Gyan

5/5 🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟 stars!

Revisado: 04-27-25

I had not expected to like Larry McMurtry’s conclusion to the story as much as the original Lonesome Dove had moved me. I was wrong. My enjoyment of the story was not any less than LD. I loved it just as much and in some parts I relished the story probably even more. The story moved like the winds on the plains. In Streets of Laredo, life shifts quick, like a horse at full gallop. The story twists and turns, showing how love and loss shape folks. Each page speaks of care—deep, real care—for those we hold close.

Stories with head hopping POVs don’t generally work for me but McMurtry makes the head hopping work effectively and smoothly, shifting perspective cleanly and quickly without making it seem jarring. He truly does inhabit the character completely which makes it a real treat to see life from one character’s eyes and then, in the very next sentence or paragraph, observe and reflect on an event from another characters eyes. This kind of writing that “opens your eyes” and provides immense perspective and empathy to leave its mark on the soul would probably not be possible otherwise. I wonder.

The parts that I really loved had to do with some characters that were carried over from LD and also some new characters that he introduced.
“It did seem to Famous Shoes that they resembled certain tracks, such as the track of the centipede, or of certain delicate birds who skimmed the water’s edge for their prey.”
“They’re words, not tracks, you damn Indian!”
“..he wanted to learn badly about the tracks in books.”

What was not different was how the story lays bare how starkly fickle life is. The book paints the raw truth of life. Days are fragile, dreams often dashed, but bonds shine through the dust and heat. McMurtry's words cut deep, though simple. He doesn't use or need big words to leave his mark. It's a story with grit, heart, and punch—a yarn spun fine.

The story gets pretty grim in parts, with very dark threads, but in the mix I found a kind of beauty. It tells of life lived in full. It sticks with you, just like the tracks carved in the soil.

Narration was not as lovely as Lonesome Dove but it was on point and pretty good!

Has calificado esta reseña.

Reportaste esta reseña

4.75 🌟🌟🌟🌟💫stars!

Revisado: 04-27-25

Dark Tower III: The Wastelands was dark and bold. I was pleasantly surprised by how the story wove fear, quest, and fate into a gritty and thrilling joyride. It explored themes of decay, choice, bonds, and found family. I absolutely adored the animal companion, a very pleasant surprise indeed! Gunslinger Roland fights old foes and meets strange friends forging deep bonds. His path twists as riddles loom large, trains plot ruin, and the world nears its end.

The story comes alive with King's craft. I did not feel I was reading a storybook. I came out of the story feeling like I had watched a movie! An action packed thriller, a quest, an adventure, a western that was also full of horror, a sci fi, and a fantasy. The air seemed to hum with dread as the scenes breathed grit and heat, each frame thick with shades of gloom. Towns crumbled; lands twisted in ways that stunned and scared. Dreams pulsed through cracks in reality and illusion.

I was tickled to see King toy with time, hint deep truths, and build a space where thought and heart clash. It was grim, it was very dark, raw, and bold, and yet the story was full of heart. King wove the threads tight, each piece linked to the last, no waste nor stray.

I loved the characters. More importantly, I liked them. King started out in drawing of the three introducing us to characters who were deplorable and not very likable. But they were very compelling and I wanted to know what happens to them. It was satisfying to see their growth and evolution into a found family.

King’s work shows care: each stroke fine-tuned, each word shaped to twist or heal. It spoke to the side of me that seeks depth, but warned that its path burns. King's voice held strong in this tale of doom, with sharp plots and deep tones that pull. The style is raw yet rich, each line thick with thrill.

The story sparked both fear and thought. This book was one wild trip. King stirred with words that bite hard and linger long. It is a fierce slice of dark lore.

The reader modulated his voice to suit each character and it was easy to tell who was talking. Loved the narration!

Has calificado esta reseña.

Reportaste esta reseña

4/5 🌟🌟🌟🌟 stars!!

Revisado: 04-06-25

Servant of the Empire felt deep yet sharp. This book is the second in a grand set by Jenny Wurts and Raymond E. Feist. Mara, continues to shine with her grit and brains. The way she grew from a pawn in the game of power to a key force felt bold and rich.

