Upgrade

 

Upgrade by Blake Crouch

Fiction

2022

Finished on June 22, 2026

Rating: 4/5 (Very Good)

Publisher's Blurb:

At first, Logan Ramsay isn’t sure if anything’s different. He just feels a little . . . sharper. Better able to concentrate. Better at multitasking. Reading a bit faster, memorizing better, needing less sleep.

But before long, he can’t deny it: Something’s happening to his brain. To his body. He’s starting to see the world, and those around him—even those he loves most—in whole new ways.

The truth is, Logan’s genome has been hacked. And there’s a reason he’s been targeted for this upgrade. A reason that goes back decades to the darkest part of his past, and a horrific family legacy.

Worse still, what’s happening to him is just the first step in a much larger plan, one that will inflict the same changes on humanity at large—at a terrifying cost.

Because of his new abilities, Logan’s the one person in the world capable of stopping what’s been set in motion. But to have a chance at winning this war, he’ll have to become something other than himself. Maybe even something other than human.

And even as he’s fighting, he can’t help wondering: what if humanity’s only hope for a future really does lie in engineering our own evolution?

Intimate in scale yet epic in scope, Upgrade is an intricately plotted, lightning-fast tale that charts one man’s thrilling transformation, even as it asks us to ponder the limits of our humanity—and our boundless potential.

Upgrade is the third novel by Blake Crouch that I've read and enjoyed. As with Dark Matter and Recursion, I was quickly drawn into the story, the pages practically turning themselves. Similar to my reading experience with Crouch's books, as well as Andy Weir's Project Hail Mary, I found that I could read about science, and specifically molecular genetics and genetic engineering, without getting hung up on the specifics. Published just four years ago, this timely novel struck several chords with how our nation (and world) is evolving:

And I was struck again with the awareness that I was alive in strange times. There was a palpable sense of things in decline.

Africa alone had four billion people, most of whom were food insecure and worse. Even here in America, we were still crippled by rolling food shortages, supply-chain disruptions, and labor scarcity. With the cost of meat having skyrocketed, most restaurants that had closed during the Great Starvation never reopened.

We lived in a veritable surveillance state, engaged with screens more than with our loved ones, and the algorithms knew us better than we knew ourselves.

Each passing year, more jobs were lost to automation and artificial intelligence.

Crouch's characters are rich and fully realized, and the dialogue flows smoothly. And yet, by the halfway mark, I grew impatient. The momentum of the story was beginning to wane. I pushed through and finished, but what I thought would be a 5-star read dropped down a full point. The author has sold the rights to Amblin, Steven Spielberg's company. I enjoyed the 9-episode Apple TV series of Dark Matter, and look forward to watching Upgrade once it hits a streaming platform. 

If you haven't read Blake Crouch, I recommend starting with one of his previous books. This one is somewhat underwhelming.

Dark Matter (4.5/5)

Recursion (5/5)

Looking Back - The Handmaid's Tale

Looking Back... In an effort to transfer my book journal entries over to this blog, I'm going to attempt to post (in chronological order) an entry every Friday. I may or may not add extra commentary to what I jotted down in these journals.

The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood

Fiction

1985

Finished on May 19, 2002

Rating: 4.5/5 (Very Good)

Publisher's Blurb:

The Handmaid's Tale is an instant classic and eerily prescient cultural phenomenon, from "the patron saint of feminist dystopian fiction" (New York Times). 

The Handmaid’s Tale is a novel of such power that the reader will be unable to forget its images and its forecast. Set in the near future, it describes life in what was once the United States and is now called the Republic of Gilead, a monotheocracy that has reacted to social unrest and a sharply declining birthrate by reverting to, and going beyond, the repressive intolerance of the original Puritans. The regime takes the Book of Genesis absolutely at its word, with bizarre consequences for the women and men in its population. The story is told through the eyes of Offred, one of the unfortunate Handmaids under the new social order. In condensed but eloquent prose, by turns cool-eyed, tender, despairing, passionate, and wry, she reveals to us the dark corners behind the establishment’s calm facade, as certain tendencies now in existence are carried to their logical conclusions. The Handmaid’s Tale is funny, unexpected, horrifying, and altogether convincing. It is at once scathing satire, dire warning, and a tour de force. It is Margaret Atwood at her best.

IN THE WORLD OF THE NEAR FUTURE, WHO WILL CONTROL WOMEN'S BODIES?

Offred is a Handmaid in the Republic of Gilead. She may leave the home of the Commander and his wife once a day to walk to food markets whose signs are now pictures instead of words because women are no longer allowed to read. She must lie on her back once a month and pray that the Commander makes her pregnant, because in an age of declining births, Offred and the other Handmaids are valued only if their ovaries are viable.

Offred can remember the years before, when she lived and made love with her husband Luke; when she played with and protected her daughter; when she had a job, money of her own, and access to knowledge. But all of that is gone now... everything has changed.

My Original Thoughts (2002):

Terrific! Couldn't put it down. Much better than The Blind Assassin. I will be more apt to read more by Atwood now that I've read this engaging and imaginative novel. It's quite disturbing, at times. Highly recommend.

My Current Thoughts:

It's funny to read my past thoughts on this book since I've always thought I didn't like it. Huh. I'm really tempted to read it again now that I'm watching the Hulu TV series, starring Elizabeth Moss (which is outstanding!).

