Just kidding.

But I might.

No, he wasn’t angry that I was taking his picture, he actually requested the ‘bad-ass’ pose as opposed to the smiling and genial picture I took just before snapping this one. He mentioned something about not liking the fact that he falsely looked stoned in every other normal picture.  

The day I found out that Pat was going to be appearing at Pandemonium books in Cambridge, I IM’d my friend Lisa and asked her if she would accompany me to the signing. This is one of those things that you plan for, and while we only talked about it three days ago, it felt like it took forever for the day to arrive and it moved too quickly to an end.

We ate dinner at Blue in Newton, a restaurant I would later find out was half owned by Steven Tyler. Thankfully, there was an absence of Aerosmith music playing in the background. I ended up getting a Hawaiian fish dish that was incredibly filling and tasty. If I’m ever in the area again, this is definitely a restaurant that I’d visit a second time.

Braving the cold, we drove to the small bookstore in Cambridge, Massachusetts only to arrive a bit early in anticipation of a line. All in all with such a short announcement of his appearance, he drew about 30 people (updated to reflect a more accurate account) on a night when the temperature dipped below 10 degrees.

I can’t say enough good things about Pat. I got the feeling that he was a bit nervous when he began talking to the eager fans, but soon calmed down to read the prologue out of his book, “The Name of the Wind.”

After he was finished, he then took questions, of which there were many. After taking a break, he then asked the crowd if they wanted him to read from the satirical college “advice” book or some poetry, and while I personally would have treasured the poems, the others made it clear they were looking for some laughs.

After a few more rounds of queries, we then ended with lining up to sign some books. This is where I turn to mush. While I maintain my utter warmth and friendliness, any articulate train of thought seems to fly out the window when I meet someone that I admire.

I shook his hand, introduced myself, and thanked him for coming out, to which he then replied, “I know you.” He rubbed his beard and tapped his lips, pointing again, “You look familiar.”

I snapped a glance back at Lisa, completely frightened and flattered at the same time, and I shrugged. “I don’t think we’ve met before, but a lot of people say that to me for some reason.” We then both shrugged it off, figuring that I had one of those friendly, girl-next-door, memorable faces.

I think he recognized my name from the letter I wrote him thanking him for the book, and the small fact that we hung out on Scalzi’s Whateveresque, but I was not prepared for the “You look familiar” comment. Convinced there is a billboard in every city with my picture on it that mysteriously flips out of focus whenever I drive by, I stammered more or less through my all too brief time with Pat.

“It really is a wonderful book. I had a wonderful time reading it.” At the redundant adjective, my logical brain immediately fought for control over the ‘deer-in-headlights’ emotional side and started criticizing my lack of proper description. I really need to train myself in not looking like an ass in front of important people.

In all seriousness though, Pat is the genuine article. He is warm, funny, friendly and extremely articulate. Although he lamented that his reading sucked, I found him to be extremely soothing on the ears. There are some people who shouldn’t utter a word of their own works, but Pat got it done with a professional yet loving caress a mother  shows her baby.

He loves his own work and that, ladies and gentlemen, is what makes his story so poignant and magical.

Regardless, enough blathering. After 3 1/2 hours on the road, round trip, I’m tired. I may sound like an idiot right now and won’t realize it until the morning. Oh well. Needless to say, if you ever have an opportunity to meet this wonderful individual, I highly recommend it. You’ll have a wonderful time.

Dammit.

*Lisa and Pat at Pandemonium.

I wrote a thank you note to Mr. Rothfuss this evening after finishing the 662 page fantasy novel. While I may have mentioned to a few authors in passing how much I like their books, I don’t think I’ve ever written a thank you note before.

Coming off my Harry Potter high during the summer, I dreaded going back to fantasy for awhile. In fact, while I picked up the novel back in early September, I didn’t start reading until Christmas Day. I had even sent a note of congratulations to Pat right as he received his first award for the first in the Kingkiller trilogy; telling him earnestly that I hadn’t opened the cover.

I’ve since been banging my head against the nearest piece of wood asking myself the terrible question, “WHY? Why did I wait so long to read this?”

If you’re thinking about picking up this novel for a future read, I would actually encourage you to drop anything you’re doing at the moment and go buy this book. As I mentioned in my note of gratitude, there is a wisdom in this story that you don’t necessarily find in fantasy these days. There are a couple of passages that I wish I had discovered before dropping money on therapy. As I stated to Pat, some of the lessons and anecdotes in the book read better than any factual self-help book out there and we’re talking of a mythical land with fictional characters.

I don’t know from where Mr. Rothfuss pulled the tragedy, love and insight, but all I can tell you is that this book gets my vote for best of the year. While it’s size might be daunting, it will easily suck you in and all you can do is put your hands in the air as the roller coaster starts.

