Armada by Ernest Cline - A Review

Greetings Starfighter!

Earnest Cline’s stock in trade is his geek cred and nerd-dom.  He’s a card carrying member of everything dork-worthy and pop-culture related from the late 70s science fiction/fantasy/gaming era forward.  In his debut novel, “Ready Player One”, this DeLorean-driving master wove together that tapestry of geek-chic trivia, first-hand experience and scifi speculation to create a wonderful bit of wish fulfillment.  With “Armada”, Cline dips back into that well, answering the what-if that every game console player has secretly—or not so secretly—wished: What if this is real?  What if I’m being trained to fight actual alien invaders?

Cline’s story introduces us to the story of Zach Lightman, and his merry band of gamer misfits who are gonna save the world.  Zach, a modern teen with more than one foot square in the 80s/90s era of entertainment, has been selected, along with most of the planet, by the Star League-like Earth Defense Alliance because of his impressive skills to fend off the “evil” armada of the Europan invasion.  The threat had been kept secret from the public, but was sprinkled on our collective subconscious over the decades so that if/when the time came, Earth could join together as one species and stave off annihilation.

As with “Ready Player One”, Cline is able to craft some excellent primary characters.  As our guide into this “what-if” fantasy, Zach is the most rounded and accessible.  The problem comes from the supporting and secondary characters, who seem interesting, but aren’t given any time to really develop.  Where Cline was able to pull the trick of making real-seeming characters on the barest of information, here the lack of details flops.  Readers almost would have been better off with fewer, but more rounded characters that we could have gotten behind, while having more cardboard extras fill in the background.

The timeline of the story is set on fast-forward, with the major action taking place over a few dozen hours.  This feels like a miss opportunity, where Cline could have really drawn together the myth and mystery of his aliens and their motives, while at the same time giving us a real sense of camaraderie and joy/loss with each success or failure.  There is almost no time for the reader to really connect with anyone beyond Zach, which limits Cline’s potential audience.

Overall, “Armada” is a wonderful addition to the Cline library, and readers will not be disappointed as the newest Duke of Fanboy’s effort delivers everything that was promised.  While not quite up to the same bar of “Ready Player One”, “Armada” is a quick, clean and easy read with a fun jazz riff on classic science fiction tropes.  Eagerly awaiting Cline’s next effort for another dive into his world.

Secret Project—Revealed

Lengthen your stride and quicken your pace!

I can’t even tell you have excited I am.  Last week, I announced a “secret project” with really wasn’t that much of a secret if you paid attention.  But for those who are new, I set out to build a replacement of the bookmark I lost.  The idea came to me after I finished working on my son’s storybook.  For that, I’d taken to Fiverr.com and found an artist whose work was in line with what I was trying to create.  I had a wonderful experience, and the whole project came together so well that I returned to Fiverr and found another artist to handle this project.

As I crafted the message to the artist I’d selected see if the project was doable, I started searching for an image the approximated what I was trying to recreate.  I was only looking for an image that was similar enough, and then I hoped the artist could create the graphic I was looking for.  My search for “gnome with book” turned up a listing on eBay for some bookplates with THE GNOME.  Not just any gnome—THE GNOME!

Where, previously, I’d been pleased by the concept of the project and the potential final outcome, now I was FREAKING OVERJOYED!  I quickly tracked down the bookplates, purchased them, attached the image and waited.  After I’d chewed all my fingernails off and started on the toes, I received a response from the artist, and we were off!

His final reproduction and coloring of the image was pretty spot-on as far as I’m concerned.  Obviously, I don’t recall the exact details, but this project started out merely trying to create a reasonable replacement.  The image that I received matches the one in my memory, and that’s good enough for me.  That I now have the actual image (plus bookplates!) is an order of magnitude more than I had imagined.

Sometimes, it’s really great to live in the digital age.

If anyone is interesting in owning one, send me a message.  I’ll have about 20 extra and I’d be happy to share!  Here's the graphic of the bookmark.  The final will include a beautiful, dark green tassel.

A Victorian Birthday and Mementos Mori—Guest Blog from Ash Krafton

The Victorian Era is steeped in traditions. Anything that flew in the face of tradition was shunned, cursed, and outcast. Tradition provided vital foundation, the legs upon which society stood. 

Traditions embellished every moment in life. One such tradition was the celebration of birthdays. Considering this month marks the book birthday for THE HEARTBEAT THIEF, you might expect a post on birthdays. Right? Anecdotes about parties and pastries and pretty ribbons and…

…no. Just—no.