The Giver

The Giver by Lois Lowry

Children's Fiction - Classic

1993 Houghton Mifflin

First reading: February 6, 2002

Second reading: February 22, 2024

Original rating: 5/5 (Excellent)

New rating: 4/5 (Very good)

Publisher's Blurb:

"It was almost December, and Jonas was beginning to be frightened."

Thus opens this haunting novel in which a boy inhabits a seemingly idea world; a world without conflict, poverty, unemployment, divorce, injustice, or inequality. It is a time in which family values are paramount, teenage rebellion is unheard of, and even good manners are a way of life.

December is a time of the annual Ceremony at which each twelve year old receives a life assignment determined by the Elders. Jonas watches his friend Fiona named Caretaker of the Old and his cheerful pal Asher labeled the Assistant Director of Recreation. But Jonas has been chosen for something special. When his selection leads him to an unnamed man--the man called only the Giver--he begins to sense the dark secrets that underlie the fragile perfection of his world. 

Told with deceptive simplicity, this is the provocative story of a boy who experiences something incredible and undertakes something impossible. In the telling it questions every value we have taken for granted and reexamines our most deeply held beliefs.

My Original Thoughts (2002):

I loved this thought-provoking story of a not-so-perfect world. Image a world without snow, sunshine or wind. This climate-controlled society seems like a good idea?? "In order to gain control of many things, certain things had to be let go of." "Sameness" eliminates the use of color, "real" parents, books, etc. This is a meticulously ordered community that, from first appearances, seems like a great idea. But when Jonas learns the true meaning of "release," it no longer seems like an ideal life. Ambiguous ending was ok with me.

My Current Thoughts:

I've had this book on my "keeper" shelf for more than two decades with great intentions of reading it a second time. Maybe it's time.

My Latest Thoughts (2024):

After writing my "looking back" post, I decided to follow through with my desire to re-read this book. I'd forgotten a lot of specific details pertaining to Jonas' "seemingly ideal world," but certain aspects of the tale disturbed me, both then and now. I read The Giver when I was 40 and again at 62, so my reactions are based on my life experiences as an adult. It would be interesting to hear what young readers think of Lowry's story.

I haven't read the follow-up stories, but am interested in giving Gathering Blue a read.

Looking Back - The Giver

Looking Back... In an effort to transfer my book journal entries over to this blog, I'm going to attempt to post (in chronological order) an entry every Friday. I may or may not add extra commentary to what I jotted down in these journals.

The Giver by Lois Lowry

Children's Fiction

1993 Houghton Mifflin

Finished on February 6, 2002

Rating: 5/5 (Excellent)

Publisher's Blurb:

"It was almost December, and Jonas was beginning to be frightened."

Thus opens this haunting novel in which a boy inhabits a seemingly idea world; a world without conflict, poverty, unemployment, divorce, injustice, or inequality. It is a time in which family values are paramount, teenage rebellion is unheard of, and even good manners are a way of life.

December is a time of the annual Ceremony at which each twelve year old receives a life assignment determined by the Elders. Jonas watches his friend Fiona named Caretaker of the Old and his cheerful pal Asher labeled the Assistant Director of Recreation. But Jonas has been chosen for something special. When his selection leads him to an unnamed man--the man called only the Giver--he begins to sense the dark secrets that underlie the fragile perfection of his world. 

Told with deceptive simplicity, this is the provocative story of a boy who experiences something incredible and undertakes something impossible. In the telling it questions every value we have taken for granted and reexamines our most deeply held beliefs.

My Original Thoughts (2002):

I loved this thought-provoking story of a not-so-perfect world. Image a world without snow, sunshine or wind. This climate-controlled society seems like a good idea?? "In order to gain control of many things, certain things had to be let go of." "Sameness" eliminates the use of color, "real" parents, books, etc. This is a meticulously ordered community that, from first appearances, seems like a great idea. But when Jonas learns the true meaning of "release," it no longer seems like an ideal life. Ambiguous ending was ok with me.

My Current Thoughts:

I've had this book on my "keeper" shelf for more than two decades with great intentions of reading it a second time. Maybe it's time.

The Light Pirate

The Light Pirate by Lily Brooks-Dalton

Fiction

2022 Grand Central Publishing

Finished on September 3, 2023

Rating: 5/5 (Outstanding)

Publisher's Blurb:

Florida is slipping away. As devastating weather patterns and rising sea levels gradually wreak havoc on the state’s infrastructure, a powerful hurricane approaches a small town on the southeastern coast. Kirby Lowe, an electrical line worker; his pregnant wife, Frida; and their two sons, Flip and Lucas, prepare for the worst. When the boys go missing just before the hurricane hits, Kirby heads out into the high winds to search for them. Left alone, Frida goes into premature labor and gives birth to an unusual child, Wanda, whom she names after the catastrophic storm that ushers her into a society closer to collapse than ever before.

As Florida continues to unravel, Wanda grows. Moving from childhood to adulthood, adapting not only to the changing landscape, but also to the people who stayed behind in a place abandoned by civilization, Wanda loses family, gains community, and ultimately, seeks adventure, love, and purpose in a place remade by nature.

Told in four parts—power, water, light, and time—The Light Pirate mirrors the rhythms of the elements and the sometimes quick, sometimes slow dissolution of the world as we know it. It is a meditation on the changes we would rather not see, the future we would rather not greet, and a call back to the beauty and violence of an untamable wilderness. 

