Gobblers for XMas

Three minutes more reading in the bookstore would have saved me from Wen Spencer’s Tinker. It reads, sadly, like Hugo Gernsback channeling nerdy misfit valley girl Ralphette 1259C+, with magic and elves and the NSA mixed in. “If we include all the flavors of ice-cream,” the editor crows, “Then everyone will buy it!” [I’m happy to see that Emma Bull’s fine War for the Oaks has been reprinted. Motorcycles and elves do mix, if you approach it right].

There’s an annotated Da Vinci code on the shelves. I steer wide. And someone’s discovered even more Elron scribblings. A meme in local bookstores appears to be to turn these books face-in to the shelves (I do not condone this, I was just amused. Any actual authors who might stumble upon this blog — horrors, run away right now! — can feel justifiably angered).

As I suspected, The Confusion is going to be a slog. Bits of fine action separated by dessicated wastelands of exposition and descriptions of family trees. I’ll review it sometime (late) next year…

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