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It was a near thing, this. I almost didn’t have a book to review this week. I wanted an America-themed book since we just had Independence Day here in the USA. But until this past Monday, I couldn’t find anything short enough that I would have any hope of reviewing in time.

To the rescue rode Zachary Shatzer, on a horse that was white, but also red and blue. Or something like that. But you all know by now that I always love to read a Shatzer book, and when I saw his latest was a parody of political thrillers, a genre near and dear to me, you can well imagine my delight.

Puppet Dance features all the tropes we expect of thrillers: conspiracies, assassins, double-crosses and backstabbing. Except instead of being done seriously, it’s played for laughs. The president is a simpleton elected solely for his good looks. The vice-president has to juggle his Machiavellian plans for world domination with mending his relationship with his goth teenage daughter. And the assassin, who prides himself as a ruthless and efficient killing machine, is actually a bit of a bumbling buffoon; for example, when he drops his rifle and ammunition on the way to prepare for a job, and his forced to eat one of the bullets to conceal it from bystanders.

The plot is basically a power struggle between aforementioned vice-president and the director of the CIA, both of whom are vying to be the true power behind the throne of the empty-headed president. The only person capable of saving America–indeed, seemingly the only person capable of doing anything well–is Agent Dennings of the Secret Service, who saves the VP’s life at a hopscotch convention.

From there, it’s off into a madcap labyrinth of whimsy and silliness as only Shatzer can deliver. I could try to summarize it all, but really, the whole point of the thing is the humorous way the story is told.

Which is not to say there isn’t a deeper reading that can be made. What are literary critics for, if not to systematically suck the joy out of any work of fiction by imagining things in it that the author never intended? This, dear readers, is my speciality.

You can read a fairly scathing critique of 21st-century culture in the works of Shatzer. For example, the way Vice President Beanstar slowly builds a coalition of supporters by pandering to fans of various activities, celebrities, franchises and the like, could be read as a comment on consumerism; as people who fanatically (and remember always the word “fan” is short for “fanatic”) build their entire identity around some piece of pop ephemera are easily manipulated to advance the goals of a malevolent politician.

Or again, when Agent Dennings goes undercover as a television star, but the effort fails because people have so thoroughly conflated the actress with the character she portrays that they are unwilling to even speak to her. Much of Shatzer’s humor is derived from characters who have completely dedicated themselves to raising trivial issues to the level of zealous idolatry. Something that will be familiar to anyone who has ever been on the internet.

These are interesting themes, and no doubt a healthy corpus of literary criticism could be derived from them. However, that would just miss out on the real fun of Shatzer, which is basically that in his world, even the villains are basically good, if rather eccentric, and everything can always be resolved in a pleasingly amusing fashion.

Shatzer, like Wodehouse, is fundamentally optimistic, and this shows through in all his works. Even when he is making fun of something, you can always sense the affection at the heart of it. So, in these troubled times, when one can be forgiven for checking a little anxiously, and a little more frequently than usual, whether that star-spangled banner does indeed yet wave o’er the land of the free and the home of the brave, I think I’ll give the last word to Shatzer. Or rather, to Agent Dennings, the embodiment of humble competence in a world run by madmen, narcissists, and criminals:

It was a strange thing, she mused, that America could manage to be such a wonderful place when led by people like this. And it was wonderful, she had no doubts about that. The ideas on which it was based: freedom, equality, and opportunity, though never fully and perfectly realized, had also never been crushed by the ceaseless parade of corruption, morons, and corrupt morons at the highest levels of power. An incredible feat, when you thought about it. 

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You know I don’t often review non-fiction books. What am I supposed to say? “This guy’s life should have been different to be more dramatic.” But sometimes I read a non-fiction book that’s just so good, I can’t resist.