Imagine a time when it is literally too hot to go outside during daylight hours. If you do, your core body temperature will rise so quickly, you will suffer from heat exhaustion within minutes and die. Nocturnal life becomes the norm for survival.

Imagine a year in which there are so many hurricanes that the World Meteorological Organization (WMO) goes through the entire alphabet, only to start over again before the end of the "season."

Imagine the disappearance of Miami-Dade County, the Outer Banks, and other coastal cities, all preceded by a mass exodus of residents to safer locations where they endure perpetual wildfires in their new communities.

These calamities are not difficult to imagine. One just needs to read the news and know how close we are coming to creating the above into realities. The following  headline was published in the New York Times on Labor Day:

In a typical Atlantic Ocean hurricane season, August is the ramp-up to September’s peak. This season came to life almost overnight in mid-August, producing a record four named storms in less than 48 hours. [Emphasis mine]

I also read this in The New York Times earlier this month:

More than any past year, this summer felt like the moment that climate change came for the vacationer. It began with heat waves across Southern Europe, where popular attractions closed to avoid the intolerable midafternoon temperatures. The infernal heat cured the kindling for wildfires, which were soon raging in Italy, Turkey, Spain, Portugal, Cyprus, Greece and elsewhere, forcing holiday cancellations and, as in the case of Rhodes, large-scale evacuations. On the other side of the world, another fire, this one likely supercharged by hurricane winds, consumed Lahaina on Maui, killing at least 115 people.

Hail as big as tennis balls pounded towns in northern Italy. Torrential rain triggered flash floods across Central Europe. All of this wild weather has coincided with tourism’s great rebound, the year when tourist numbers are expected to recover to prepandemic levels.

and

There are few contingencies in motion for when the weather in today’s most popular destinations becomes a bane rather than a blessing. Many people are speculating that European summer travel patterns are bound to migrate north as prospective vacationers deem an increasing likelihood of sustained 110-degree Fahrenheit temperatures too much to bear. Uncanny sights like the ghostly hotel towers of Varosha, a once-glamorous resort in Cyprus that was abandoned after the Turkish invasion of 1974, may become commonplace across Europe’s southern coasts.

The gravity of the climate crisis should not be lost on readers of The Light Pirate, a novel so timely and smartly written, it should be required reading not only of high school students, but all citizens of this planet. Cli-fi is a new-to-me genre, but unlike its sister Sci-fi, it's far too realistic and terrifying, the imminent threat all too near and not to be ignored. As Kirby, one of the main characters, believes:

This world is worried, of course, about climbing temperatures and vengeful wildfires and rising tides. The headlines are absolutely terrible[...]. Incessant. Exhausting. But they're just that. Headlines. Things that happen to other people, elsewhere. The Middle East, Indonesia, Northern California, the Bahamas: those poor people. Southern Florida and the Keys, Louisiana, Puerto Rico: those poor people. The safe zones have shrunk, will go on shrinking, but the people still firmly attached to the idea that there will continue to be such lines--between safe and not safe, between us and those poor people--are determined to go on as they always have.

and

By the time Kirby reaches the parking lot, he realizes that he's known for weeks. Months, even. It was the same with the beaches. The same with the floods, the hurricanes, the sea level. Didn't he know all of this was coming? Didn't everyone? They've known for years. Decades. It didn't make any difference. None at all. Because now it's here and despite all that knowing, he's lost. Everyone is. They had all hung their hats on the question of proximity. Yes, it will be bad, they said to one another, but we have years. We have time. Somehow we'll solve this along the way. He doesn't even have the energy to be angry. 

I'm not a fan of magical realism, but I was willing to suspend disbelief and just go with it. The occurences are not a distraction and, truthfully, I enjoyed those parts of the story. Don't let that label dissuade you from reading this powerful book!

Thought-provoking is a hackneyed term, but I can't think of a better descriptor for The Light Pirate. It's a gripping read from the opening lines, easing up before the halfway point, but never losing momentum or growing sluggish. I haven't read a lot of climate fiction, but Ash Davidson's debut novel, Damnation Spring (an environmental story set in the California redwood forests) came to mind as I read Brooks-Dalton's provocative, cautionary tale. 

I loved this novel, which is so beautifully written with well-drawn characters I hated to say goodbye to. I couldn't put it down! The Light Pirate is one to own, to share with others, to discuss in book groups, and to inspire all of us to do more to save our planet. Highly recommend.

The Measure

The Measure by Nikki Erlick

Fiction

2022 William Morrow

Finished on February 16, 2023

Rating: 3.5/5 (Good)

Publisher's Blurb:

Eight ordinary people. One extraordinary choice.

It seems like any other day. You wake up, pour a cup of coffee, and head out.

But today, when you open your front door, waiting for you is a small wooden box. This box holds your fate inside: the answer to the exact number of years you will live.

From suburban doorsteps to desert tents, every person on every continent receives the same box. In an instant, the world is thrust into a collective frenzy. Where did these boxes come from? What do they mean? Is there truth to what they promise?

As society comes together and pulls apart, everyone faces the same shocking choice: Do they wish to know how long they’ll live? And, if so, what will they do with that knowledge?

The Measure charts the dawn of this new world through an unforgettable cast of characters whose decisions and fates interweave with one another: best friends whose dreams are forever entwined, pen pals finding refuge in the unknown, a couple who thought they didn’t have to rush, a doctor who cannot save himself, and a politician whose box becomes the powder keg that ultimately changes everything.

