, I just really liked his character- very smart and perceptive.

Overall, a wonderful, coming-of-age debut that makes me eager to read more of Wilson's writing.

The Goon: Chinatown and the Mystery of Mr. Wicker

If you don't already know who the Goon is, you will soon enough. Post Comic-Con 2010 the buzz is already building for the David Fincher-produced (and richly computer animated) Goon movie. And from the looks of the trailer, it's going to be a faithful translation of this singularly bizarre comic book.

Explaining The Goon is not the easiest task around. Writer/artist Eric Powell has taken pieces of multiple genres and combined them into something far greater than the sum of its parts. Think 30s-era gangster films crossed with H.P. Lovecraft-inspired monsters, zombies and a heavy dose of circus angst and you'll just begin to scratch the surface of what The Goon entails. The character of the Goon is just as complex as his namesake book. He's a heavy drinking mob boss/enforcer all rolled into one who travels throughout a mythical cityscape, eliminating those who dare cross his path. Along for the ride is Goon's sidekick Frankie, whose blank, totally white eyes should remind even a casual reader of the characters in Little Orphan Annie.

Most of the collected volumes of The Goon comics are self-contained stories. By its very nature, The Goon is episodic and piecemeal, something of an homage to its varied source material. And up until recently, the character of the Goon, while fun and interesting, has not had significant depth. That is, until Chinatown and the Mystery of Mr. Wicker.

This completely self-contained story does not require that you know anything about the Goon or his menagerie of characters, so it's the perfect first read for a Goon-newbie. Beyond that simple fact, it's one of Eric Powell's most emotionally compelling works, opening doors of insight into the Goon's character and motivations. Beneath his simple, brutal and cartoonish appearance, the Goon has a heart, and it is that heart that is explored in tragic detail in this graphic novel. It's still fun, as all Goon stories tend to be, and there's still plenty of action, but underneath the violence lies a truly heartbreaking story. For me, it's Powell's best work. Read it. Telling you any more would spoil the experience.

Bad Kids

Lily, Noah and Simon are "bad kids." Or they think of themselves that way, and try to promote that impression of themselves. They smoke cigarettes and pot. They attend parties and partake in underage drinking. Noah is a dealer. The three of them are best friends, and spend much of their time "hanging out," getting high, listening to music, skipping class.

Sailing through Michael Crichton's Pirate Latitudes

After my recent dire experience with The Island, Peter Benchley's 1979 pirate adventure (see my post here), I was leery of another "best-selling" author tackling the same subject. I was doubly leery when that author was the late Michael Crichton, a writer whose brilliant and innovative ideas are invariably balanced by a nonexistent sense of pacing, characterization and style.

Ghostopolis by Doug TenNapel

When a young boy named Garth Hale accidentally gets transported to the afterlife, a ghostcatcher must retrieve him - with the help of his ex-fiancee, who just so happens to be a ghost. From Doug TenNapel, the creator of Earthworm Jim, this is Ghostopolis.

I went into this full-color graphic novel thinking it might been good for comic book enthusiasts who enjoyed films like Beetlejuice and Ghostbusters, and I was right. I must say, though, that I wanted more information about Garth's condition (it is revealed early in the volume that he has an incurable disease, which is never named) and the powers he later acquires. I'm all for finding the inner strength you never knew you had as well as developing superpowers; I just want to know more about the earning and acquisition.

Since this book was published through Scholastic's Graphix imprint, I thought the target audience would be kids, but I think that the storyline between Frank Gallows and Claire Voyant, the aptly-named ghost hunter and his hauntingly beautiful ex-fiance, will attract adult readers as well. More folks will certainly seek out this graphic novel when the movie version of Ghostopolis - which producer Hugh Jackman will star in - comes out.

For another story about a living kid who accidentally gets into the land of the dead, check out the May Bird Trilogy by Jodi Lynn Anderson - and adults seeking the same simply must try The Ferryman by Christopher Golden, an amazing story about a woman who crosses paths with Charon.

MindBlind by Jennifer Roy

There are lots of books these days written from the point of view of an Aspie. (That's someone with Asperger's Syndrome, like myself.)

The most famous is the mega-seller "The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time" and this year brings the moving "Mockingbird," about an Aspie dealing with the murder of her brother.

I recently read another Aspie-narrated book, "MindBlind," which is a little different than either of the above. While it does cover some big moments in a young guy's life, it's more of a slice-of-life story. This gives the reader a chance to experience regular, everyday stuff as filtered through a very different brain.