What I particularly enjoyed was the stranger- in-a-strange-land vibe that was quite similar to Shogun. Servant of the Empire shares thematic threads with Shōgun by James Clavell, as both delve into alien cultures, identity, and adaptation. In Shōgun, an Englishman Blackthorn is thrust into feudal Japan, grappling with its intricate societal norms. In Servant of the Empire, Mara’s slave, Kevin, must navigate the rigid and often treacherous traditions of the Tsurani world, a culture distinct and complex from his own . Each story immerses its characters in unfamiliar, layered worlds, highlighting the friction and enrichment that come from such encounters.

Kevin's candid demeanor and refusal to fully assimilate challenge Mara’s belief system, forging a deep, transformative connection. Not dissimilar to Blackthorne's journey with Mariko that had a similar emotional arc.

Mara is stuck in a world where rules are hard, set in stone, and traps are plenty. Folks plot, lie, and fight for gold and power. She must think fast to outwit foes and keep her kin safe. The story gripped me tight, with twists that hit like a storm. It kept the heart beating fast as one plan led to a clash and one win sparked ten more battles.

The world felt bright, full of sights and sounds that pulled me in. The rules of the land felt clear yet tough, and this book dove deep into what makes power thrive and break. The clash of minds, not just blades, made the tale feel grand. I was cheering for Mara, not just for her wins but for the way she learns and grows. She is wise yet kind, shrewd yet fair.

This book takes a deep dive into the thirst for power, rulers’ need for dominance, and it is a gem. The way folks play their cards in this tale felt like chess—each move smart and bold. Yet, it’s not just a tale of brains. It’s full of heart too. Bonds, love, loss—all of it flows strong in these pages. Mara’s world took me on a ride where might is less than wit and rules hold all the keys.

Has calificado esta reseña.

Reportaste esta reseña

4.75 stars! 🌟🌟🌟🌟💫

Revisado: 04-03-25

Excalibur is spun with care like a rich tapestry. It sings of honor, war, and fate, and paints a world where faith wavers and gods seem far. At its heart lies Excalibur, a sword of lore, and what it stirs in men’s hearts.

The tale winds through the life of Derfel, a man of grit and depth and honor. Derfel tells of Arthur, a man torn between two paths—one of peace and one of war. Arthur, bound in self inflicted oaths, seeks a land of calm, yet he must fight foes both near and far. Cornwell shows Arthur not as a god, but as a man with flaws, fears, and hopes.

The prose cuts sharp, its pace swift, with hues of joy, grief, and loss, clear and bold. The clash of swords rings loud, the cries of men linger, and the cold grip of death feels near. In times of calm, the warmth of hearths and bonds of kin soothe the weary soul.

The land has character with moods and whims. The fields are lush, and wars leave scars on earth and soul alike. Derfel tells of toil and truth, of peace that has a cost and truths hard to bear.

In this final book was where I, as a reader, felt that there was actually magic. That it wasn’t just the people of that time that thought that magic was real. Guinevere and Nimue come into their own and live their truths. The tussle between paganism and Christianity is seen not just in people’s actions, politicking between nations, but also evident in their words, superstitions, prayers, and thoughts.

Excalibur is not just a tale of war; it is one of men, their dreams, and what they hold dear. It asks us what we fight for and what we leave when we are gone. Much like Derfel’s words, this book is a mirror to life. Its truths linger, deep and still, long after the tale is told.

The reader is excellent !

Has calificado esta reseña.

Reportaste esta reseña

3.5 stars 🌟🌟🌟💫!

Revisado: 03-02-25

“Dollmakers" by Lynn Buchanan is a tale set in the land of One, where dollmakers hold great power. The story follows Shean and Ikiisa, two characters that are hard to like.

Shean is a skilled dollmaker, but she is cold and stern. She cares more for her dolls than for real people. Her past is full of pain, and she hides it well. Shean's pride and harsh ways make her hard to root for.

Ikiisa is a guard dollmaker, reclusive and quiet. She has faced years of hurt and feels small and invisible. Ikiisa struggles to stand up for herself. Her timid nature makes her seem weak, though she has a kind heart.

I wonder if the author was inspired by teenaged children in her own life because she was able to write two really unlikeable and tortured girl characters with a fair amount of realism. Their awkwardness, emotional outbursts, inward reclusiveness, inferiority complex, pride, anger, anxiety are all emotions you will see and feel on these pages with these girls. I was not a fan of these girls, being a father to two, albeit much nicer and confident, teenagers myself. Buchanan showcases the worst behavior in both these girls. Obviously redemption comes in the end but I felt tortured throughout the story.