I loved the premise of this book, and when I first started reading, I thought I was in for another 5-star read. It's the type of story that's unique and inventive, and I could quickly see why it wound up on so many readers' "Best of 2022" lists. And yet, as I got further into the novel, it began to fizzle out. The characters are fairly one-dimensional and the plot lacks tension. I kept wondering if there would be a big reveal about the origin of the strings, or if there would be a sudden turning point in the manner in which lives were predicted as the years progressed. However, as the end of the book drew near, the narrative remained predictable and dull. I didn't mind the thinly veiled (albeit negative) nod to Trump, and the parallels to the Covid pandemic were subtle and not overwrought, but there was too much telling and not enough showing. 

With that said, it is a thought-provoking concept that would make for good dinner conversation fodder. Would you or wouldn't you open your box to see how much longer you had to live? Would you tell your partner? Your boss? Your parents? Fans of The Midnight Library (Matt Haig) might enjoy this one. As for me, I look forward to Erlick's next endeavor, as she has potential.

Klara and the Sun

Klara and the Sun by Kazuo Ishiguro

Fiction - Dystopic

2021 Alfred A. Knopf

Finished on July 10, 2022

Rating: 2/5 (Fair)

Publisher's Blurb:

From the best-selling author of Never Let Me Go and The Remains of the Day, a stunning new novel—his first since winning the Nobel Prize in Literature—about the wondrous, mysterious nature of the human heart.

From her place in the store, Klara, an Artificial Friend with outstanding observational qualities, watches carefully the behavior of those who come in to browse, and of those who pass on the street outside. She remains hopeful that a customer will soon choose her, but when the possibility emerges that her circumstances may change forever, Klara is warned not to invest too much in the promises of humans.

In Klara and the Sun, Kazuo Ishiguro looks at our rapidly changing modern world through the eyes of an unforgettable narrator to explore a fundamental question: what does it mean to love?

My book group is discussing Klara and the Sun later next week. I have heard so much praise for this novel and have always intended to read something by Ishiguro, so I was happy to get a copy from the library with plenty of time to read it for the discussion. My overall impression is that this is a very odd story. It took me three or four chapters before I got interested in the novel and almost quit early on. I went back to Goodreads and read some of the reviews posted by my friends and decided to push on and see why so many loved Klara's story. The dialogue is stilted and unnatural, which became annoying as the story progressed. There are details about Klara and the dystopic society that are confusing, but most of my questions were answered in the Q&A section on Goodreads. There is a vagueness to the plot, and the ending is ambiguous; the combination was frustrating and makes me wonder if I'm not smart enough for Ishiguro or if I simply missed the underlying metaphors. It will be interesting to hear the opinions of my fellow book group members, but whether or not they enjoyed the book, I'm sure we'll have plenty to discuss. I plan to read Never Let Me Go, which has been languishing on my shelves for years, but Ishiguro's latest isn't one that I can recommend. I hope Kazuo Ishiguro isn't going to be one of those authors like Margaret Atwood and Toni Morrison (I know, I know) who just isn't for me. 

Leave the World Behind

Leave the World Behind by Rumaan Alam

Fiction

2020 HarperAudio
Narrated by Marin Ireland

Finished on 2/10/22

Rating: 3/5 (Good)

Publisher's Blurb:

A magnetic novel about two families, strangers to each other, who are forced together on a long weekend gone terribly wrong.

Amanda and Clay head out to a remote corner of Long Island expecting a vacation: a quiet reprieve from life in New York City, quality time with their teenage son and daughter, and a taste of the good life in the luxurious home they’ve rented for the week. But a late-night knock on the door breaks the spell. Ruth and G. H. are an older black couple—it’s their house, and they’ve arrived in a panic. They bring the news that a sudden blackout has swept the city. But in this rural area—with the TV and internet now down, and no cell phone service—it’s hard to know what to believe.

Should Amanda and Clay trust this couple—and vice versa? What happened back in New York? Is the vacation home, isolated from civilization, a truly safe place for their families? And are they safe from one another?

Suspenseful and provocative, Rumaan Alam’s third novel is keenly attuned to the complexities of parenthood, race, and class. Leave the World Behind explores how our closest bonds are reshaped—and unexpected new ones are forged—in moments of crisis.

I listened to the audiobook of Leave the World Behind, which was probably the best way to go with this dystopic thriller. Marin Ireland's narration is excellent, bringing each characters' anxiety about the blackout and the unknown global situation to life. The reader is given clues about what is taking place, but the characters are left in the dark (literally and figuratively), even up to the very last page. I have a feeling that had I instead read the print edition, I would have grown bored and given up, but Ireland's performance maintained just enough tension to keep me listening. Even listening to the countless lists (what Amanda bought at the grocery store, what they packed to take to the beach, what they ate for dinner) was entertaining, the cadence of each almost melodic to the ear, but eventually grew tiresome. In spite of the narration and apocalyptic nature of the novel (which I usually enjoy), I was underwhelmed. I would have liked a less ambiguous ending. Netflix plans to produce an adaptation of the book starring Mahershala Ali, Ethan Hawke, Myha'la Herrold and Julia Roberts. This may be the rare case in which the movie is better than the book.

I received a complimentary copy from Libro.fm. All thoughts and opinions are my own.

