But Somebody's Gotta Do It

A Dirty Job
by Christopher Moore
Published by William Morrow & Company
4 Out of 5 Stars

After the birth of his daughter, Charlie Asher, mild-mannered Beta Male, finds his life upended--and not just because he's become a new father. Through a strange course of events, he finds that he has been selected to be a Death Merchant, harvesting the souls of the dead and helping them on their journey to transcendence. The job, unfortunately, comes with a shit-ton of problems, such as being suspected of murder; hellhounds unexpectedly manifesting in his home; sewer harpies taunting him at every turn; encounters with an army of small, nattily dressed chimera; the perpetual threat of the Forces of Darkness rising if he fails; and the disconcerting knowledge that his daughter can kill by simply pointing and uttering that most powerful and fear inducing of words: "kitty." Plus, "Hi, I'm Death. With the big 'D'" doesn't really work as a pick-up line with the ladies. He's got ninety-nine problems, but a bitch ain't one.

His guide to his new lifestyle is The Great Big Book of Death, which really isn't that big. Or informative. Really it's just a lot of cartoonish pictures with such helpful tips as "In order to hold off the Forces of Darkness, you will need a number two pencil and a calendar." Death shops at Staples. Sucks to be Charlie.

There are a lot of words that I could throw around about Moore's writing: zany, wacky, demented, hilarious. But let's go ahead and toss "poignant" on the list. Trust me, everything you expect from a Moore novel is here, but one of the things I admire about his stories is that, for all the strangeness getting stranger, there's a well-spring of compassion and respect for humanity in his work that can surface when you least expect it. It should be no surprise that people die in a book about death, but what may catch many off guard is the genuine respect Moore demonstrates for the passing of a human life and a keen understanding that "Most of us don't live our lives with one, integrated self that meets the world, we're a whole bunch of selves. When someone dies, they all integrate into the soul--the essence of who we are, beyond the different faces we wear throughout our lives." Moments like this are what elevate Moore's work above pure screwball comedic writing. He has a keen understanding that life is absurdity and that humor is the best coping mechanism we have.

Making Comics Fun

Quantum and Woody:  Volume 1
Written by James Asmus
Illustrated by Tom Fowler
Published by Valiant
4 Out of 5 Stars

In this reboot from Valiant, Eric and Woody Henderson are adopted brothers whose relationship has always been tense. Polar opposites in every sense, Eric is the reliable, straight-arrow, while Woody is your typical case of reckless arrested development. Raised by Eric's biological father, both competed for his attention and felt unfairly judged against the strengths of the other. This rift only grows over the years to the point where the adult Eric and Woody have nothing to do with one another.

When their father is killed for one of his scientific experiments, Woody and Eric are reluctantly reunited and, in the course of investigating his murder, stumble into one of his experiments--changing the course of their lives forever. Now imbued with superpowers they neither want nor understand, they become the world's worst superhero team: Quantum and . . . well, Woody, because superhero names are stupid, right? In too deep to back out, they continue to pursue their father's killers and, during the course of the adventure, there will be sibling rivalry, crude humor, clones, spider-clown hybrid assassins, and, by God, there will be a goat.

On the surface, Quantum and Woody is nothing new. This is the formulaic buddy-cop movie setup, but with one clever twist. In making Eric and Woody brothers, the conflicts between them go well beyond personality and race. Giving them a shared history and childhood means that they're easy to relate to as it all boils down to good ol' sibling rivalry, which Asmus plays for laughs that hit close to home for anyone who knows the joys of loving--and hating to the depths of your very soul--the people who know you better than anyone else in the world.

Because I never read the original, I have no idea how this reboot matches up. But it is a comic that knows how to laugh at itself and its genre and in the grim age of nihilistic anti-heroes always teetering on the precipice of some existential crisis, it's nice to be reminded that comics can also be plain silly fun.