Well done.

To any peeps in the Boston area that are reading this: Patrick will be at a signing at Pandemonium in Boston at 7:00 p.m. on January 3rd. I will be there with bells on.

The 210 page book was a breeze to read, but I fear it was not one of my favorites. I can imagine the influence it may have over someone younger;  as one of the main themes impresses that there is always something bigger out there. In this case, the ‘out there’ is the all encompassing universe outside of a massive ship. The entire population of the craft is lead to believe that the ship is all there is. It is effectively, their whole world. ’Jordan’ is their new God and their ’scriptures’ speak of throwing anyone different into their only power supply; the converter.

Have a big head? Guess what? You’re going into the fires head first. I think the overall distressing part of the book is that despite the technology to travel to other worlds, something happens upon this ship that sends humanity back into the days of Sparta. Back in the times of phalanx fighting and crimson capes, if your infant was not strong enough or presented any physical defect, they were thrown off a cliff to their deaths. While this may propagate the more viable DNA in the long run, that horrid act goes against the moral fibers of our core existence; known more commonly as compassion for our fellow men and women. Some of those “muties” as Heinlein calls them in the book, do escape and form their own disjointed and ostracised community in the ships lower gravitational levels. Yet he writes them as cannibals who steal children, the occasional grazing cow and even butcher themselves to stay alive.

I was also concerned that Heinlein chose to kill off some of the more important muties at the end of the book, and while their deaths could be considered valiant, he never impressed upon the readers that these were a people capable of civilization. They were exactly what the ‘normals’ had described; a grotesque menagerie incapable of organization or civility.

In previous stories, Heinlein has drawn rich women characters as well, and I’m sorry to say that in “Orphans of the Sky”, along with the backward thinking of his “civilized” society, women are deemed less important and even knocked around when they step out of line. It illustrates a point that as complex as humans are; Heinlein’s future vision in the face of adversity is backwards and scary.

All in all, it’s not a bad book, I just didn’t enjoy it as much as I did others such as “Starship Troopers” or “The Moon is a Harsh Mistress.”

Oh, and whomever drew the cover for the Baen book, needs to be thrown into the converter as well. He obviously didn’t read the book when he was coloring between the lines.

I’m not going to get into the specifics of the book, nor am I going to give you some trumped-up professional review. It’s approximately 11:57 p.m. and like one of the heroes at the end of this book, I’m very tired and worn out. Unfortunately, I don’t have any “Wake-the-dead” stimulants lying around as I must have left them in my other combat suit.

In all the science fiction that I’ve read over the last year and a half, Ringo has proudly displayed one of the biggest battle scenes to date. While a very compelling story, there are only two small points that bothered me on a writing level.

I’m relatively new to hard science fiction and military history. Like peanut butter and chocolate, these aforementioned things can go quite well together. However, for someone just starting out, I guess I need a crash course in proper rankings and decorum. I’ve heard stories from my father when he was in Vietnam, and I know basic terminology (i.e. NCO etc..) but like a game of poker, I have no idea which rank ultimately trumps the rest.

Consider me part of the “New Comprehensible”. While I don’t want things dumbed down for me, I wish writers would get the hint that a nice little page full of descriptions would be quite handy in the really heavy literary works. I don’t want to stop to look up terms on Google or Wikipedia while I’m reading. If it’s a good book, I’m going to try to get through it as not to break my pace.

The only other thing that bothered me was the weird alien perspectives at the end. Ringo is pretty consistent throughout the book with his key players. You rarely get introduced to anyone new and develop quite a fondness for his richly drawn characters. However in the heat of battle, he introduces first person (or should I say first alien) perspective and it just pulls you right out of the moment.

You are suddenly dealing with words and phrases that have absolutely no meaning or explanation, and while I believe it’s up to the reader to ultimately draw creative conclusions to many things, this is Ringo’s world. He needs to explain, define and introduce things in a manner that is not so jarring.

The only other thing I found frustrating was on a purely emotional level. Humanity is screwed if it comes down to this type of scenario. I think perhaps John Ringo has given humanity too much of a chance with such unbeatable odds described in his plot. In the end, while the few brave will stand, I believe that the rest of humanity will flee with their only possessions and live the rest of their short lives in utter gluttony and greed.

It’s a shame, cause I kinda liked living on Earth. Hopefully, we won’t be invaded by any Posleen in the near future.

Great job, John Ringo. I can’t wait to see what happens next. Oh, and from what I understand, Ringo is ex spec-ops. With a sincere and heartfelt extension; “Thank you for serving and fighting for my freedom.”