Scott's Brain Meat: Book Review

Showing posts with label Book Review. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Unwanted Books Review: Smart Guys

I've recently decided to start reading and review some of the less popular books on my online trade lists. Think of it as the Land of Misfit Books; titles that I don't seem to be able to give away, despite the instant access to millions of readers.

The first book I've chosen to showcase is the young adult romance novel Smart Guys. This book has been sitting on my trade list at PaperBackSwap.com since 2006 without a nibble, despite having had other books from the Crosswinds series requested. After awhile, that makes me curious enough to give it a read.

“Meet the Kids in Group Three.

Dave: He just wants to have a good time – and to get to know a certain girl better.

Taylor: Dave’s dream girl. She’d make Miss America look like a dog. The only trouble with Taylor is, she doesn’t know how to relax.

Benson: He could star in a nerd movie. Definitely the clumsy-genius sort.

Frieda: She’s cute but hyper, with a nonstop mouth. She’s also great at organizing – one guy in particular.

James: With his high-fashion clothes, he may look well-put-together, but he’s a real airhead until he gets in a lab.

Five special teens are spending the summer working on a top-secret project. Just how much trouble can they get into?”

Quite a bit, it turns out. Especially after they decide to look into the supposedly accidental death of their project’s original inventor, and suddenly find themselves knee-deep in a murder investigation and conspiracy reaching as high as their school’s administration, and quite possibly the US Military.

Smart Guys is a part of the shortly lived young adult Harlequin imprint Crosswinds, for which Carrie Lewis wrote a few novels, this being one of them. While it is admittedly a light and fun read with the romantic elements existing on a strictly After School Special level, there is no denying that it also bares a strong resemblance to the 1985 cult classic comedy Real Genius, which was loosely based on actual events at Caltech. Both feature recklessly fun-loving genius main characters that team up with a ragtag group of highly intelligent misfits to sabotage their institution’s insidious plans.

But the similarities don’t stop there. Some of the book’s plot twists and scenes are right out of the film, such as the after-hours pool party and the secret military project, and the characters of Dave and Frieda are almost identical to those played by Val Kilmer and Michelle Meyrink. Considering that the book was published in 1988, three years after Real Genius hit the screen, and it isn’t hard to guess where Lewis got her inspiration.

That isn’t to say the book isn’t good. Lewis has a very light and breezy style that makes the story breeze by, and the characters and dialog are much more inventive than the lame back-cover description. This is definitely the perfect Young Adult romance novel for someone looking for a Revenge of the Nerds without the adult humor. Just don’t be surprised if you experience déjà vu while reading it.

Thursday, July 16, 2009

Book Review: Still Life by Joy Fielding

With over twenty books under her belt, Joy Fielding is bound to improve with every novel, yet occasionally produce work that feels like it is a step backward to her faithful readers. Still Life: A Novel, while well-written in spite of a tricky Plot device, still manages to fall short of what Fielding fans have come to expect.

The gimmick of having the books narrator spend the majority of the novel non-communicative yet fully aware of her surroundings in a coma, attempting to solve her attempted murder and prevent a successful second go at it, seems intriguing and inventive at the start. It is.

But the longer you read, the more you begin to realize that you've heard this story before. There isn't much extraordinary material in the book to separate it from other variations on the same theme, including the ever popular "ghost attempting to solve own murder" yarn, no matter how well Fielding handles the self-imposed restrictions of the plot device. Add to that a few instances of non-essential back stories that serve little more purpose than running up the page count, and you can't help shake the feeling that, as competent and well-written Still Life might be, it might have been better served as a short story.

Much like the book's heroine, Still Life manages to exist somewhere between a dead bore and a living, breathing work. You may not hate it, but chances are you won't love it, either. Call it a mystery on life support.

Sunday, June 21, 2009

Book Review: Pain Killers by Jerry Stahl

I have a nasty habit of discovering excellent series in the middle. Very seldom am I lucky enough to read a novel with characters and situations that I thoroughly enjoy, and then later discover that they have been carried over into new novels. Instead, what often happens is that I find out a book I liked is from the middle (or sometimes end) of an excellent series, and I am forced to backtrack and collect the previous books.