Failed to Cast a Spell

The Color of Magic
by Terry Pratchett
Published by Harper Perennial
2 Out of 5 Stars

Meh. It just didn't do it for me. Unfortunately, this book has been recommended to me so many times by well-meaning friends who know my love of absurd British humor that it couldn't possibly live up to the hype. It suffers from The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy syndrome. For years, everyone I knew--friends, family, students, co-workers--would ask me if I had read Hitchhiker's and their mouths would drop when I admitted no, I hadn't . . . yet. Their response was always the same, "Oh, but you have to! It's like it was written for YOU!" By the time I got around to reading it, there's no way it could have lived up to the expectations that had been percolating for years. Ditto for The Color of Magic. 

I'll admit, Pratchett has a way with words and there was the occasional turn of phrase in response to which I made that air-escaping-from-the-nose sound that's not full bodied enough to be considered a snort of laughter. There was the infrequent half-smile. A few head nods in appreciation of a clever conceit. But, alas, there were no tear-inducing uncontrollable fits of laughter, which is what I expected. Will I read more Pratchett? Yes, because I have at least three more books by him lying about. I just hope they're better than this.

Maybe . . . But the Book Doesn't

You Suck:  A Love Story
by Christopher Moore
Published by William Morrow
3 Out of 5 Stars

Funny, with some definitely quotable moments.  However, for me, Moore's vampire series is the weakest of his work.  That's not an insult--I still enjoy them and definitely snicker out loud in ways that make those around me pick up their things and stealthily move away from the crazy person, but they're a little too "wink, wink, nudge, nudge" sometimes in their humor.  What impresses me with Moore is that, often among all of the wacky chaos, he can sneak up on you with a beautiful turn of phrase or moment that catches you off-guard.  The scene where Jody feeds off of a man with terminal cancer is beautiful and touching without being maudlin.  Don't worry that there are too many moments like this, though, as there's plenty of Moore's trademark "heinous fuckery most foul."

So Wrong, but So True

Go the Fuck to Sleep
by Adam Mansbach
Illustrated by Ricardo Cortes
Published by Canongate Books
4 Out of 5 Stars

Even though I will vehemently deny it around people who know me, every once in a while I look at all the people who suck in the world and think I owe it to humanity to procreate. Why? Because, and I don't want to undersell this, I really think my children would be awesome. However, there are three primary reasons I have thus far refused to give in to any maternal instinct: 1) pregnancy and childbirth hold no appeal whatsoever as I don't think the whole host/parasite dynamic is that magical, 2) with my luck, my children would be cheerleaders and football players--and I just can't risk that, and 3) I would be the type of parent who would tell my kid to go the fuck to sleep--at least until they had the ability to mimic everything I said. I have proof of this because of the summer I baby-sat my 6 month old nephew. That child may never remember it, but during those two months he heard language normally only uttered by drunken sailors on leave--albeit in a sweet, sing-songy voice. And the only thing I wanted from him all summer was for him to go to frackin' sleep so I could read. That summer I learned why it's called baby-sitting (literally, that's all you can do--sit and watch the baby) and why I probably should not consider being a parent.

It's also because of that summer that I can understand the frustration of the narrator in this book. I also highly recommend listening to the audio version narrated by Samuel L. Jackson while reading. No one can throw down vulgarities like my man Samuel. He perfectly captures a loving, but tired parent's increasing tension and frustration while trying to coax a young'un into sleep until he finally reaches a Jules "And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger" Winnfield crescendo. And. It. Is. Awesome. 

They're Back . . .

Curse of the Spellmans
by Lisa Lutz
Published by Simon & Schuster
3 1/2 Out of 5 Stars

3 1/2 stars for this one.

Curse of the Spellmans is the sequel to The Spellman Files, a novel about an unconventional family that runs a private investigation firm. I really enjoyed The Spellman Files--it's light, amusing, and there is an inventive quality to the narrator, Izzy Spellman's, manner of conveying her story. Because of her training as a P.I., Izzy tells us everything in the form of case file reports and transcripts of secret recordings. What worked for the first novel lost some of its quirky charm for me in the second novel simply because I expected it. However, that is not to say that I didn't enjoy Curse of the Spellmans, because I certainly did.