Remember when the Napoleon movie came out, and people were like, “it’s not accurate,” and Ridley Scott was like, “Were you there, bro?” Well, Captain Blaze was there! Admittedly, he wasn’t at the big battles, such as Austerlitz, Borodino, or Waterloo. But he was wounded at Wagram, and took part in many Napoleonic campaigns in Poland, Germany and Spain. As such, he is in a position to speak with authority on these matters.

Not that he purports to be telling us an authoritative history of the period. No, Captain Blaze’s manner is much more casual and friendly, as he tells interesting stories of things that happened to him throughout his military career. The feeling is rather like you’re sitting at a bar, knocking back a few with him while listening to his war stories.

This is how I like to learn history. It’s not random lists of names and dates; it’s things that happened to real people. Captain Blaze is witty, human and relatable. Well, mostly. He does have a few old-fashioned attitudes towards some groups that may strike some readers as offensive. But when we study the past–or at least when I do–I want to study the whole past; even the ugly parts. No sense in sugarcoating it.

Still, for the most part, Blaze is actually quite likable and self-deprecating, as when he says that the best battle he was ever in was one that he was able to observe through a telescope from the safety of a church steeple. It was the “best” in his view, because he was out of harm’s way.

Most interesting are Blaze’s insights into human nature. He has little use for people claiming that the French soldier was inspired by love for the emperor. While Blaze has a certain admiration for Napoleon, he makes no bones about why they fought:

“How often has it been asserted in print that the soldiers fought for the emperor! This is another of those current phrases, which many people have taken up and repeated without knowing why. The soldiers fought for themselves, to defend themselves; because in France, a man never hesitates when he sees danger on one side and infamy on the other…

…show them the Prussians, the Russians, or the Austrians, and whether they are commanded by Napoleon, Charles X, or Louis Philippe, you may be sure that French soldiers will do their duty.” 

But again, he respects Napoleon. Or rather, he respects General Bonaparte. His victories early in his career are what Blaze values most highly, for as he reasons:

“The glory of Bonaparte will never be eclipsed by that of Napoleon; for the means of the emperor were more vast than ever general had at his disposal. When a ruler drains a country like France of her last man and her last crown, when he renders an account to no one, it is not surprising that, with a well-organized head, he should accomplish great things; the contrary would be much more astonishing.”

I’ve really just scratched the surface here. I could go on quoting passages from this book for a very long time. Capt. Blaze is insightful, clever, and, above all else, very funny. Yes, while he never shies away from the horror and tragedy of war, he also has a knack for recounting humorous incidents he witnessed or was told about. He makes a jolly guide to what must have been a rather grim time.

Of course, not being able to read French, I’m going by the translation. I also was unable to find much more information about Captain Blaze, and I was obliged to use a Google-translated version of his French Wikipedia page. Apparently, he went on to a career in writing after his military service. Quite an interesting fellow.

Dear readers, we live in a strange and unsettled world. Last week, a controversy broke out over edits on the Star Wars wiki to a page about a minor character, to bring them into line with something that happens in one of the innumerable new Star Wars productions. It escalated to death threats. As Dave Barry would say, “I am not making this up.”

My purpose here is not to relitigate Star Wars-related controversies. There are no good guys in Wookiepedia edit wars. But what has this world come to, when people care more about the biographies of fictional aliens than real people who actually existed? Maybe once Captain Blaze has an English-language wiki, and a few of his other published works are available online, then we can worry about what is considered “canon” in a fictional universe. Or, better yet, not.

This powerful electronic network we’re using houses vast repositories of human knowledge. Yet we ignore that and use it instead in the pursuit of the most trivial inanities. People are always prone to recency bias, but c’mon; this is pathetic. This is worse than destroying the Library of Alexandria. At least the Romans were in a war. What’s our excuse?

Oh, well. Let me quote once more from Blaze himself, from a bit later on in the book. To set the scene a bit, he has been talking about the tendency of people to romanticize war and soldiers after the fact, exaggerating the dashing and adventurous element far beyond what existed before peace came.