Migrations

Migrations by Charlotte McConaghy

Fiction

2020 Macmillan Audio

Read by Barrie Kreinik  

Finished on July 15, 2021

Rating: 3.5/5 (Good)

Publisher's Blurb:

Franny Stone has always been the kind of woman who is able to love but unable to stay. Leaving behind everything but her research gear, she arrives in Greenland with a singular purpose: to follow the last Arctic terns in the world on what might be their final migration to Antarctica. Franny talks her way onto a fishing boat, and she and the crew set sail, traveling ever further from shore and safety. But as Franny’s history begins to unspool—a passionate love affair, an absent family, a devastating crime—it becomes clear that she is chasing more than just the birds. When Franny's dark secrets catch up with her, how much is she willing to risk for one more chance at redemption?

Epic and intimate, heartbreaking and galvanizing, Charlotte McConaghy's Migrations is an ode to a disappearing world and a breathtaking page-turner about the possibility of hope against all odds.

After reading several glowing reviews by fellow bloggers, I couldn't wait to read Migrations. I recommended it to my book group (based on those reviews) and we chose to read it in August. Given that I don't read a lot during the summer, I decided to get a jump start and began listening early last week. I was surprised that it was such a quick listen and I finished well ahead of the August meeting.

I enjoyed the book once I settled into the alternating time periods, but I didn't love it as many of my friends did. None of the characters were especially likeable, but the premise of the tale was intriguing and I was eager to find out more about Franny. The timeline shifts were abrupt and I grew weary of the teasing out of details pertaining to Franny's prison sentence, but I kept reading, determined to find the beauty in the narrative. The big reveal at the end (which I guessed early on) wasn't at all surprising, but it didn't spoil the story to know it in advance. 

Barrie Kreinik does a wonderful job with the narration of the audiobook. Her pacing and accents are spot on, which made for an enjoyable listening experience.

I'm looking forward to my book group discussion. Maybe then, after further consideration, I'll bump my rating up to 4-stars. At this point, while I can recommend the book, it's not going to hit my Top Ten list for the year. 

I received a complimentary copy from Libro.fm. All thoughts and opinions are my own.

The Fireman

The Fireman by Joe Hill

Fiction/Dystopia

2016 HarperAudio

Narrated by Kate Mulgrew

Finished on January 5, 2021

Rating: 3/5 (Good)

Publisher's Blurb:

From the award-winning, New York Times bestselling author of NOS4A2 and Heart-Shaped Box comes a chilling novel about a worldwide pandemic of spontaneous combustion that threatens to reduce civilization to ashes and a band of improbable heroes who battle to save it, led by one powerful and enigmatic man known as the Fireman. The fireman is coming.

Stay cool.

No one knows exactly when it began or where it originated. A terrifying new plague is spreading like wildfire across the country, striking cities one by one: Boston, Detroit, Seattle. The doctors call it Draco Incendia Trychophyton. To everyone else it’s Dragonscale, a highly contagious, deadly spore that marks its hosts with beautiful black and gold marks across their bodies—before causing them to burst into flames. Millions are infected; blazes erupt everywhere. There is no antidote. No one is safe.

Harper Grayson, a compassionate, dedicated nurse as pragmatic as Mary Poppins, treated hundreds of infected patients before her hospital burned to the ground. Now she’s discovered the telltale gold-flecked marks on her skin. When the outbreak first began, she and her husband, Jakob, had made a pact: they would take matters into their own hands if they became infected. To Jakob’s dismay, Harper wants to live—at least until the fetus she is carrying comes to term. At the hospital, she witnessed infected mothers give birth to healthy babies and believes hers will be fine too. . . if she can live long enough to deliver the child.

Convinced that his do-gooding wife has made him sick, Jakob becomes unhinged, and eventually abandons her as their placid New England community collapses in terror. The chaos gives rise to ruthless Cremation Squads—armed, self-appointed posses roaming the streets and woods to exterminate those who they believe carry the spore. But Harper isn’t as alone as she fears: a mysterious and compelling stranger she briefly met at the hospital, a man in a dirty yellow fire fighter’s jacket, carrying a hooked iron bar, straddles the abyss between insanity and death. Known as The Fireman, he strolls the ruins of New Hampshire, a madman afflicted with Dragonscale who has learned to control the fire within himself, using it as a shield to protect the hunted . . . and as a weapon to avenge the wronged.

In the desperate season to come, as the world burns out of control, Harper must learn the Fireman’s secrets before her life—and that of her unborn child—goes up in smoke.

I came across Joe Hill's debut novel (Heart-Shaped Box) over a decade ago and quickly became a fan. I read 20th Century Ghosts (his collection of short stories) and Horns a couple of years later, but never got around to reading The Fireman when it was released. It wasn't the premise of the book that made me hesitate, but rather its heft! The print edition has 768 pages and the audio clocks in at over 22 hours of listening time. I really needed to be in the mood for this chunkster!

I began listening at the beginning of October, but had to pause when it came time to listen to American Dirt for my upcoming book group discussion. I was actually at a point in The Fireman when I was tempted to call it quits, so it was probably good to have a little break and listen to something else. I didn't resume listening right after finishing American Dirt, but went on to another audiobook that had been in my queue. When that was over, I decided to see if I could finish The Fireman since I had already invested so much time in it. Surprisingly, I was able to pick up right where I left off without any confusion or need to refresh my memory on the plot or characters.