Izzy Spellman is now 30 years old and has spent half of her life working for her parents' private investigation firm. Because she was exposed to this lifestyle in her impressionable years, Izzy is pathologically suspicious of everyone and everything, and she lacks the ability to compartmentalize her work life and her personal life. With skills like surveillance, lock picking, on-the-spot lying, GPS tracking, and performing routine background checks, woe upon you if Izzy thinks you're hiding something from her. As one might expect, this wrecks any chance Izzy has for a normal romantic relationship. Izzy fast-forwards through the whole "getting to know you" stage of a blossoming romance in favor of gaining DOB and SSN to rummage around in the prospective romantic interest's background. This usually leads to some serious trust issues on the part of the men who fall for Izzy and, as a result, Izzy is still single. It's just this pattern of thinking that leads her to believe that her next-door-neighbor-and-potential-future-boyfriend is hiding a criminal past behind his suspiciously average name and an even more suspiciously locked door in his home. In addition to this mystery, Izzy's family members seem to have secrets of their own and Izzy, a complete stranger to the concept of personal privacy, begins to ferret out why her brother's wife seems to have disappeared, why her mother runs suspicious errands at 2:30 a.m., why her father is rapidly losing weight, and why her loner sister suddenly has friends no one in the family has ever met.

If this sounds like another light, chick-lit screwball comedy, it is. These novels don't focus on the serious investigations of the Spellman Agency. Instead, they revolve around what happens in a family trying to keep secrets and boundaries when their bread-and-butter is to cross boundaries to discover the secrets of others. The mysteries really don't matter. They're simply vehicles for getting to know this bizarre and dysfunctional and frequently amusing family. 

The Family That Spies Together

The Spellman Files
by Lisa Lutz
Published by Simon and Schuster
4 Out of 5 Stars

I'm one of those people who will forgive anything of a movie or a novel as long as I enjoy the characters. If I like the characters, if I find them amusing or admirable or realistic, I'll gladly read hundreds of pages in which nothing really happens just for the pleasure of their company. This is one of those novels and, as such, while I enjoyed the hell out of it, I probably won't actively recommend it because I don't want anyone wondering, "I don't get it. What did she think was so special in this thing? Nothing really happens. Sweet bibliophilia, she book raped me!" And then there are the awkward months of refusing to make eye contact with me in the hallways, the whispering behind my back ("She's the one who book raped Edna"), and the nervous tics that will inevitably manifest themselves when I'm spotted with a book in my hand and approaching someone. And so I will not insist that anyone read this novel, although I think a person might enjoy it if he willingly chooses to read it of his own free will with no pressure from me whatsoever. 

The Spellman Files is about an eccentric family of private investigators, although it is narrated through the viewpoint of 28 year old Isabel "Izzy" Spellman, the middle child of the family. When Izzy was younger, she knew there was no way that she could live up to her impossibly perfect older brother so she instead dedicated her life to rebellion and anarchy. Izzy was a success in making her parents' lives a living hell--always in trouble with alcohol, drugs, vandalism--however, she cleans up her act (to a point) when her sister Rae is born and emulates everything Izzy does. Fortunately, the directionless Izzy's past makes her a perfect employee in the family's private investigation business. She has no scruples about following the law or the rules, has only a loose interpretation of morality, and actually enjoys detective work. While Izzy has matured, she hasn't lost her razor sharp tongue or the quirks that make her an enjoyable character. 

The novel's plot seems secondary to the character development and, while this would drive a lot of readers insane, I didn't mind it. In the beginning you learn that Rae has disappeared and the police believe Izzy is somehow connected. Through interviews and case reports, Izzy goes back and constructs the family dynamic that exists among the Spellmans. After working for so long in the PI business, they are all paranoid and hyper-sensitive to plots, treachery, and falsehoods, which lead to intrafamily battle royales over real and presumed betrayals. This is a family that loves each other, but they have strange ways of showing that love (it's nothing in the Spellman family for a relative to bug your room, put a wire tap on your phone, run a background check on your current boyfriend, pick the lock to your apartment, put you under surveillance, etc.) The methods used by the Spellman parents to make sure their children are on the straight and narrow often lead to hilarious results and the banter between the Spellman children seems authentic and real. There's no real suspense here and what little there is can be easily pieced together, but that's not the real point of the novel anyway--this is a quick, light read about the bonds that hold even the most unconventional of families together. 