“I was talking one day on this subject with a publisher of lithographic prints, and was beginning to prove what I am here advancing. ‘You preach to one who is already converted,” said he at the first word: ‘I am well aware that all this is not true, but such things sell. In trade, “such things sell” is an unanswerable argument…'”

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I like it when a book ties two eras together. What’s better than a mystery? A mystery that spans generations, that’s what! And that is what the latest Brad and Karen thriller from Geoffrey Cooper delivers.

The story begins with a plan to plant a Nazi spy in the U.S. in the waning days of World War II. His mission is to act as a sleeper agent; establishing himself as seemingly an ordinary citizen and then, using his knowledge of chemistry and biology, gaining access to American laboratories and beginning work on a Nazi genetic warfare program.

It’s an ambitious plan, the kind that takes patience and commitment to unfold. It also reminded me a little of the sort of Nazi plots that Wonder Woman would have to foil week in and week out on the classic TV show.

Well, Brad and Karen are the next best thing when it comes to unraveling such plots! The book flashes forward to the present day, where the medical researcher and the veteran investigator are notified of a lead from a retired FBI agent who has picked up the trail of the scheme hatched in the 1940s.

Not that there’s much to go on. The Nazi sleeper cell hasn’t left many clues, but from the bits and pieces available, they begin to put things together. Combined with the flashbacks that fill in the details for the reader, we start to learn the full extent of the conspiracy. Not to spoil too much, but let’s just say that even though Nazi Germany is long gone, the operation hasn’t stopped.

Fans of Brad and Karen’s past adventures will enjoy the familiar dynamic between the two. Fans of historical fiction will enjoy the decades-spanning plot that sees the Nazi plan evolve across the eras. There’s plenty here for long-time readers of the series and newcomers alike. I know that in the past I’ve sometimes alluded to having “World War II fatigue” after having read so many books and seen so many films set in that period. But I made an exception to that for this book, and I’m glad I did. Cooper delivers another enjoyable yarn, with some interesting scientific info artfully woven into it as usual.

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I picked up this book a long time ago because I was writing something that involved a casino, and I thought it would be a good idea to read a book set in one. I wasn’t even sure what genre it would be.

As it turns out, it’s mostly romance, but with elements of crime/thriller involved as well. It tells the story of a woman named Caroline Popov, who has just been promoted to be manager of the Night Hawk casino. Working in a casino is, as it turns out, no walk in the park. Obi-Wan Kenobi’s line about Mos Eisley comes to mind. And Caroline’s job is, day after day, dealing with the lowlifes and criminals who come there–some of whom are even employed there.

That said, there are some good people in the business, too. Like her staunchest friend, the tribal leader John Tovar, who helps her through the tough times. And, as we gradually learn over the course of the book, Caroline has had her share of those. She thought she was living the American dream, only to have it snatched away from her suddenly.

She manages to remake herself and carve out a successful career, though not without echoes of her past still haunting her. More immediately, she’s also haunted by assorted enemies she makes in the course of her work at the casino.

I won’t spoil what happens, but let’s just say that while it’s not exactly breaking new ground or providing totally unexpected twists, it is an entertaining story. If you enjoy romance or thrillers, this should be a fun way to spend a few hours.

Now, I like romance and thrillers just fine, but as I said, the reason I picked this book up was for the casino setting. So how does it fare on that front?

Quite well. The author mentions in the afterword that she worked in casinos, and that experience translates well here. Casino terms, policies and procedures are all described in fairly close detail, including the methods they use to catch those trying to cheat the casino. Remember: the casino is there to cheat the players, not the other way around!

I admit to being fascinated by casinos; and not in a good way. I think it started when I visited Niagara Falls. (“Slowly I turned, step by step…“) I went to a restaurant there that was located in a casino on the Canadian side, and I still remember being amazed at the vacant-eyed people pulling levers on gaudy slot machines when one of the most beautiful natural wonders on Earth was literally just outside. It was almost disturbing, frankly. But clearly, something about this process was mesmerizing to these folks. I think that experience gave me a visceral dislike for casinos, and yet, as with the proverbial train wreck, it’s hard to look away.