Whale Talk by Chris Crutcher

Sometimes it takes more than one book to figure out what the fuss is about. You know, when you read your first novel in a certain genre or subgenre, or by a particular author, and you enjoyed it, but haven't been converted into a fan. Then one or two or three books later, you stumble across the book that makes the proverbial lightbulb click on and you finally understand what the big deal is.

I'd read a couple of Chris Crutcher books before and liked them well enough, but (and this may be heresy for a YA librarian) I didn't think they were all that amazing. Then I read Whale Talk and said, "Oh, so that's why people are such big Chris Crutcher fans."

So, Whale Talk.

Cutter High School is obsessed with sports. Which is one of the reasons T. J. Jones sticks out. T. J. (full legal name: The Tao Jones), adopted as a child by white parents, is "black. And Japanese. And white. Politically correct would be African-American, Japanese-American, and what? Northern-European American?" (Though you can't exactly tell from the book cover.) He's one of the few people of color in town and one of the best athletes in school, even though he refuses to join any of its sports teams.

I Burn with Life: The Coming of Conan the Cimmerian

Quick quiz, readers: Who wrote or said these great lines of wisdom?

Let me live deep while I live; let me know the rich juices of red meat and stinging wine on my palate, the hot embrace of white arms, the mad exultation of battle when the blue blades flame and crimson, and I am content.

Shakespeare? Byron? Thoreau? Here's a little more, in case it helps.

If life is an illusion, then I am no less an illusion, and being thus, the illusion is real to me. I live, I burn with life, I love, I slay, and am content.

Give up? That's Conan, often called "Conan the Barbarian" by comic book writers and schlock movie makers, as he was written in the original short stories by Robert E. Howard.

Starting in 1929, long before anyone had ever heard of J.R.R. Tolkien, pulp writers like Clark Ashton Smith, Fritz Leiber, and Robert E. Howard were writing stories set in far away times and places, often modeled on myths and folklore, usually with low technology and high adventure. These tales have come to be called "Sword and Sorcery," and their popularity has grown and shrunk and grown again with the varying tastes of the decades since.

Conan was one of the first and he's still one of the best, and if you love stories of adventure and discovery, you should certainly look for The Coming of Conan the Cimmerian.

(This is a preferred edition, untainted by later "editors" and "collaborators.")

In the thirteen stories of this book, we're introduced to a rangy, clever, and philosophical Conan. Part Indiana Jones and part Klingon, part Byron and part Odysseus, Conan uses the full range of his abilities in these early adventures -- everything from sneaking to swordsmanship -- as he rises from an orphaned thief to a proud warrior.

In "The God in the Bowl," Conan's thievery places him at the center of a murder investigation, one with an unlikely and terrifying culprit. In "The Tower of the Elephant," Conan frees a creature from the sorcerer Yara and learns about the early origins of magic in his world. In my favorite, "Queen of the Black Coast," Conan falls in love with a pirate queen and helps her raid an ancient city, fabled to be deadly -- and he is saved only by a surprising intervention.

These are stories infused with dark and terrifying magic, the kind that will eventually devour you alive. You will feel grit in your sandals, sweat in your eyes, and aches in your bones from long travels and desperate battles. There's something real and true in Howard's stories, and the movies and comic books tend to get it wrong. Or at least not get it all.

They're somehow primitive and sophisticated at the same time, full of grand pronouncements and dramatic ideas...but also laden with some silly ones about race and gender endemic to the times in which they were written. But at their core, these tales are about the collision of culture and ideals, so you'll be fighting that battle much as Conan does.

If you think you know sword and sorcery -- if you think you know Conan -- you're wrong until you've read these stories.

I Was a Teenage Cthulhu Worshiper

“Then in the shadowy solitude my longing for light grew so frantic that I could rest no more, and I lifted entreating hands to the single black ruined tower that reached above the forest into the unknown outer sky. And at last I resolved to scale that tower, fall though I might; since it were better to glimpse the sky and perish, than to live without ever beholding day.”

H.P. Lovecraft, “The Outsider”

Introduced to Lovecraft’s stories in my sophomore year of high school, I was immediately pulled in by his beautiful, brutal visions. At the same time, along with peppering English essays with words like “ichor” and “Stygian”, I was sneaking out of the house to tear along the back roads with Chad and Billy. One night, we went out to the river and got drunk on stolen beers. I fell for a girl who’d eventually break my heart. Jessica, whom I’d only though of as a friend before, helped me put the pieces back together.

Back then, I didn’t think those weird old stories had much to do with my first unsteady steps toward adulthood. Looking back, though, I see the connection between adolescence and Lovecraft’s vast, incomprehensible universe.