Going into The Fireman, I had no idea that book centered around a pandemic and as I listened, I felt as if Hill could be writing about our early days in the COVID pandemic. Confusion about how the virus spread, as well as the division between members of society on prevention and treatment, sounded all too familiar. Thank goodness we don't have to worry about bursting into flames!

Kate Mulgrew does a fine job with the audio narration, but I never felt completely hooked and wonder if a different reader would have pulled me in better. I'm thinking of someone along the lines of Scott Brick, who did an outstanding job with The Passage and The Twelve by Justin Cronin. Or, maybe this is one which should have been enjoyed in print rather than audio. I'm not sorry that I read the book, but it was far too long for my liking, losing steam around the halfway mark. Heart-Shaped Box remains my favorite, but I still haven't read NOS4A2, so that may change.  

The Dreamers

The Dreamers by Karen Thompson Walker
Science Fiction
2019 Random House
Finished on December 28, 2019
Rating: 4.5/5 (Very Good)

Publisher's Blurb:

An ordinary town is transformed by a mysterious illness that triggers perpetual sleep in this mesmerizing novel from the New York Times bestselling author of The Age of Miracles.

“This book is stunning.”—Emily St. John Mandel, author of Station Eleven

One night in an isolated college town in the hills of Southern California, a first-year student stumbles into her dorm room, falls asleep—and doesn’t wake up. She sleeps through the morning, into the evening. Her roommate, Mei, cannot rouse her. Neither can the paramedics, nor the perplexed doctors at the hospital. When a second girl falls asleep, and then a third, Mei finds herself thrust together with an eccentric classmate as panic takes hold of the college and spreads to the town. A young couple tries to protect their newborn baby as the once-quiet streets descend into chaos. Two sisters turn to each other for comfort as their survivalist father prepares for disaster.

Those affected by the illness, doctors discover, are displaying unusual levels of brain activity, higher than has ever been recorded before. They are dreaming heightened dreams—but of what?

Written in luminous prose, The Dreamers is a breathtaking and beautiful novel, startling and provocative, about the possibilities contained within a human life—in our waking days and, perhaps even more, in our dreams.

I loved Walker's debut novel, The Age of Miracles (reviewed here), and was thrilled when I learned she had written another book. It was published at the beginning of the year, but I delayed getting a copy until I knew I could devote my full attention to the book without any interruptions. Life got busy with travel and illnesses and before I knew it, a year had passed since I first read about The Dreamers. A few days before Christmas, I borrowed a copy from the library and started reading on Christmas Eve. I was completely sucked in from the opening lines and had I not been busy preparing our Christmas dinner, I could have easily spent the entire day reading from cover to cover, it was that compelling. The further along I read, the more curious I became about the cause and ultimate outcome of the pandemic. Eager as I was to have my questions answered, yet choosing to savor the book as long as I could, the final pages came far too quickly. Sadly, the denouement was anticlimactic and left me with too many unanswered questions. In spite of this quibble, I loved this riveting story and look forward to more by Karen Thompson Walker.

The Girl with All the Gifts

The Girl with All the Gifts by M.R. Carey
Science Fiction
2014 Hachette Audio
Read by Finty Williams
Finished on August 16, 2016
Rating: 4/5 (Very Good)

Publisher's Blurb:

Melanie is a very special girl. Dr. Caldwell calls her "our little genius."

Every morning, Melanie waits in her cell to be collected for class. When they come for her, Sergeant Parks keeps his gun pointing at her while two of his people strap her into the wheelchair. She thinks they don't like her. She jokes that she won't bite, but they don't laugh.

Melanie loves school. She loves learning about spelling and sums and the world outside the classroom and the children's cells. She tells her favorite teacher all the things she'll do when she grows up. Melanie doesn't know why this makes Miss Justineau look sad.

The Girl with All the Gifts is a sensational thriller, perfect for fans of Stephen King, Justin Cronin, and Neil Gaiman.

I chose to read The Girl with All the Gifts after hearing two of my coworkers give it high praise. After listening to a sample of the audio on Audible.com, I decided to go with the audio, as the reader is outstanding. I thoroughly enjoyed the book, eager to return to it whenever time would allow.

I love the way the author describes the following scene in which the children see flowers, perhaps for the very first time in their young lives.

...It's kind of ugly, Melanie thinks, but absolutely fascinating. Especially when Miss Justineau explains that the little green balls are buds--and they'll turn into leaves and cover the whole tree in green, as though it's put a summer dress on.

But there's a lot more stuff in the bag, and when Miss Justineau starts to unpack it, the whole class stares in awe. Because the bag is full of colours--starburst and wheels and whorls of dazzling brightness that are as fine and complex in their structures as the branch is, only much more symmetrical. Flowers.

"Red campion," Miss Justineau says, holding up a spray that's not red at all but sort of purple, each petal forked into two like the footprint of an animal in a tracking chart Melanie saw once.

"Rosemary." White fingers and green fingers, all laced together like your hands clasped together in your lap when you're nervous and you don't want to fidget.

"Daffodils." Yellow tubes like the trumpets angels blow in the old pictures in Miss Justineau's books, but with fringed lips so delicate they move when Miss Justineau breathes on them.

"Medlar." White spheres in dense clusters, each one made out of overlapping petals that are curved and nested on themselves, and open at one end to show something inside that looks like a tiny model of more flowers.