It doesn’t help that everything is being slowly turned into a casino these days, thanks to “gamification,” which looks like a word Raymond Chandler would use for a leggy femme fatale, but actually refers to a managerial concept that has gradually transformed everyday life into a web of Skinner boxes which present the user with simulacra of choice, interactivity, and rewards. By the way, be sure and like this post! And share it with all your friends!

Anyway, I can’t deny that part of me was quite interested to read about all the shady behind-the-scenes stuff that goes down in the gambling industry, and this book certainly provided a wealth of insight. It might even help to cure gambling addiction… but I wouldn’t, ah, bet on it.

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This is a Weird Western. No, I’m sorry; let me start over.

This is a WEIRD Western. It’s not just a case of a basic western with a few ghosts or werewolves shoehorned in. No, it’s seriously bizarre. It starts out normally enough with the hero, Marshal Elias Faust, being asked by a local drunk to retrieve something a couple of thugs stole from him. What it was, he won’t say, but Faust heads off to find the two lowlifes, known as the Gregdon boys.

What begins as a typical Wild West gunfight ends up taking Faust on a mind-bending and horrifying trip into the depths of cosmic nightmare. We’ve got a woman made of gold appearing from the stars, a hellish netherworld buried in the mines beneath a harsh frontier town, and, perhaps most notably, demonic sand-filled scarecrow spirits with rifles.

It’s a lot for the poor lawman to deal with. Fortunately, he has a few people backing him up, such as Grady Cicero, a Shakespearean actor who is a crack shot with a Henry rifle, and Lachrimé Garland, who has managed enough boxing matches that she’s usually able to give Faust some good pep talks after he gets into fights, which happens a lot.

This book is violent, befitting a western. Shootouts, chases, and knock-down, drag-out fistfights are the order of the day, and Faust never shies away from combat, even when he is dragged down to the unfathomable shores of some Boschian hellscape.

I was about to say this book does a good job of mixing western action with Lovecraftian horror. But I had to stop myself, because while it is easy to reflexively label any kind of cosmic horror as being in the manner of HPL, that would be misleading. Lovecraft’s protagonists are scholarly, bookish fellows, who summon occult horrors by reading some dusty old tome when they shouldn’t.

No, Elias Faust is in the mold of a Robert E. Howard hero: he’s tough, rough, and mean. He solves things with his fists and his guns. The setting, too, is reminiscent of Howard: a near-lawless wasteland, ruled by greed, violence, and the occasional eldritch abomination.

The writing is both witty and brutal, with Faust’s gallows humor often making the unrelenting fight scenes a little snappier. At times, the bloody battles can be so visceral as to be exhausting to read, but Faust’s narration always keeps them interesting, and it makes you want to stick with him to the end as he slowly uncovers the horrors at the heart of the web spun by a malevolent entity known as “the Magnate.”

It’s a harrowing, pulse-pounding, spine-chilling, and occasionally darkly funny ride into stygian abysses of madness and mayhem. If you like the Weird West genre, I can pretty much guarantee you’ll love this.

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I heard about this book thanks to Carrie Rubin, and it sounded like something I would enjoy. It has conspiracies, high-tech gadgetry, and exciting action sequences.

Journalist Ellie McLane is investigating genetically modified Olympic athletes. But when she learns that a mysterious group has cloned the President of the United States, she moves to get the scoop before anyone else.

What follows is a complex plot, as McLane and the FBI race to find out what connection there is between the president’s clone and bio-terrorists who are using genetically modified cancer cells to infect prominent politicians. Naturally, there are plenty of car chases and shootouts, not to mention corporate espionage, murder, and political conflicts.

I enjoyed the story very much. It reminded me of Geoffrey Cooper’s books, with maybe a bit more of a Tom Clancy-ish military element. My only complaint is that the ending felt a bit abrupt, but I see that it is the first book in a series, so perhaps many of the questions raised at the end will be addressed in the sequel.

