Book: The Silver Dream

"The Silver Dream"

As Walkers, Joey Harker and his fellow InterWorld soldiers can pass between multiple dimensions–a skill they use as part of their mission to maintain peace as rival powers of magic and science threaten to control all worlds.

When a stranger named Acacia Jones does the impossible and follows Joey back to Base Town, things get complicated. No one knows who she is or where she’s from–or how she knows so much about InterWorld.

Dangerous times lie ahead for Joey and the mission. There’s a traitor hidden among them, and if Joey has any hope of saving InterWorld, the Altiverse, and the mission, he’s going to have to rely on his wits–and, just possibly, on the mysterious Acacia Jones.

This book might say it’s about one thing, but it’s about something else.

Acacia Jones is a red herring, although she does play into the events that unfold in The Silver Dream, she is not as instrumental to the grand design as the book blurb will make you believe.

That warning aside, let us now dive into the sequel for InterWorld:

It’s not as good as the first one. Definitely. By leaps and bounds. And once you’ve come to accept that, you’ll learn to like it for what it is–which is, a good adventure book. That’s how it was for me.

It probably has to do with the diminished participation Neil Gaiman has on this book, but the worlds we visit aren’t as rich as they were in the first novel. Then again, we don’t really dwell too long in any world for any of them to make much impact. The sequel deals more with the interpersonal relationships of the many incarnations of Joseph Harker.

Story-wise, it’s actually very hard to judge the quality of The Silver Dream. Not because it’s not good. It’s just not complete. By the time you finish the novel, it becomes clear that the whole thing is a set-up for something bigger. And you can’t say a book is good, or not good, if the story isn’t finished.

Unless, of course, this was supposed to be a complete story–and then, I must say, it’s really bad. Because it cuts off just as things are about to get interesting. It builds up and builds up, and just cuts off–

Now, if this were a character-driven story, I’d say it’s okay. But our protagonist, while embarking on a journey of self-discovery, is still on the cusp of actually doing something about said self-discovery. His journey has just reached its climax. Or is about to reach it.

So, no. It’s not good in that aspect as well.

Nor is it any good at building up the characters that already exist–or the ones it introduces in this book.

Come to think of it, The Silver Dream isn’t very good at pacing itself either. Things happen. And then something else happens. And midway, yet another thing happens. By the time we reach the latter half of the novel, we see the random things get connected together. But it’s only in the last few pages that we actually see how everything relates together, and by then, it’s being blown up to be bigger than what we thought it to be.

And then the novel ends.

The Silver Dream is a very frustrating book to read, if we’re going to be brutally honest about it. I remember enjoying the adventure aspect of it when I put it down. Going back to it now, I’m questioning what exactly I liked in the book.

I can’t think of a single reason.

I think I have to read the next book, the obvious continuation, to see if this whole thing was worth it.

This begs the question, though, why the publishers (and the writers) thought it would be okay to publish just this part of an obviously bigger story. Why not just release the whole thing as one? Why put in a cliffhanger? This is not television.

Book: Oblivion

"Oblivion"

The earth has almost been destroyed by the forces of darkness. Those who have survived are barely human, drifting in a world ruled by famine, terrorism and war. Any last hope now rests with five extraordinary teenagers: the Gatekeepers.

The Five must find each other and make a final stand against Chaos, King of the Old Ones … but Chaos is everywhere. He calls to them from Antarctica where he is gathering his forces, preparing for a last battle in the frozen wasteland of Oblivion. And one of the Five has turned traitor. The others know that without him they cannot win.

Chaos beckons. Oblivion awaits.

Four years of waiting, and this is where it ends. With 668 pages–and with me not knowing what to say.

Did I like how it ended? Yes… and no. I enjoyed the book, the journey that each Gatekeeper took, and I really liked the vibe the book emanated–that no one was safe, and that there’s a possibility the story would end sourly for our heroes. Midway through the book, we already know the fate of one of our main characters–and it’s not disappointing.

What I really, really didn’t like though was the end.

There’s a reason why Holly, a character who first appears in this book, is the one telling the story of the last battle. And while I appreciate the effort author Anthony Horowitz makes in telling a good story, there was also a feeling that the bookenders did not come out naturally–that it was forced to start with Holly, and end with Holly.

I especially did not like the epilogue. Of how we find out what happens after the war. That last few pages really spoils my enjoyment for the whole book.

This is why I both liked and disliked the last book off The Power of Five series. Anthony Horowitz delivers a finale that really gives us readers what we want (and liked) from the series. But, at the same time, he gives us an ending that is just too clean.

I would have preferred it had author Horowitz ended the book without the epilogue. And then, maybe, release a companion book later on to detail what happened after the war. But without the epilogue we got

I really, really wish the epilogue did not exist.