Needless to say, I was not lucky enough to catch Manny Rupert, Jerry Stahl's flighty ex-cop drug addict turned private detective, in his first book, Plainclothes Naked. However, Pain Killers is only the second novel in a what will hopefully be a longer series.

Stahl's writing has always had an edge to it. Not surprising, considering that his real life exploits (as recounted in Permanent Midnight: A Memoir) have been a tad edgy themselves. But it isn't the edge that makes Stahl's writing so good. It is the way he manages to combine it with a dark humor that doesn't flinch at the ugliness unfolding around it. A drug addict ex-policeman posing as prison rehab counselor in order to investigate a possible ex-Nazi in hiding shouldn't be funny. But then Stahl throws lines at you like "If I were a pedophile, I'd paint kittens." He knows what shouldn't be funny, and he knows how to make you laugh at it.

Manny Rupert isn't the kind of hero you root for because he's one of the good guys. He's the guy you root for because, as depraved as he is, he's nowhere near as bad as the people he is surrounded by. Besides, at least he can see the humor of it all, as bitter as it may be. If you're like me, and prefer your leading man to be less than perfect, you'll definitely want to pick up a copy of Pain Killers.

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Book Review: Stuart - A Life Backwards by Alexander Masters

Cover of Stuart: A Life Backwards

Stuart, the focus of Alexander Masters' book, is as enigmatic and polarizing as real people tend to get. There is a reason that Masters introduces us to Stuart now, rather than beginning at the childhood that spawned this creature.

Stuart is akin to a horrific train wreck that you can not tear your eyes away from; he is scary and depressing, repulsive and untantalizing, yet somehow silumtaneously mesmerizing and endearing. You wouldn't want to share an elevator or a dark alley with this character, but you might somehow find yourself compelled to do so anyway. Not only to hear the outlandish tales of the chaos that Stuart has both wrought and endured, but for the occasionally glimpses of the wise and witty soul buried beneath layers of abuse, neglect, and self-loathing.

Masters takes the reader backwards through Stuart's life, exposing events as the occurred, then revealing events that laid the groundwork prior to them. Like an archeologist peeling back layer after layer of cultural sediment and fossilized civilizations, Masters removes the grimy layers of Stuart one anecdote at a time. By the time you reach the core of such a being, the young child faced with emotionally crippling systematic abuse, you can feel pity for the man's origins, but you still might not be able to bring yourself to forgive him for what that child has begun. That's probably how Stuart would like it.

Forwards or backwards, Stuart's life is an engrossing story worth reading. But reading it backwards, believe it or not, tends to make more sense.

Book Review: The Night of the Gun, by David Carr

Cover via Amazon

Autobiographical tales featuring survivors of drug addiction and substance abuse have always been popular. There is something intriguing about listening as someone describes hitting rock bottom, and then somehow managing to miraculously turn themselves around.

Of course, such books are so popular that one must sometimes wonder whether the facts have been embellished for the sole purpose of entertainment. The debacle surrounding A Million Little Pieces alerted the literary community to the dangers behind that. While biographies involve investigations on behalf of the author, autobiographies become suspect, as the possible motivations of the self-diarists make them unreliable witnesses at best.

This is where David Carr's book steps away from the rest of the pack. The Night of the Gun almost doesn't qualify as an autobiography. He remembers very little of what actually occurred during his days of drug abuse, and what he does remember is almost wholly unreliable. So, be an investigative reporter, he uses the skills on hand to delve into the mystery that is his own life.

This is where Carr's book leaves the others behind. He wanders through the down and out periods of his life with a grim curiosity that never lapses into self-pity or melodrama. He could be writing about somebody else entirely, and in some ways, he is. His style isn't emotionless; one would have to be truly cold and indifferent not to feel something while looking back on some of the things Carr did had had done to him. But there is a slight detachment from the source material that keeps his observations from becoming self-serving or, even worse, self-pitying. He not only makes no excuses for his own actions, he doesn't even understand some of them himself.