The plot moves with slow steps, each page a peek into their dark world. The dolls they make seem more real, more human than they do. The tale dives deep into their lives, full of pain and hurt.

There is a borderline horror element but nothing too scary, as you might imagine with dolls that come alive.

Dollmakers’ flaws make them real, but clearly hard to love. This adds to the tale’s depth, but also its chill. "Dollmakers" is a grim and stark read with unlikeable main cast.

Has calificado esta reseña.

Reportaste esta reseña

esto le resultó útil a 2 personas

4.25/5 🌟🌟🌟🌟 💫 stars!

Revisado: 02-23-25

In "House of Assassins" by Larry Correia, the story picks up where we left it in the Son of the black sword. Ashok Vadal, a high caste Protector, upheld the Law with his sentient blade, Angruvadal. But Ashok's world turned upside down when he learned about his true place in their society, becoming a pawn in a grand scheme. Now, he fights against the very system he once served.

In this installment, Correia takes us deeper into Thera’s story, and we learn about her motivations and character. Thera, a prophet with the power to see beyond the present, is held captive by a wizard, and Ashok, along with the Sons of the Black Sword, marches through the land of Lok to rescue her.

Lok is cold and full of strife, and rich in lore and danger. Without his magic blade, Ashok must rely on his skill and determination. The Ashok's quest takes him through ice and war. Each step felt like a test, each foe a trial. The bonds he makes are strong, each one a thread in his fate. The unraveling of Ashok’s inner strife with himself, his guilt and dilemma, is fun to watch.

Something has to be said about the action scenes that are just awesome. I visualized everything like I was watching a movie.

The Indian inspiration was kind in your face. The names of people and places, the ancient words, the people’s clothing and mannerisms, the excesses and exigencies of the caste system, the world building, were all obviously Indian. That said, Correia makes it work.

The reading by Tim Gerard Reynolds is perfect. The best part is that I can speed up the narration without losing fidelity and comprehension.

An immensely entertaining read.

Has calificado esta reseña.

Reportaste esta reseña

4.5 stars! 🌟🌟🌟🌟⭐️

Revisado: 02-04-25

“Blackwater: The Complete Saga” by Michael McDowell is a rich, gripping tale set in the heart of Alabama. I don’t know if I loved the story because it was so good, which it definitely was, or if my love for Alabama had something to do with it. Having lived in Alabama for several years, having raised my kids there, having breathed the varied landscape, the trees, the swamps, the magnolias, the people, the food. This epic spans from the early 1900s to the mid-century, weaving a story that is both grand and personal.

The saga tells of the Caskey family in the small town of Perdido. The dark and deep river is a character as any of the people. Elinor Dammert, a mysterious woman with ties to the water, marries into the Caskey clan, bringing with her secrets that ripple through the multiple generations whose stories are told in the backdrop of the river - yes the river, whose presence is felt throughout, shaping events and fates.

McDowell writes with a keen eye for detail, his prose as clear as McCammon’s, each word carefully chosen with precision. The story flows through calm and storm, joy and sorrow. His style is simple and captures the essence of the time and place.

The mood is often tense, filled with a sense of foreboding. There is beauty too, in the small moments of life, in the bonds of family. McDowell balances light and dark, hope and fear, in a way that keeps you turning the pages.

At its heart, the saga is about family, power, and the secrets we keep. It looks at how we shape our lives and how we are shaped by forces beyond our control.

The setting of Perdido, with its lush, damp marshes, echoes the landscapes of other Alabama stories. Like the town of Zephyr in McCammon's Boy’s Life. Perdido is a place where the past lingers and the land holds memory. The dense woods and slow rivers are akin to the backdrops of To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee, where the setting is as vital as the characters. The air, thick with heat and history, binds these tales together.

Blackwater is a haunting, beautiful journey through time and place.

This story did not and will not let go. I savored this tale, each page taking me deeper into the world of Perdido.

Has calificado esta reseña.

Reportaste esta reseña

⭐️⭐️⭐️ 💫3.75 stars!

Revisado: 02-02-25

Julie Leong's “The Teller of Small Fortunes" wove a delicate yet potent narrative.