Delightfully Bizarre Fantasy

The Order of Odd-Fish
by James Kennedy
Published by Delacorte Books for Young Readers
4 Out of 5 Stars

It's difficult to decide what I should say about this book. If I could sum the novel up in one word it would be, well, odd. Or absurd. Or peculiar. And I mean this in the best possible way.The Order of Odd-Fish is a young adult fantasy that drips with the absurdist humor of Monty Python or Douglas Adams. Naturally, this secures me as a fan. 

The novel is about Jo Larouche, an orphan who was found with a note that said, "This is Jo. Please take care of her. But beware--this is a DANGEROUS baby." For that alone, Jo received notoriety, but interest in her quickly fades when it appears that she will be a normal child after all. Jo is raised by Lily Larouche, an eccentric and absent minded former Hollywood starlet who, despite being in her 80's, still parties like she did in her heyday. Through a few twists and turns, Jo and Lily find themselves in Eldritch City, a bizarre land of cockroach butlers, flying ostriches, and the Order of Odd-Fish--a knighthood dedicated to researching bizarre and useless facts when not defending the city. Lily, it seems, was once a member of Odd-Fish. However, after being accused of treason, her memory was wiped and she was exiled to the desert. Now that Lily is home and has her memory back, Jo learns of the circumstances surrounding her birth and a prophecy in which she plays a role in the destruction of the world--finally, Jo realizes just how dangerous she can be.

In the beginning, I wasn't crazy about the novel. I thought it was trying too hard to be bizarre, but once the characters find themselves in Eldritch City, the bizarre quality feels right. I would highly recommend the novel to young adult fantasy fans.  

How to Write a Young Adult Novel

How Not to be Popular
by Jennifer Ziegler
Published by Delacorte Books for Young Readers
4 Out of 5 Stars

Definitely one of my more enjoyable forays into young adult literature. Sugar Magnolia "Maggie" Dempsey is the surprisingly well-adjusted daughter of hippie parents. While loving and supportive, her restless parents uproot Maggie every few months and move to another part of the country. As a young girl, Maggie loved the adventure and diversity of her parents' nomadic lifestyle. However, Maggie is now in high school and this latest move has resulted in a break-up with her first serious boyfriend. Tired of making friends only to tearfully leave them a few months later, Maggie decides that she will protect herself this time by refusing to make friends. Thus begins her quest to become unpopular.

The book is laugh out loud funny as Maggie does her best to shun popularity through a series self-inflicted, horrifyingly embarrassing situations. The problem is that she's unwittingly setting trends as she goes against the social hierarchy of her new school. No matter how hard she tries to be a social outcast, she becomes the new "it" girl.

What makes the novel so relatable is Maggie. Maggie's smart, but not precocious. She's level-headed, but not so much so that she doesn't screw things up along the way. She's neither obnoxiously mature or immature--she just seems like a real teenager. And, to top it all off, she's funny and not wistfully pining for a vampire--my current requirements for young adult heroines.

No--Thank You

Thank You, Jeeves

by P. G. Wodehouse

Published by Overlook Hardcover

4 Out of 5 Stars

For the past couple of years, the name P. G. Wodehouse kept popping up in interviews and articles about some of my favorite people (most notably Hugh Laurie and Neil Gaiman, among others). They praised him as THE master of British comedy. Since I admittedly like my comedy British, I decided it was time to give Wodehouse a try.

The thing with Wodehouse is that he creeps up on you. During the first few chapters, I thought, "What's all the fuss about?" There is some admittedly clever language and the strange turn of phrase, but nothing laugh out loud hilarious. In true Wooster fashion, I thought, "Everyone who loves this man must have gone potty. They're seriously off their onion. What a rummy bit of business this is." And then it happened--a smile here, a titter there, a giggle, and then laugh out loud hilarity. Particularly hilarious are Wooster's attempts to go to sleep while being constantly awakened by the far too diligent local lawmen, Jeeves' plan to smuggle Wooster off the yacht where he's being held captive (which results in Wooster spending a good portion of the book in black face), the quest for slabs of butter, and the maniacal replacement for Jeeves (who quit Wooster's employ because of his disdain for the banjolele).