The downside of reviewing thrillers is that spoilers are a real killer, so I can’t say too much more about what happens. This is pretty much the maximum amount I can reveal without spoiling it. So if this description strikes your fancy, give it a try.

Yet, I feel that you, my loyal reader, deserve some bonus content. So, for fun, I decided to run this post through WordPress’s AI assistant feature.

The AI assistant recommended I retitle the post: “Genetically Modified Bio-Terror: A Thrilling Race Against Time”. Eh, it’s okay, I guess, but I’ll stick with my standard format.

Next, I asked the AI assistant for feedback on the body of the review:

The content delved into the plot and the reviewer’s enjoyment of the book. The reviewer expressed a positive overall sentiment and mentioned a minor issue with the ending feeling abrupt. It was noted that spoilers couldn’t be shared, limiting the amount of detail that could be provided. Lastly, the reviewer mentioned adding bonus content for the readers and responded to a suggestion from a WordPress AI assistant.

Considering the feedback, actions to consider are:

1. Discuss the abrupt ending in more detail without revealing spoilers.

2. Add more specific details about what made the book enjoyable without giving away the plot.

3. Explore the bonus content in more depth to engage readers further.

When I was a kid, my friend had a toy called a “Bop It!” It was basically like a Simon Says game that commanded you to do various things. If you were unsuccessful, it would say, “Do it again, but, uh… better.” That’s kind of what this feels like.

The AI can also generate an image to go with the post based on the text. I tried this a couple times, and I have to say, the pictures are not bad. But I’m not posting them because I want the image associated with the post to be this book cover.

Well, that was certainly illuminating. Soon, we will achieve the ultimate dream of machines reviewing and creating art, freeing humans up to do manual labor or else just be directly converted into energy.

In the meantime, though, I hope you enjoy Fear Extinction!

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I love vigilante stories. I’m always down to read about a jaded person who, disgusted by the failure of social institutions to punish wrongdoers, takes the law into their own hands to seek retribution. You see this theme a lot in westerns and police stories, but one with a medical theme? Now, that’s something new!

Dr. Hope Sullivan is just one such jaded person, and her method of exacting justice is to kidnap the lowlifes she finds in the world, take them to a remote and secluded shed, and subject them to the same pains they have inflicted on others. “Her object all sublime, she will achieve in time…” Not that she kills them, to be clear. She just… teaches them a lesson, that’s all.

But one day, she gets a threatening message. Someone is stalking her, seeking revenge of their own against her for some perceived wrong. And this person has stumbled on to Hope’s extra-judicial activities. Oh, all right, I’ll just go ahead and call them what they are: torture sessions. Something which the medical board would probably not look kindly upon, and while Hope has suffered from suicidal thoughts ever since the recent deaths of her parents and fiancé, her reputation as a doctor is the one thing in the world that still keeps her going.

In other words, this book is rather dark, in case you couldn’t tell from the cover. It makes Fatal Rounds, Rubin’s most recent thriller, look like an after-school special. But it is similar to Fatal Rounds in the sense that the protagonists, while sympathetic, are also very well aware of what happens when you gaze long into the abyss. Actually, Hope and the abyss do more than just gaze into each other; they’re so well-acquainted they practically give each other high-fives every morning.

I’m writing this review shortly after editing a forthcoming Writers Supporting Writers chat where we discuss whether it’s necessary for characters to suffer. Well, of course, it depends on the type of story being told. But this is definitely the kind where there has to be a lot of suffering. I think it’s the most violent book I’ve read since Peter Martuneac’s His Name Was Zach series. And there is no doubt that every bit of it is key to Broken Hope‘s mood. It’s about capturing anger, depression, resentment and revenge; feelings which all of us must have at one time or another. Obviously, Hope’s reaction is rather extreme… but then, that’s what makes for compelling fiction, isn’t it?