The story follows Tao, a fortune teller of modest means. She roams from village to village, her gift both boon and burden. Each place she visits, each soul she encounters, adds depth to her journey. She does not merely predict futures; she alters lives. The plot, while gentle in its unfolding, is rich with the complexities of human emotion and fate.

Tao is fragile and formidable. Her journey is one of self-discovery, as she learns the true extent of her gift and its implications, collecting a motley crew of colorful friends- a found family. But she is the anchor, the guide through this intricate tapestry.

There is a thief, an ex mercenary, a baker-light-hearted and full of zest, and a cat. Their quirks and antics added a whimsical touch to the tale. Leong’s prose felt finely tuned, each note resonating with clarity and purpose. Her words were simple, their impact profound. The narrative flowed with a musical rhythm, and drew me deeper into the world she has crafted.

There is a melancholic beauty to the story, a sense of yearning and hope that permeates every page. It felt a comforting tale that made me ponder the small fortunes that shape our lives.

At its heart, the book is about fate, self-discovery, love, found family and friendship. Tao's gift serves as a metaphor for the choices we make and the paths we take. The story explored the delicate balance between destiny and free will, and the impact of our actions on ourselves and those around us.

There weren’t cliffhangers, thrills or scares, there weren’t any politicking or machinations. The book was cozy. Reading it felt like eating a warm dessert paired with flavorful tea warming your hands under a starlit night.

Has calificado esta reseña.

Reportaste esta reseña

4.5 stars! 🌟🌟🌟🌟💫

Revisado: 01-20-25

Scott Lynch's Republic of Thieves is a story deep with whimsy and wit. It swept me up from the start and kept me hooked till the end.

The tale spun another story of Locke and Jean, two thieves in a political game—a grand and risky match with old foes. It is tale of tricks and charm, each twist a bold move on a chessboard of wit and guile. As usual, Lynch's world felt vast and filled with schemes, where each win was yet another step in a dance of blades and grace.

Locke was his usual sharp self, as a blade, yet soft of heart. His past haunted him, but his mind cut through the dark. Jean was a wall of strength, as before, true to his character; his loyalty knew no bounds. Yet both this time have to face Sabetha, a ghost from their past, strong and cunning, who made the game even more sharp-tongued, elegant, and fierce. There is a dash of romance in this one thrown in good measure and done well to boot.

As always, Lynch's words felt bright and crisp, with a humor that cut to the bone. Each line flew with ease, drawing me deep into a world both grand and grim. His theme of a tale flowing in flashbacks parallel to the current story is again seen in ROT. His mix of old tales and fresh schemes is a charm I think few can match.

The mood seemed to shift in the story from light to dark, from love to grief, in a beat. It was a world full of both joy and woe, where each win was just a step to a new fight. There is foreshadowing of what’s to come, as with other books, evident in the places we see through the characters’ eyes, artifacts in this world, and nuggets dropped by various players in the story. I felt there was more of it here in ROT as we are getting close to expecting the fourth book. Yet, through it all, there's a hope that shines, a spark that keeps it all from dark.

Lynch has woven a world where each page I turned was with glee and dread in equal measure, where thieves played a game of hearts and minds. It's absolutely a tale full of charm and bite, a dance of schemes that will stay long in my heart and mind.

Has calificado esta reseña.

Reportaste esta reseña

4 stars!⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Revisado: 01-10-25

SOBS by Larry Correia is a tale that draws you in. It mixes brave acts, deep ties, and dark forces. Ashok is a guard, a “protector”. A protector of the law of the land. He does his duty with skill and pride and blind faith in the law. He fights bad folks and beasts. But his world is not what it seems. He finds truths that change his path. The land is harsh, and life is tough. Ashok is a lone knight, strong in skill, with a heart hard as stone.
The names and the caste system indicate a clear East Indian inspiration. The land has gods and spells. The caste system is brutal and punishing. The story does take grim turns in places. The sky and earth are full of magic. It is a world rich with lore. Ashok’s past is dark, his dreams dim, yet his will won't wane. His cast of comrades, each with quirks and quests, keeps the tale tight and true.
I am a fan of fierce fights, wild worlds, and knights in night-dark armor, and this book felt like a boon. A great palate cleanser that also makes me deliciously look forward to the next one. Larry Correia has crafted a tale that grips and gleams, with twists and turns that are full of thrill.
Tim Gerard Reynolds read the story perfectly! Awesome!

Has calificado esta reseña.

Reportaste esta reseña