Carr's book will appeal to fans of similar books, such as Permanent Midnight, but don't expect a carbon copy of the format. If Carr's story doesn't appear to have the obviously uplifting ending or tone that you were expecting, that's because it wasn't meant to be that kind of book. Carr isn't telling us his story so we can learn from his mistakes. He exploring his own painful past, like probing the raw nerve beneath a sore tooth, because he just can't bring himself to leave it behind, at last not without knowing what it all must have appeared from the outside looking in.

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

21st Century Advertising for New Home Builders

The cover of Preston John’s book on 21st Century Advertising for New Home Builders features a digital representation of a house on a sleek new laptop, visually promising a book full of information on utilizing today’s technology to its fullest potential when selling homes in today’s marketplace.

What you’ll find inside, however, is a brief little refresher on the basics of marketing and advertising, the kind that you might find yourself subjected to at an overpriced motivational seminar. With its small novelty book dimensions, the book looks, feels, and reads like something you might receive in a goody bag at such an event.

The book opens with an eight page comparison of the housing market to buying eggs, and the level of usefulness never really rises above that. The selling of new homes is neatly broken down into “The 5M’s” (which I will not reveal out of courtesy to prospective readers), which are listed and explained in great detail, but with as little actual detail as possible.

All of the advice and information given is done so in the broadest of general terms. For example: the chapter titled “Questions & Answers” contains only three questions spend over six (little) pages, and the answers are overwhelmingly self-explanatory. “How should I handle TV advertising?” The answer given, of course, is that you should hire a professional advertiser.

The author urges new home builders to purchase and utilize the proper computer software to chart and analyze their market research, but makes no attempt to recommend any specific programs. The chapter dedicated “Online Advertising” does not site a single website. Not even willing to offer the proper documentation for the definition of “Market”, the author forgoes an actual dictionary and instead offers his own definition of what you might find “If you were to look it up in a very conservative dictionary.”

If you were to look up advice in a very informative book, you might actually find detailed examples and lists of sources for further research. Unfortunately, this isn’t that kind of book.

Monday, April 21, 2008

Book Review: Blood, Sweat & Tea by Tom Reynolds

With the popularity of Blogs on the rise, and the critical success of recent books and movies adapted from online journals, the number of Blogs reprinted into book form is increasing steadily. The rush to fill any growing market usually dictates quantity over quality, and this can often make it difficult to find the exceptional materials mixed in among the shelf-fillers. Blood, Sweat & Tea is one of those few excellent translations from the Internet to the book shelf, and is well worth the search.

The book launches straight into the daily diary entries from Tom Reynolds’ blog (randomreality.blogware.com/blog) without any real setup or introduction, and it is a credit to the clarity and honesty of his writing that this is not a setback to enjoying the book. No real explanation is needed beyond the blurb on the back cover.

Blood, Sweat & Tea is a collection of daily online diary entries by Reynolds concerning his experiences as an emergency medical technician working for the London Ambulance Service in East London. Reynolds’ recaps of his time on the job clearly illustrate the ups and downs that go with such a demanding yet unappreciated vocation. He shares it all: humorous stories of false alarms and bizarre incidents, nerve-wracking brushes with the potential hazards of the job (such as the risk of exposure to HIV infected patients), frustrations concerning the politics and red tape behind the scenes of the medical services, and the emotional toll of dealing with life and death on a daily basis.

Never overly preachy, snarky, or flippant, Blood, Sweat & Tea is a tour through the trenches of on-site medical response units in the UK that will entertain and inform any and all interested in the topic.

Friday, March 21, 2008

Book Review: Orpheus in the Bronx by Reginald Shepherd

Having never heard of Reginald Shepherd before picking up Orpheus in the Bronx, I was expecting nothing more than a collection of poems interspersed with dry musings on poetry and life. What I found myself immediately engrossed in, however, was a rich examination of the life and mind of a bold and unflinching artist.