On one hand, THE HEARTBEAT THIEF *is* pretty on the outside, like a birthday party. Beautiful and beribboned and sweet as strawberries and cream. But what is a birthday if not all about victory over death? And, deep within, that is what Senza Fyne’s tale is all about.

She is, after all, the Forever Girl. Death’s Estranged. Endless. She stopped celebrating birthdays when she learned how to steal immortality. Eventually, there was only one day she marked each year: her Unbirthing Day.

So just think about all the lovely traditions she missed out on when it came to her death. The Victorians were morbidly fascinated with death and went to great lengths to mark the occasion.

Senza could not die. She denied her loved ones so many opportunities…

No one would stop the clocks or draw all the curtains, to dwell in sad, shadowy silence.

No one would post elegantly written funeral notes of invitation.

No one would stand watch over her body, every moment from death to interment (which could take three to four days to allow family to arrive).

No one would arrange flowers around her body to mask the signs of decay.

No final death portraits, with falsely life-like poses, cosmetically-created rosy cheeks, or painted pupils in propped-open eyes.

No hair trinkets. No one would trim her winter-fire red locks and weave the tresses into rings or bracelets or brooches to wear as mourning jewelry.

No one would wear mourning for her, deep black crinoline with heavy veils and dark jet jewels. Instead, those would be her own disguise, hiding the eternal freshness of her beautiful cheeks from her aging loved ones and she sneaked like a thief through the pages of time.

No drapes upon the mirrors to prevent them from enticing her soul to enter, only to become trapped for all of wretched eternity.

No black crape hung around the doorknobs to announce the tragedy of her passing, reminding callers to avoid ringing.

No elaborate funeral procession, aristocratic and stately, with plumes and pallbearers, a hearse trimmed in white to lament the passing of one so young.

No strings tied to her finger, connecting her to coffin bells above her grave. No dead-ringers, graveyard shifts, or being saved by the bell.

See what I meant when I said the Victorians were just a little on the morbid side? Bereavement, you see, was generally the order of the day, even when there was no one to bury, because life was fragile and brief and all too often lost in the blink of an eye.

Senza Fyne would not die. Mr. Knell had worked his dark spell on her and removed her from the march of time, placing her far beyond the decayed grasp of Death. Although the Ferryman would not come for her, she was forced to watch each and everyone around her succumb to the ravages of life’s bittersweet ending.

Shadows cluttered her heart, each and every day that she went forth, beautiful and young and free of what frightened her most. She could not die.

But in that, she very nearly forgot how to live.

You can read Senza Fyne’s dark tale and take that long walk with her. See what she sees, experience what she felt as she stood still, a statue in a fast-growing, fast-wilting, ever-changing garden.

This week until June 26^th, THE HEARTBEAT THIEF ebook will be $0.99!

Find it at any of these retailers:

Amazon US | Amazon CA | Amazon UK 

Amazon FR | Amazon DE

Kobo Apple Smashwords  Barnes and Noble

About the author: Ash Krafton

Ash Krafton writes New Adult speculative fiction under the pen name AJ Krafton. In addition to THE HEARTBEAT THIEF, Ash is also the author of a growing list of poetry, short stories, and urban fantasy novels.

Currently, she’s working on a new series, THE DEMON WHISPERER. First book, CHARM CITY, can be found on Wattpad.com where you can read it free. Find it here: CHARM CITY on Wattpad.com

Find more to love at www.ashkrafton.com

Follow Ash at:

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Living Life

Skydiving? You mean jumping out of a perfectly good plane!

Happy Friday.  My friend Dave posted this up, and it seemed like an interesting list to check off things from.  I’ll play along.  If you want the story on anything, just ask.  I’ll consider it:

Been Married *

Been divorced

Fell in love *

Gone on a blind date *

Skipped school *

Watched someone give birth *

Watched someone die

Been to Canada *

Ridden in an ambulance *

Been to Hawaii

Been to Europe *

Been to Las Vegas *

Been to Washington D.C *

Been to Nashville

Visited Florida

Visited Mexico *

Seen the Grand Canyon in person*

Flown in a helicopter

Been on a cruise

Served on a jury

Been in a movie

Danced in the rain *

Been to Los Angeles *

Been to New York City

Played in a band

Sang karaoke *

Laughed so much you cried *

Written a book *

Caught a snowflake on your tongue *

Had children *

Had a pet(s)*

Been sledding on big hill *

Been downhill skiing

Been water skiing

Rode on a motorcycle *

Traveled to all 50 states

Jumped out of a plane

Been to a drive-in movie *

Rode an elephant *

Rode a Horse *

Been on TV

Been in the newspaper*

Stayed in the Hospital *

Donated blood*

Gotten a piercing

Gotten a tattoo *

Driven a stick shift vehicle *

Lived on your own *

Rode in the back of a police car *

Got a speeding ticket *

Broken a bone

Gotten stitches

Traveled Alone *

You’re welcome to steal this and post it to your blog, Facebook or whatever.  Happy Friday!