Many of the jokes aren't subtle in that you know exactly how one event leads to the creation of a particularly vexing problem for our man Wooster. However, that doesn't rob the book of its fun as the anticipation of the event lends itself to a certain joyful giddiness when the events do indeed come to pass.

Come On In--The Water's Fine

Skinny Dip

by Carl Hiaasen

Published by Warner Books

4 Out of 5 Stars

Joey Perrone is pissed--and she has every right to be. On their second wedding anniversary, her husband, Chaz, surprises her by booking a romantic Carnival-style cruise. He surprises her again by getting her drunk, throwing her overboard in the middle of the night, and leaving her as shark bait. What Chaz doesn't know is that Joey survives by clinging to a wayward bale of Jamaican weed. She's found, exhausted and a little worse for wear, by Mick Stranahan, a recluse who lives on a private island and shuns the mainland after being forced into early retirement from the police force after killing a politically well-connected criminal. If fate dealt Joey a cruel blow that night on the cruise ship, it's certainly making up for it by creating the perfect situation in which to exact revenge on her philandering and murderous husband. What follows is a bizarre, tangled, and amusing revenge scheme that reveals just what a lowlife Chaz Perrone really is.

Carl Hiaasen books are quick, funny reads with a soul. Skinny Dip is full of quirky characters (such as Tool, the bodyguard with a bullet lodged in the crack of his ass and a penchant for collecting roadside crosses; Red Hammernut, the Yosemite Sam like billionaire making big profit off of thwarting EPA rules; Ricca, Chaz's mistress who has, shall we say, some peculiar artistic tendencies when it comes to personal grooming), implausible plot lines, and witty dialogue. However, for all of the absurdity, there is an underlying environmental message about the Everglades and how big money and political influence can circumvent the very agencies who are trying to do right by our planet. The message is never preachy; Hiaasen simply uses the characters and the plot to point out how corporate corruption is going on beneath our very noses and how industrial farming's mismanagement of natural resources is making itself felt in our water supply, our land, and in the animals who inhabit the very ecosystems we're destroying. However, if you're not looking for an environmental message, that's cool--still consider giving Hiaasen a try. There are plenty of zany capers, madcap adventures, and fun to be had.

Oh, What a Web He Weaves

Anansi Boys

by Neil Gaiman

Published by William Morrow

4 Out of 5 Stars

A Digression and a Review:

When I was a child who was much too prone to being serious for her own good, there was a catalpa tree in our backyard. Now, if you don't know what a catalpa tree is, it's worth a Google. Catalpas are beautiful and exotic, with giant leaves we used as "plates" to have fairy-like meals of mulberry and honeysuckle (with mimosa blossoms as a bit of garnish), giant bean pods that hung down like sylvan fingers ready to ensnare an unsuspecting child, white orchid-like flowers that would shower down while we swung on the tire swing below. In its boughs, I could pretend to be Pocahontas, a female Mowgli, or Jana of the Jungle. I would climb up and look down to the ground so far below, filled with delicious terror at how impossibly high I was. This tree seemed massive--big enough to hold all of my dreams and wildest flights of fancy. It, to paraphrase Zora Neale Hurston, seemed to hold dawn and doom in its branches.

As an adult, however, this tree that looms so gargantuan in my imaginary landscape seems small and shrunken, like a wizened grandparent, its limbs not so big, and I realize that, while I felt like I was climbing to the top of a skyscraper, I was barely 10 feet off the ground.

I bring this up because this is the closest approximation I can make to the difference between reading as a child and reading as an adult. As a child, there was a magic in stories, and I'm not talking about pixie dust and wands (although there was certainly some of that). There was a magic in not knowing (or caring) where a story was going. A magic to realizing why, hey, that main character is kind of like me. A magic to finding that you could read the same story over and over and over again and it would never get old and would never be the same story twice, not really. The colors were brighter. The emotions were palpable. There was nothing but possibility. And, yes, there's certainly still magic in the stories I read as an adult, but it's never quite the same, is it? I'm a little more jaded in that, as soon as I can predict where the story is going, I lose a little interest. There's a little more cynicism, a little more impatience with an "I've been here before" narrative, and a little more sadness in knowing that I can never immerse myself in adult stories with the same abandon as that 10 year old reading under the catalpa tree.