In this collection of essays, Shepherd not only shares his thoughts on other poets and poetic forms; he also examines the personal influences on his own creative output. Partly autobiographical in nature, the book delves into the author’s struggles as a child growing up in the ghetto, but existing and surviving as a gay black man as well. His recollections are both stark and poignant, and give the reader a better understanding of the poet’s soul.

While knowing and understanding poetry will make certain sections of this book much more enjoyable, there is plenty of philosophy, civil/cultural debate, and insightful reflection to draw in intelligent readers of all creative backgrounds.

Thursday, March 20, 2008

Book Review: The Jerusalem Diet

Diet books tend to fall into two major categories: those truly designed to help people, and those shamelessly designed to exploit a readership desperately searching for help. The Jerusalem Diet, sad to say, seems to fall firmly into the latter category.

The book starts to fall apart before you even open the cover. The Jerusalem Diet is not (as the authors repeatedly admit) a diet book. This is easy enough to believe, considering the book contains no specific nutritional information, but rather vague hints and suggestions, like eat healthier foods, and don’t eat cake. Cake is actually one of the few foods mentioned specifically, and it is brought up repeatedly throughout the first third of the book. Apparently, the authors believe that the overwhelming cause of obesity is an overabundance of cake eating.

It also has nothing to do with Jerusalem, other than that the principles of the book are loosely founded on the teachings of a deceased spiritual guru based in Jerusalem. The introduction claims that the book is dedicated to her memory, although the actual dedication singles out the daughters of the authors instead. The picture of a nondescript wall on the cover (behind a silhouette of a thin woman wearing a tape measure like a belt, of course), while made out of Jerusalem Stone, has nothing to do with anything, to say the least.

Two misrepresentations and a contradiction, and we aren’t even into the diet part of the book yet.

Not that there’s anything resembling a diet in there. Barely any nutritional information is mentioned, and what little that does appear is frustratingly vague. Oh, there is mention of calories, carbs, and deciding between ‘good’ and ‘bad’ foods, but the reader is pretty much left to decipher the meanings behind these for themselves.

Instead, the JD spends most of its time proposing thinking exercises reminiscent of The Secret. Why offer a structured diet plan with menu suggestions when you can tell your reader to ask themselves “Am I eating this to make myself thin” before each meal? Where most diet books would offer recipes and healthy snack alternatives, roughly two-thirds of the JD consists of imaging exercises designed to help you think yourself thin, like fixing a clock or trying to get your fist out of a jar. My personal favorite: visualize yourself unzipping a fat suit and stepping out of it. Yes sir, I can feel the pounds melting away with that one.

The implication behind most of these thought exercises is that overweight people are that way due solely to impulsive and emotional eating habits (like eating too much cake, as the author repeatedly admonishes). This attitude doesn’t take into account weight problems brought on by undiagnosed medical problems, varying metabolic rates, and poor nutritional education. Such an approach also gives the authors any easy out; if the diet doesn’t work for you, than you obviously don’t want to be thin, or are subconsciously sabotaging yourself. What’s worse, this kind of diet approach turns the dieter against themselves, making it a battle against some phantom enemy within rather than the fight to control the body’s consumption of calories for energy.

Of course, I might feel this way about the JD because I’m a man. The authors state in the beginning of the book that, while men might read the JD, it is really meant for women. (Why not mention this somewhere on the cover?). The reason, according to the author, is that men and women eat for different reasons. This is news to me. Men may be from Mars and women may be from Venus, but both are motivated to eat by hunger, comfort, and habit. And both are capable of losing weight.

Then again, maybe I’m biased because I don’t trust a diet book written by a Psychologist and an Editor, neither with a nutritional background. Or maybe I just can't any diet book seriously that suggests the reader purchase a journal and plenty of crayons. A scale and a pedometer, maybe. A coloring book, no can do.

If you are the kind of person who believes that simply thinking about good things actually makes them happen, by all means, enjoy The Jerusalem Diet. If you a rational human being in serious need of weight loss guidance, then your money will be better spent on a visit with a nutritionist and healthy cookbook.