And I still can’t move on from my extreme dislike of said epilogue. So let’s just cut away to what other people wrote about the end of The Power of Five series:
The Book Zone
Empire of Books
366 Books: My Year of Reading

Book: Time Cat

"Time Cat"

He doesn’t have nine lives, it’s true, but Gareth the cat is far from ordinary. For one thing, he can talk. What’s more, he has magical powers that even Jason hasn’t dreamed of…

‘Anywhere, any time, any country, any century.” Gareth tells Jason he can take them traveling through time. And in a single wink of the eye, he does. From ancient Egypt to Japan, from the land of young Leonardo da Vinci to the town of a woman accused of witchcraft, Jason and Gareth are whisked from place to place and friend to foe.

Sometimes, blurbs can be a little deceiving. Other times, what you see is what you get. In the case of Time Cat, it’s the case of the latter. But don’t expect there to be anything more.

Time Cat is the story of a cat and his boy as they travel across history, to the times when cats were deemed important. It tries to talk about the importance of friendship, of not judging by appearance, of working together.

Unfortunately, none sticks.

The main problem of the story ultimately falls on the lack of conflict. The cat and Jason do face some adversaries, and there always a present danger of being separated and not being able to go back to their own time, but it doesn’t feel genuine. You always knew that they were going to get out of it alive–that, at the end of it all, they’re gonna be back in their own time, having learned the lessons they’re supposed to learn.

It all feels a little too after-school special for me.

But I’m sure other people liked the book. Like:
Book Loons
Chaotic Compendiums

Book: Lies

"Lies"

It happened in one night: a girl who died now walks among the living; Zil and the Human Crew set fire to Perdido Beach, and amid the flames and smoke, Sam sees the figure of the boy he fears the most: Drake. But Drake is dead — or so they thought.

Perdido Beach burns and battles rage: Astrid against the Town Council; the Human Crew versus the mutants; and Sam against Drake, who is back from the dead and ready to finish where he and Sam left off. They say that death is a way to escape the FAYZ. But are the kids of Perdido Beach desperate enough to believe that death will set them free?

Lies is the third book of Michael Grant’s Gone series, but I could’ve been fooled. What happened to the greatness I saw in Gone? Or the promise that was in Hunger? Lies falters in every way, and it doesn’t even feel like part of the Gone series.

After the events of Hunger, where the gaiaphage (also known as the Darkness) was defeated and Drake was finally killed, I was really hoping that author Michael Grant would now move on to more important things: like the discrimination issue, the ideal civilization that some characters wanted to build, the problems of leading a kid civilization, how they got stuck into the FAYZ (which stands for Fall-out Alley Youth Zone). Instead, we get a retread of Hunger, with a less likeable cast of returning characters, and a host of new ones who will probably die in the next book anyway.

And then there’s Alberto. After being set up as this ambitious power player in the second book, you’d think he’d play more into the events of Lies–but no. Save for one key moment with him and Quinn, you don’t even notice he’s there at all! Come to think of it, save from Astrid, none of the major players in the first two books seemed to have done anything at all.

This book feels like filler. Instead of moving the plot forward, we get another battle with the gaiaphage–whose first appearance already tips you off of its identity before it could be revealed as a twist in the end. Again, Little Pete and the gaiaphage battle it out with their powers, which runs under the main plot of Sam having a dilemma with his position as leader (again), of the humans versus mutants issue (still), and Caine’s bid for survival.

Actually, the only thing of note in this book is Caine’s group moving from Coates Academy to one of the islands. It’s basically set up for when Caine returns as a major villain. Oh, and it also introduces yet another psychotic villain who might replace Diana in the next books. Which I think is highly unnecessary.

Putting down Lies, I must say that I am not looking forward to reading the fourth book in the series. While Gone and Hunger didn’t differ much in terms of quality, and that was okay, I felt Lies should’ve started building up on what the first two books have already set up. But it doesn’t.

Author Michael Grant keeps introducing new characters into the mix, diluting what made the premise of Gone so interesting in the first place: a core group of kids take action into shaping up a new civilization as the one they’re used to falls apart. Instead we just another fantasy novel about kids with powers battling a force greater than them, and arguing during the rest periods from the war.

I hope that, in the fourth book, the author finally stops adding questions to the pile we already have–that he starts delivering answers already.

Strike that. I don’t actually mind more questions–so long as we’re also being given answers.

Like what happened to the laptop of Sam’s mom? What was she doing about Sam’s and Caine’s powers prior to the big disappearance?

We already have a theory by this time on why some kids have started to develop powers–but what is the logic behind the powers they manifest? Why aren’t all the kids developing powers?

I have so many questions. Now, I want answers.