Broken Hope goes to some dark places, but that darkness is also what makes it such a gripping story. Highly recommended for fans of psychological thrillers.

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This book has an ideal premise for a military sci-fi adventure: a hotheaded and impulsive cyber racer named Ryan Fall runs afoul of the law. But, his talent for high-speed maneuvering leads the government to offer him a choice: serve in an advanced combat mech program, to fight against an alien invasion force.

With little choice, and his own adrenaline addiction and competitive nature driving him, Ryan accepts, and is soon mustered into military training. Naturally, his “rebel without a clue” attitude leads him into plenty of clashes with the authorities. But then, that’s partially why they wanted him: as an outsider, he’s willing to think outside the box, and challenge their assumptions. And that is something desperately needed against the inscrutable alien enemy that is threatening to attack.

I imagine any MilSciFi fan will need no further convincing to pick this up. But, just in case…

There are plenty of exciting action sequences in this book, from the early racing scenes to the huge mech battle in the final sequence. On that basis alone, the book certainly earns its military sci-fi name. But what really makes the book are its characters, especially the supporting cast. I confess that Ryan himself was not my favorite; I tend not to like characters who are reflexively disobedient. But, Ryan has his reasons. More on that shortly.

The characters I really did like were Ryan’s immediate superior, the distant Captain Eleanor Ryder, whose icy demeanor masks a past trauma and a desire for revenge. I also loved General Matthews, the stern but fair officer who takes the burden of leadership seriously, but never loses a fundamental affection for those under his command. Both of these characters were great, and I enjoyed all of their scenes. Especially when Matthews is holding forth on the burden of responsibility and being accountable for one’s actions.

Which brings me back to Ryan’s devil-may-care behavior. There’s a reason he acts like he does, and it’s so he can learn and grow over the course of the story. Since military sci-fi adventures are likely to be read by the same demographic as Ryan is in–thrill-seeking young people–there is a message in this story that’s important for folks in that group to learn. Not that most of them will, any more than does Ryan, who, no matter how many times he is told something, doesn’t learn it until he has to experience it for himself. Still, it’s commendable of the author to try.

This is exactly the kind of thing I like in military science-fiction: well-crafted action scenes with deeper themes woven into the story. Highly recommended to fans of the genre.

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I wasn’t sure what to expect from this book. Obviously, from the cover, I could see it was sci-fi, but what kind of sci-fi was it?

As it turns out, it’s a mystery story. Private investigator McCall Richter is hired to find a huge cache of stolen valuables. The valuables in this case being tons of maple syrup. I love the idea of maple syrup as a precious commodity.

Richter gets help solving the mystery from her android assistant, Scipio. Scipio has a logical mind and a taste for fine clothing. His general helpfulness coupled with an ever-so-slightly stuck-up personality reminded me a little of the droid in the old Star Wars: Galaxy of Fear books I used to read as a kid. I enjoyed the relationship between these two characters, and I really liked reading a mystery story that isn’t about solving a murder, but something more original.

Richter and Scipio’s investigation turns up another fun character: a wounded dog named “Junkyard” who is abandoned in a… well, you can probably guess. Junkyard’s canine desire to chew on things does not mesh well with Scipio’s love of fancy clothing. But they work it all out eventually.

Of course, there’s still a mystery to be solved, and after a few twists, it all gets sorted. I don’t want to say much more about the plot because, well, with novella-length mysteries, saying even a little can give too much away. But I certainly enjoyed the ride.

This book serves as an intro to a larger story featuring Richter, Scipio, and Junkyard, and it certainly did get me interested in reading more about the characters. The writing style is fun, fast-paced, and witty; making this perfect quick reading for fans of sci-fi and mysteries alike.

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Today’s post begins with a mea culpa to the author of this book, Mr. Litka. You see, I was meant to beta read this book in early March. Unfortunately, from March until last week, my day job took up a huge amount of time. Indeed, it began to turn itself into my night job as well, much to my chagrin.