Some Notes on Guns

Deadpool.  You either love it, or you're wrong.

Let’s get some stuff out of the way first.  Personally, I heart guns.  Deadpool was easily one of the best shoot-em-up super “hero” movies of the year, if not the decade. It opened with an exquisite orgy of gun violence and death that is both memorable and will be hard to parallel.  I love modern, vintage and archaic guns.  I'd love to have a replica of Wyatt Earp's famous Buntline Special on my wall right next to a Brown Bess and a Winchester 1866.  I enjoy shooting gun at targets.  I especially love to research and write about them.  If you've read my books, you can see I take great care to accurately portray weapons and their use.

I am, however, very much in favor of gun control.  I know.  That’s like being wrapped up in a nice, warm, friendly blanket that hugs you, but never makes you sweat and then having an ice water deluge poured down on you with the fury of ten-thousand frozen waterfalls.  Sorry about that.  Also, this position is not open for debate. That’s not what this article is about.

This position is not open for debate.

That's not what this article is about.

I hope those two points are clear.

Over the past few days, I’ve found myself educating more “gun control” folk than should be necessary.  Hopefully, this will shed some light on a sorely needed area that seems vastly misunderstood.  Gun control folk, if you really want to make meaningful change, you need to understand guns.  It would help if you’ve shot a few, but at the very least, please, please, please educate yourself.  Ignorance is as much a problem for the lack of change as the folk actively working against change.

When we appear ignorant (not stupid, just not educated on the facts) our arguments are easily hand-waved away.  If you know this stuff, then great.  Move along and continue the good work.  If you don't, please take three minutes to read to the bottom and then go do some more research.  It will only benefit all of us in the long run.

Reading—It's what matters.

First, let’s understand what an “assault-style” rifles is versus an “assault rifle”.  They are two different things.  The AR-15 (AR stands for ArmaLite, not “automatic rifle”—that’s the company who first designed the AR-15) and similar termed "assault-style" rifles are semi-automatic weapons that have "scary" bits attached to them.  They do not make the weapon any more dangerous than any other long rifle.  A flash-suppressor doesn’t make the bullets bigger, shoot further, or fire at a faster rate.  A pistol-grip and bayonet lugs do not give the weapon a superior ability to kill over other semi-automatic rifles.  Thus, the AR-15 is no more dangerous than any Remington .223 long rifle.  You pull the trigger once, and only one bullet is fired.

Assault weapons, like the M16 which the AR-15 is based on, are defined as being able to go fully automatic.  Fully automatic obviously makes a weapon shoot much faster with the single pull of a trigger.  This puts more lead into the air which is inherently more dangerous for humans who enjoy breathing.  As such, assault weapons have been banned from public ownership since the 1930s under the National Firearms Act.  Only the military can have fully-automatic weapons. 

That said, some semi-automatic rifles can be turned into full-automatics if you know what you’re doing.  It is mostly illegal, but that’s not part of this piece and not germane to the discussion.

Now, “assault-style” weapons like the AR-15 were banned (sort of) from 1994 to 2004 under the Federal Assault Weapons Ban.  The data that we have from before, during and after the ban shows that it was wholly ineffective.  This is not to say that assault-style weapons found their way into criminal hands and were used to commit horrific acts.  They were not.  Instead, assault-style weapons were not used in any meaningful way to commit crimes such that banning them or not banning them made any sense.  In short, the “scary” looking guns were removed, and it didn’t make a lick of difference.

What everyone should understand is that all firearms are dangerous.  They are meant to do

Maybe this time?

one thing—kill.  The data on shootings shows that the majority of deaths and injuries (unintentional or intentional) are committed with handguns.  If we want to look at meaningful legislation that would reduce death and injury from firearms, it should from the facts and move forward—not knee-jerk reactions to traumatic events.  Those events only underline the need for change.

