Ravenous Bookshelf

Rating: 4/5 stars

Tiffany isn't sure that she has the proper name for a witch, but there's no helping it -- she is determined to be one, despite all those stupid fairy tales with the old crone who gets shoved into ovens or tossed into lakes or set on fire (and no one really thinks about whether this actually helps matters). It probably has something to do with her grandmother, or the way the Achings have always been linked to the Chalklands, but when monstrous things start showing up on the wold, Tiffany knows she has to put a stop to it.

The only problem is, no one's actually taught her how to be a real witch. So Tiffany has to improvise with frying pans and bits of string instead of the traditional kit of cauldron, broomstick, and pointy hat. And she has to be creative in other ways, too -- after all, using one's little brother as monster-bait may not be strictly on the level in a moral sense, but if it gets the job done...

Then Tiffany discovers that help is available, only not in the form she expects. She meets the Nac Mac Feegle, a fierce tribe of blue-tattooed, red-haired warriors, who also happen to be about six inches high. And tend to be compulsive thieves. Which at least explains about the missing eggs and the disappearing sheep.

The Nac Mac Feegles seem to know what's going on, and if Tiffany could get them to stop drinking and fighting long enough to explain, she might be able to sort it all out -- except then some sort of evil Queen kidnaps her little brother, and she is suddenly very short on time...

I adore Terry Pratchett. I love his wry sense of humor and his sly little jokes, and the way he takes the expected and twists it into something fresh -- and especially the obvious joy that he takes in words themselves, their flavors and possibilities. Tiffany is a practical, stubborn nine-year-old girl whose initial self-assurance is really just a bit of common sense with a hefty dollop of pigheadedness and a dash of selfishness - the perfect traits for a witch, who needs to know far more about thinking and watching and understanding how people work than flashy incantations or curses.

This book is geared towards a younger audience, but it doesn't get overly cutesy or simplistic, and the characters are definitely complex enough to care about. The pacing is lively and the plot flows well, and things are wrapped up in a satisfying fashion that leaves plenty of room for more adventures. Maybe not as beloved as the Night Watch exploits, but Tiffany Aching's Chalklands are well worth revisiting.

Rating: 4/5 stars

This is a review of the second in a series, but I don't have time for a first-series-book review and wanted to gush a bit about Hell Week now. So, mild plot spoilers for Prom Dates from Hell (the first book of the series) to follow:

Maggie Quinn, intrepid girl reporter, is no stranger to the supernatural -- after sixteen years of repressing her own psychic abilities, she was forced to wake up and smell the brimstone after a demon-summoning almost massacred her senior class on Prom Night. She saved the day with some quick thinking, snarky comebacks, and the guidance of her no-nonesense Irish grandmother -- oh, plus the assistance of her professor father's handsome graduate student, Justin (who has a winning combination of Boy Scout dependability and Indiana Jones rakish good looks).

Now in her freshman year of college, Maggie faces a host of new challenges, including a tougher reporting scene, an oddly distant Justin, and the horrors of an 8 a.m. Calculus class -- not to mention the mystery of the Sigma Alpha Xis, a sorority whose sisters tend to experience uncanny amounts of good luck. Maggie initially goes undercover during Rush in order to expose the hypocrisy and injustice of the campus Greek system, but as she approaches Pledge Night and Initiation, she finds that there's more than frat parties and bragging rights at stake. Something demonic is brewing on Greek Row, and it's up to Maggie to put a stop to it -- that is, if she can maintain her cover without getting pulled into the SAXi's enticing web of power, success, and perfect fashion sense.

It's easy to bill this one as Buffy meets Nancy Drew in the best way -- Maggie is a sharp, smart heroine who can banter with the best of them while dodging jinxs and demons. She's got insecurities too, though, and still struggles with her psychic 'gifts,' in the form of disturbing dreams and visions that feel more like full-body assaults. Plus, her now-ambiguious relationship with Justin has Maggie stuck in a romantic holding pattern that's easy to sympathize with, even as she observes the Greek scene and wonders about the real factors of attraction and desire on campus. Excellent plot with some great twists and a satisfying pace that never lapses into and-then-this-happened monotony; I was always eager to pick up the book for the next development, and the conclusion was a satisfying reward. With her sharp, vivid characters, witty dialogue and creative story, Clement-Moore officially has me hooked on the adventures of Maggie Quinn: Girl vs. Evil.

Rating: 5/5 stars

Gorgeous tale of Sophie Hatter, the eldest of three daughters (and therefore destined to fail first and worst in fortune-seeking), who gets cursed by the Witch of the Waste after an altercation in a hat shop. The curse turns Sophie into an old woman and forces her into the very sort of fortune-seeking that she had been trying very hard to avoid, which in turn leads to her becoming a tenant in the moving castle of the Wizard Howl – a mysterious character infamous for seducing young girls and eating their hearts. Sophie soon discovers that things aren’t exactly what she thought they were through her encounters with the chatty and untrustworthy fire demon Calcifer, a menacing hopping scarecrow and the infuriatingly vain and self-absorbed Howl himself.

Liked: Absolutely spot-on tone, perfect mixture of magical whimsical and an incisive practicality that oddly reminds me of Jane Austen. Sophie is wonderfully strong-willed even as she struggles under a sense of perpetual failure that is all the more powerful for its muted presentation. Howl, of course, becomes totally delightful; I fell in love with him and the book itself at the line:

“On the other hand, it is quite a risk to spank a wizard for getting hysterical about his hair.”

Sophisticated and neat use of magic through interwoven threads of meaning that aren’t fully explained; curses through poetry, talking life into objects, and so on.

Setbacks: That there aren’t an infinite number of Diana Wynne Jones books. The ending was a bit abrupt in a sense, but it ties together quite neatly and there wasn’t any reason to dawdle. But now I need more Diana Wynne Jones. It is a tragic state I'm in, I tell you!