And so, I only had time to read about a few pages per night. Which meant my “beta reading” became just regular reading, as Passage to Jarpara‘s release date came and went, with me still failing to finish it.

This is to my shame! I have failed in my duty. I have already given myself 20 demerits and forced me to run laps.

Now, the good news is that I did finally manage to finish Passage to Jarpara, and let me tell you, it is a wonderful story. I think it is my favorite of Litka’s Tropic Sea trilogy, and that is saying something. Taef Lang and his new wife first make a visit back to his home, where among other things, they hunker down with his family ride out to a heavy storm. (Fun fact: I read this part on a day when a major storm system was sweeping through my own neighborhood.)

After that, Taef, his wife, her sister, and her sister’s husband, set out on a trip for Jarpara, with Taef hoping to land a job at the university there. However, always seems to happen to Lt. Lang, nothing is ever straightforward. Indeed, if you’ve read the other Tropic Sea books, you may recall that Sella Raah believes Taef has a special talent, or maybe a curse, to always have interesting adventures in the vein of the fictional character from the novels he read in his youth, Zar Lada the explorer.

And speaking of Zar Lada, Taef gets to do what every reader of a beloved series dreams of: he meets the author of those books, and many other books as well. Anjer Lad joins the story late, but he might be my favorite character in the whole series. He’s a wise old writer who has traveled widely and written many stories based on his experiences. And he is on a journey to find a mysterious island, reputed to be haunted, that he had heard of in his youth.

I love Anjer, because in many ways his experience is the universal writers’ experience: he’s searching for The Story. The one that will capture all the magic and wonder of the world in words. And also like every writer, even after he’s had a truly remarkable experience to relate, he feels somehow… disappointed:

“You know, Taef, all my life it seems, I’ve been searching for something far out of our ordinary life. Island to island I have traveled looking to find more than the mere legend of the supernatural, the gods and demons, monsters and myths of the Islands. I’ve been content–well, almost content– to find just enough traces of them to use in my stories, and to keep on searching. […] And now I’ve actually found something that is truly extraordinary, out of not only everyday experience but unimagined. And you know what? As extraordinary as this is… I can’t help but feel somewhat let down.”

“I guess, if I look closely enough, all of this is based on known facts. Underneath all of this wonder, is the mundane. A logical, historical explanation. And that, I find, isn’t what I’m looking for.”

The curse of the writer! We want the magic, we want the transcendent! Always searching; never entirely satisfied, it seems. Anjer’s quest is the quest of all storytellers.

Anyway, Anjer’s qualms notwithstanding, there is plenty that is magical and extraordinary going on in this tale. It’s a fascinating blend of old-time seafaring adventure and science fiction. It has both pirates and robots in it. How many books can make that claim?

And yet, with all that, the dominant feeling it left me with is that of coziness. Litka is like Wodehouse in that his worlds always feel warm and welcoming, even when there are wars, storms, earthquakes, or possible supernatural monsters. Somehow, there is always a feeling of optimism underlying it all. A welcome relief to in a literary world full of darkness and cynicism.

It so happens that my mother is currently reading Litka’s The Girl on the Kerb after I recommended it. Talking about it with her has made me remember what an enjoyable ride it is, and again, while it is a story set against the backdrop of a mounting threat of war, it still manages to have a Wodehousian lightheartedness about it. I think it really boils down to the upbeat nature of Litka’s heroes. Like Taef Lang, Henri Hardy of Girl on the Kerb is a humble, loyal, and good-natured, and that makes the whole book feel like you’re listening to a fun yarn told by an old friend while the two of you sit down for a cup of tea.

Passage to Jarpara is another entry in Litka’s growing catalog of stories that feel as though they somehow came to us from a different, and much more pleasant, world. Come to think of it, perhaps Litka is Anjer Lad, a kindly teller of tales who just wants to be able to share a feeling of otherworldly awe with the rest of us. If so, he has certainly succeeded.