Before I start ranting about the book again, let’s click away into other people’s blogs and see what they thought of the third book off the Gone series:
Kayla’s Book Chat
Winged Reviews
A Journey Through Pages
YouTube Review: BrandiMarie88

Book: Hunger

"Hunger"

Food ran out weeks ago and starvation is imminent. Meanwhile, the normal teens have grown resentful of the kids with powers. And when an unthinkable tragedy occurs, chaos descends upon the town. There is no longer right or wrong. Each kid is out for himself and even the good ones turn murderous.

But a larger problem looms. The Darkness, a sinister creature that has lived buried deep in the hills, begins calling to some of the teens in the FAYZ. Calling to them, guiding them, manipulating them.

The Darkness has awakened. And it is hungry.

After reading the first book, there was only one thing that I found myself caring little about: the powers. While important, it played so little into the unfolding stories of the book–save for the battle scenes that, I must admit, were really cool. But there were seeds planted in Gone that fully blooms here in the second book. After the battle of good and evil, where good seemingly won, the battle moves inward. With the normal kids fighting against the super-powered ones.

Hunger continues to tell its story with an ensemble cast. Unlike in the first book though, this one introduces a sub-story starring one of the smaller characters in the first book, Albert, which I want to discuss first.

Back in Gone, I liked the character of Albert because he was a normal kid whose common sense was a breath of fresh air from all the super-powered shenanigans happening all over the place. And, for the most part, that remains unchanged. For the most part. The awkwardness that stemmed from being the runt of a huge family seems to have disappeared. This makes sense because he’s slowly finding his place in town. But the common sense that separated him from the other characters in the first book seems to be giving way to ambition in Hunger. And I must say, I don’t like where it seems to be going.

It’s gradual. Albert, for the most part, still has great ideas for their community. The plans he execute are actually very smart. Too smart for a teenager, but we’ll suspend our disbelief. But the last leg of his Hunger journey has me scratching my head. In what universe is it smart to use bullets as currency? Especially around kids who are ready to wage war against each other? Where there are guns aplenty, and no one is regulating their use?

That way leads to a lot of stupid mistakes. And I can’t believe this came from Albert. Unless the author reveals a sudden twist in the next book where Albert was replaced by an agent of darkness. Who knows.

The reason why I bring up this sub-story is because I feel like this will play a bigger role in the next books. Much like the other sub-story that, I feel, should’ve been the one in the spotlight: the normals versus the freaks.

It’s discrimination. There are no pretensions about it, as one character explicitly points it out. And in a post-apocalyptic setting where mob mentality rules the mostly kid population? It’s a very interesting premise that, I feel, falters in the end. No one even dies.

I’m sure there are reasons for there no being casualties. And I don’t think author Michael Grant is afraid of killing off characters, as evidenced in the first chapter of this book. But I do feel that something bigger should’ve happened with this story before the book ended. I just hope there’s more to this storyline in the next book.

With the sub-stories aside, let’s move on to the main plot: which is hard to put into paper. You have Sam who is dealing with leadership issues, Caine who is holding on dearly to his crumbling dictatorship, and then there’s the Darkness–and its hold on a number of our main characters, and its plans of being released out of the mine shaft.

In the first book, the Darkness felt a little tacked on. Again, as I said, the powers really do feel like a latch on in Gone. But in this book, the Darkness is explored further as a character. Sort of. It’s definitely used more to explore the characters of Lana the healer and Caine. Which, I thought, was a great use for the monster in the shaft. Just not a very complete use. I mean, by the end of the book, it felt like the Darkness was one of the monsters that the Power Rangers fought week after week, presented as the strongest force, as something to fear–and then defeated by the end of an episode.

Unless, again, it plays a bigger role in the next book. How? I don’t know as I haven’t started reading the third book yet.

What I really want to discuss though is Sam’s character.

Sam who was an amazing flawed protagonist in the first book mutated into something of a whiny baby in Hunger. Aside from the first chapter, I don’t think there was a single scene in which Sam did not complain about his circumstances. Sure, he didn’t ask to be made leader–but he accepted it. And while it’s understandable for him to feel the pressure of the job, we didn’t have to be reminded of it every single time he appears.

It reached a point when I sought refuge in the scenes that revolved around other characters. Even horribly underused new characters who seemed to have been introduced just to serve as canon fodder.

Don’t get me wrong. I enjoyed reading the book, but it’s not exactly the most perfect book written. But, I must say, Hunger being not perfect makes it the perfect book to have discussions with. And it’s not like the book turned me off the series. I already bought the third and fourth book, actually.

Now, let’s see what other people have said about this book:
Reading Writing Breathing
Georgia Summers
Books4Hearts
YouTube Review: beardude37