The children are hypnotised. It's spring in the classroom. It's equinox, with the world balanced between winter and summer, life and death, like a spinning ball balanced on the tip of someone's finger.

The ending was somewhat anticlimactic and I was left wanting more (perhaps there's a sequel in the works?), but overall it was a very good book. It's not for the faint of heart, but it will more than likely appeal to fans of The Walking Dead and Justin Cronin's Passage trilogy. I'm eager to see the movie, but after watching the trailer I know it will be something I'll want to watch on a weekend afternoon. I'm too easily scared and don't want to have nightmares!

M. R. Carey is a pen name for an established British writer of prose fiction and comic books. He has written for both DC and Marvel, including critically acclaimed runs on X-Men and Fantastic Four, Marvel’s flagship superhero titles. His creator-owned books regularly appear in the New York Times graphic fiction bestseller list. He also has several previous novels and one Hollywood movie screenplay to his credit.

The Age of Miracles

The Age of Miracles by Karen Thompson Walker
Fiction
2012 Random House
Finished on March 17, 2016
Rating: 4.5/5 (Very Good!)

Publisher’s Blurb:

Luminous and haunting, The Age of Miracles is an unforgettable debut novel about coming of age during extraordinary times, about people going on with their lives in an era of profound uncertainty.

On a seemingly ordinary Saturday in a California suburb, Julia and her family awake to discover, along with the rest of the world, that the rotation of the earth has suddenly begun to slow. The days and nights grow longer and longer, gravity is affected, the environment is thrown into disarray. Yet as she struggles to navigate an ever-shifting landscape, Julia is also coping with the normal disasters of everyday life—the fissures in her family, the loss of friends, the hopeful anguish of love. As Julia adjusts to the new normal, the slowing inexorably continues.

“A stunner from the first page.” ~ Justin Cronin

Daylight Savings Time remains a controversial topic here in the U.S., and while I hate to lose an hour of productivity (and sleep!) I do love the longer days of spring and summer. After dinner, my husband and I like to go for walks, bike rides or simply enjoy a cocktail on our front porch. Imagine, though, if our days suddenly shifted from 24 hours in length to 28 or 30, or even, as much as 48! Not only would the slowing of the earth’s rotation disrupt our normal sleep patterns and the normal routines of society (government, work, school, etc.), but it would also cause serious problems for the tides, plant life and the earth’s magnetic field. Karen Thompson Walker’s debut novel explores these situations, convincing this reader of the plausible outcome of such a disaster. Suffice it to say, I was just a little bit scared.

We didn’t notice right away. We couldn’t feel it.

We did not sense at first the extra time, bulging from the smooth edge of each day like a tumor blooming beneath skin.

We were distracted back then by weather and war. We had no interest in the turning of the earth. Bombs continued to explode on the streets of distant countries. Hurricanes came and went. Summer ended. A new school year began. The clocks ticked as usual. Seconds beaded into minutes. Minutes grew into hours. And there was nothing to suggest that those hours, too, weren’t still pooling into days, each the same fixed length known to every human being.

But there were those who would later claim to have recognized the disaster before the rest of us did. These were the night workers, the graveyard shifters, the stockers of shelves, and the loaders of ships, the drivers of big-rig trucks, or else they were the bearers of different burdens: the sleepless and the troubled and the sick. These people were accustomed to waiting out the night. Through bloodshot eyes, a few did detect a certain persistence of darkness on the mornings leading up to the news, but each mistook if for the private misperception of a lonely, rattled mind.

On the sixth of October, the experts went public. This, of course, is the day we all remember. There’d been a change, they said, a slowing, and that’s what we called it from then on: the slowing.

[…]

Our days had grown by fifty-six minutes in the night.

Since this novel is set in San Diego, I found myself reminiscing about my childhood. I moved to Southern California shortly after my 11th birthday, so not only did I relate to Julia’s experiences in sixth grade, but I recognized the locations to which Walker refers. As a matter of fact, if I were able to chat with the author, I’d love to see if I could guess her exact setting based on the details of her narrative. Like her protagonist, she grew up in San Diego and I can almost speculate where she spent her youth. I found it very easy to picture Julia and Seth hiking through the sage brush-filled canyons, heading toward the beach after hearing the news of a beached whale. I, too, have walked those canyons.

We were Californians and thus accustomed to the motions of the earth. We understood that the ground could shift and shudder. We kept batteries in our flashlights and gallons of water in our closets. We accepted that fissures might appear in our sidewalks. Swimming pools sometimes sloshed like bowls of water. We were well practiced at crawling beneath tabletops, and we knew to beware of flying glass. At the start of every school year, we each packed a large ziplock bag full of non-perishables in case The Big One stranded us at school. But we Californians were no more prepared for this particular calamity than those who had built their homes on more stable ground.

and

This was middle school, the age of miracles, the time when kids shot up three inches over the summer, when breasts bloomed from nothing, when voices dipped and dove. Our first flaws were emerging, but they were being corrected. Blurry vision could be fixed invisibly with the magic of the contact lens. Crooked teeth were pulled straight with braces. Spotty skin could be chemically cleared. Some girls were turning beautiful. A few boys were growing tall. I knew I still looked like a child.

On gravity:

We were living under a new gravity, too subtle for our minds to register, but our bodies were already subject to its sway. In the weeks that followed, as the days continued to expand, I would find it harder and harder to kick a soccer ball across a field. Quarterbacks found that footballs didn’t fly as far as they used to. Home run hitters slipped into slumps. Pilots would have to retrain themselves to fly. Every falling thing fell faster to the ground.