The take-away here is that banning "assault-style" weapons will do next to nothing.  It will probably feel like a victory to some people, but overall it would be smoke and mirrors meant only to placate. Meaningful change can be had, but it will take both sides understanding that any death or injury from firearms is almost wholly preventable.  We, as a nation, did NOTHING after Sandy Hook, except watch those little coffins being lowered into the ground, or the subsequent hundreds of other shootings, and thousands of other injuries that have taken place since.

Maybe today is that day.

Game of Thrones- Redux

Mountain-stein? The Golem Who Rides?

All caught up on Game of Thrones?  Ready for some interesting responses?  If not, be warned, there be light spoilers ahead!

Are you warned?

Warned?

Ok then.  I’ve been really enjoying the recent season.  As the television show is beyond George R.R. Martin’s books, I know they’re hitting the plot elements that Martin has dictated, but I feel like the production has missed some of the poignancy that is had before.  The story is moving along at a good clip, and everything seems to be lining up for some stunning seventh season action.  Overall, my complaints are small, but I did feel they missed a great visual opportunity with the recent Gregor Clegane/The Mountain Who Growls fatality scene.

Sure, Clegane is big, and he’s . . . I guess scary.  We haven’t seen him do anything until this latest episode.  Mostly, he’s been a giant menace, but not much more.  The show attempts to drive home the point of his renewed scariness by having him literally tear a man’s head off.  But that seems anticlimactic given the potential that was in the scene.

Here’s my quick, five-minute attempt to restore that epic feel:

Cersei peered at the Faith Militant.  “I choose violence.”

Brother Lancel smiled.  Gregor Clegane moved forward and drew his sword.  The eight, armed members of the Faith Militant surged around him.  Mace and hammer rained blows down, and the giant’s sword clattered to the ground.  The Mountain ignored the weapon and the strikes that clanged from his golden armor.  He grabbed the nearest brother, and slammed his helmeted head down in a crushing blow.  The man staggered back and fell to the ground unconscious.

Still, the Faith Militant kept up the barrage.  One of the brothers managed to drive a spiked club into Clegane’s armor where it stuck deep.  It should have pierced his heart.  Instead, Clegane hammered his huge fist down on the man’s head.  The brother fell to the ground in a silent heap.  Two warhammers slammed into Clegane’s chest, and the giant took a half step backward, grabbed the two men, and slammed their heads together.

With half their number down, Lancel and the remaining Faith Militant moved back, out of his reach.  Clegane surged forward.  A mace clanged uselessly off his shoulder.  He backhanded the owner, throwing him against the near wall.  The brother’s head impacted with a wet sound and left a trail of blood as he slid to the ground.  Without waiting, Clegane grabbed a second brother, and drove his knee into the man’s chest three times in quick succession.  Blood spewed from the brother’s mouth, and Clegane let him fall to the ground.

Lancel and the last remaining brother looked at each other.  The faith of their conviction had been replaced by fear of Clegane’s brutality.  No man should be able to stand up to eight strong.  With a growl that sounded more animal than man, Clegane started forward.  Lancel and the last brother struck at the same time, smashing their maces against Clegane’s head and chest.  The Mountain grabbed the brother’s weapon and pulled him in.  His fist clenched around the brother’s neck, and he lifted the man off his feet.

“Brother Lancel,” Cersei said as she strode forward.  Lancel looked from the gasping brother in Clegane’s one hand to Cersei and back again.  “Do tell the High Sparrow that he is welcome any time.”

Clegane slammed the brother down onto the ground.  He took hold of the man’s neck and in one swift movement tore it from his shoulders.

Brother Lancel ran.

The old saw is that it takes five writers to change a lightbulb—one to change it and four to say they could have done it better.

Monday You Can Fall Apart

There's a gnome who knows what he's about!

Most of us with young kids haven’t had a good nights sleep in, well, forever.  In my case, it’s been about nine years.  From about the time my wife was pregnant with our first son and right through last night as well.

My family is off in Salt Lake City at the NSDA National Speech Tournament.  This means that I can do one of my favorite things—clean the house.  What’s so great about this is that for at least this week, the house will actually stay clean.  Pillows and throw blankets won’t be turned into forts; Legos won’t be turned into a landmine obstacle course; shoes won’t become tripping hazards.

Alright, fine.  I miss my family!

I did think that I could sneak off to bed early last night and get a decent amount of sleep.

As Lana, from Archer would say, “NOOOOOPE!”

My sleep was so poor that I woke up late and had to forgo shaving this morning to make it to work on time.  I’m tired, sore and tired.  Also, I’m tired.

Happy Monday!