Now, I bring this up to explain that this is why I love Neil Gaiman. Gaiman can, more so than any other author, create that childlike awe of story within the adult me without telling a children's story. It's a peculiar and wonderful literary alchemy, this ability to take the adult world, the "real" world, and transform it into a place where one can find the same charm, humor, unpredictability, and enchantment found in the best children's narratives. And Anansi Boys is such a book.

A companion book to American Gods, Anansi Boys, follows the story of Fat Charlie, son of Mr. Nancy, a rascal of a man with a wicked sense of humor, an eye for the ladies, and a knack for purposely embarrassing his introverted, sensitive son. When Mr. Nancy dies, the now grown-up, soon to be married, and tenuously employed Fat Charlie is relieved that his father can never humiliate him again; however he soon finds out that life is not going to settle into a mundane, predictable pattern for him. He learns that his father was Anansi, the trickster spider god of African folklore, and he learns that he has a brother, Spider, who inherited his father's mischievous spirit and magical abilities. It's not long before the reunion between the two brothers breaks out into a serious (and frequently hilarious) case of sibling rivalry, with Spider usurping Fat Charlie's apartment, girlfriend, and life, and Fat Charlie going to extreme lengths to rid himself of his demigod brother.

Anansi Boys lacks the darkness of American Gods and is a much more whimsical, comedic read. Initially, this did cause a bit of a disconnect for me until I gave in to the story without trying to connect it with or hold it up to my expectations of American Gods. While following the adventures of Fat Charlie, I found myself laughing aloud and relishing each twist and turn in the story (as well as looking forward to the humorous "in which" chapter titles). Gaiman's love of story is evident and, as we learn through his depiction of Anansi folktales, the stories we tell and the stories we live are important not just for entertainment, but for creating the world as it should be. And the world as it should be is something as close as possible to a catalpa tree as seen through the eyes of a child--a place where anything and everything is possible, because that's where real magic resides.

More Fun Than a Barrel of Sookies

Nice Girls Don't Have Fangs

by Molly Harper

Published by Pocket Star

3 Out of 5 Stars

Sometimes I think there is a checklist being passed around among writers of vampiric fiction, a kind of The Complete Idiot's Guide to Writing Vampire Fiction, if you will. If so, this novel ticks off the following standard hallmarks:

--two possible love interests (one noble and one a scrappy rogue) for our female vampire
--creation of a synthetic blood substitute so vampires don't have to kill to get sustenance
--the vampire community "coming out" while other supernatural creatures (werewolves, witches, etc.) hang back to see how that works out for them
--a vampire society with a hierarchal structure and a couple of powerful Old World vamps hanging around
--a predictable mystery that sets our heroine at odds with the vampire elite

Having said that, I enjoyed the hell out of this book. In terms of plot, it is predictable, but what makes this such a refreshing read is the humor provided by the main character, Jane Jameson, a newly turned vampire who has to juggle her new undead status and the pesky societal pitfalls that plagued her in real life. There were times I laughed out loud (particularly after Jane and her best friend, Zeb, spend an evening injuring Jane with increasing degrees of violence just to watch her regenerate).

This is light, fluffy fun and sometimes that's more than enough.

Earnestly Entertaining

The Importance of Being Earnest

by Oscar Wilde

Published by Prestwick House

4 Out of 5 Stars

I have come to a basic conclusion:  Oscar Wilde was the man.  And this play proves it.  Full of zingers, witty banter, the well-crafted insult, and all things that make Wilde, well, Wilde, the play had me laughing out loud at lines like "The only way to behave to a woman is to make love to her, if she is pretty, and to someone else if she is plain" or, as a resigned Jack realizes none of them may be married, "Then a passionate celibacy is all that any of us can look forward to."

Also characteristic of Wilde is that there is a lot more going on here than comedy.  With a sharp eye, Wilde cleverly satirizes all aspects of aristocratic life.  For all their cleverness, these are despicable people.  They are petty, vain, arrogant, and vapid.  And hysterical.