On snow in California:

“Holy shit,” said my mother in her green bathrobe.

I looked out the window: snow.

This was California, sea level, spring.

Five inches had fallen while we slept, and it was still snowing. Temperatures had been dropping further and further as each darkness stretched longer. Now the neighborhood shimmered, bluish in the moonlight: sugarcoated cars, fences frosted white, the terracotta roofs encrusted in snow. The sidewalks looked repaved. The artificial lawns had been swallowed whole overnight in one smooth sheet of clean, creamy white. Our street sparkled.

Seth showed up on my porch in a red ski parka I’d never seen before and a frayed knit cap, which sat crooked on his head. Snowflakes were melting on his shoulders.

“We have to go sledding,” he said. He held up the blue boogie board he’d carried down from his house. […]

We were beach kids, sunshine kids. We did not know the properties of snow. I had never seen it fall, never knew how soft if felt at first, how easily it collapsed beneath feet, or the particular sound of that crunch. I never knew until then that snow made everything quiet, somehow silencing all the world’s noise.

The Age of Miracles is not categorized as a Young Adult (YA) book, but it is a book I can recommend to teens as well as adults. It’s one I will recommend to book groups, as there are so many thought-provoking situations to discuss. How would you react to the longer days of sunlight and conversely, longer nights, as the darkness bleeds into the middle of what used to be mid-day? Would you try to stay on “clock time” or follow others who attempt to live in sync with the rising and setting of the sun, even if that means staying awake for two full days?

As I read the author’s conversation with Kate Medina (Random House Executive Vice President, Associate Publisher and Executive Editorial Director) I read Walker’s response to Medina’s question about her research, which is so realistically rendered. Walker says,

In general, I wanted my book to seem as real as possible. I recently read a Guardian interview with the Portuguese writer Jose Saramago, who said that his books were about “the possibility of the impossible.” He explained that even if the premise of a book seemed “impossible,” it was important to him that the development of that premise be logical and rational. That’s exactly the way I wanted The Age of Miracles to function.

Go figure! I loved Saramago’s novel, Blindness, which aroused a visceral fear similar to that of Walker’s catastrophic disaster in The Age of Miracles.

Final Thoughts:

I loved this book! Part coming-of-age, part dystopic thriller, I couldn’t read fast enough. In some ways, The Age of Miracles is a quiet novel. Unlike The Dog Stars (Peter Heller), The Fifth Wave (Rick Yancey) or The Passage (Justin Cronin), the central disaster of Walker’s magnificent story does not involve a pandemic or an attack on earth by aliens or zombies. Other than some aggression shown toward the “real-timers,” this isn’t a violent book. It’s the unknown that’s so terrifying. I highly recommend this compulsively readable and highly imaginative novel. I can’t wait to read another book by Karen Thompson Walker!

Station Eleven

Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel
Fiction
2014 Penguin Random House Audio Publishing Group
Read by Kirsten Potter
Finished on May 28, 2015
Rating: 2/5 (Meh)




A National Book Award Finalist
A PEN/Faulkner Award Finalist


Publisher's Blurb:

An audacious, darkly glittering novel set in the eerie days of civilization's collapse, Station Eleven tells the spellbinding story of a Hollywood star, his would-be savior, and a nomadic group of actors roaming the scattered outposts of the Great Lakes region, risking everything for art and humanity.

One snowy night Arthur Leander, a famous actor, has a heart attack onstage during a production of King Lear. Jeevan Chaudhary, a paparazzo-turned-EMT, is in the audience and leaps to his aid. A child actress named Kirsten Raymonde watches in horror as Jeevan performs CPR, pumping Arthur's chest as the curtain drops, but Arthur is dead. That same night, as Jeevan walks home from the theater, a terrible flu begins to spread. Hospitals are flooded and Jeevan and his brother barricade themselves inside an apartment, watching out the window as cars clog the highways, gunshots ring out, and life disintegrates around them.

Fifteen years later, Kirsten is an actress with the Traveling Symphony. Together, this small troupe moves between the settlements of an altered world, performing Shakespeare and music for scattered communities of survivors. Written on their caravan, and tattooed on Kirsten's arm is a line from Star Trek: "Because survival is insufficient." But when they arrive in St. Deborah by the Water, they encounter a violent prophet who digs graves for anyone who dares to leave.

Spanning decades, moving back and forth in time, and vividly depicting life before and after the pandemic, this suspenseful, elegiac novel is rife with beauty. As Arthur falls in and out of love, as Jeevan watches the newscasters say their final good-byes, and as Kirsten finds herself caught in the crosshairs of the prophet, we see the strange twists of fate that connect them all. A novel of art, memory, and ambition, Station Eleven tells a story about the relationships that sustain us, the ephemeral nature of fame, and the beauty of the world as we know it.

I love post-apocalyptic and dystopian tales, but Station Eleven was a disappointment. Had I not been listening to this on audio, I am fairly certain that it would have been a DNF. I only continued because I was curious to see how it would end. I am definitely in the minority, as I see most of my blogmates gave it five stars on Goodreads, but since it's been six months since I finished, I can't remember enough to tell you why it failed to entertain me (bad blogger!). Give it a try. Perhaps you'll have a better experience than I did.