Series Saturday: Three by Rosalie and Hunter Mastaler

July is Disability Pride Month (celebrating the anniversary of the signing of the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) in July 1990) so I thought I’d use the first Series Saturday post of the month to feature three books that, while not a “series” in the truest sense of the word, all focus on disability awareness and pride written by the same mother-son pair: Rosalie and Hunter Mastaler.

A little background is probably appropriate here. I created an Instagram account back in 2017. I didn’t do much with it for the first few years, but once I started posting more regularly, of course the platform started making recommendations about accounts to follow and started popping Reels and posts into my feed. Somewhere along the way, it started showing me posts by @mastalerpartyof5, many of which focused on the Mastalers’ son Hunter (then 11 or maybe early 12 years old) and his recommendations on how to approach a child who has a visible disability. Hunter is an amputee (missing one leg below the knee) and is also partially deaf. These posts were informative and also light-hearted, and I found myself paying more attention to how I reacted to seeing disabled people out in public and taking much of the Mastalers’ advice to heart. Following the Mastaler account led me to follow quite a few other accounts focused on disability awareness and inclusion.

In the past couple of years, mom Rosalie and son Hunter (now 14 years old) have written and published three books that take the message from their Instagram presence and expand upon it in print form. I highly recommend all three books.

 

HUNTER’S TALL TALES

Illustrated by Danelle Prestwich, Hunter’s Tall Tales is a children’s picture book based on Hunter’s real-live encounters with other children who would ask what happened to his leg and focus on that more than just wanting to play. The tall tales the fictional Hunter tells range from being half-robot to not eating enough veggies as a baby and having pet piranhas he forgot to feed. The stories, and the other kids’ reactions to them, are humorous and set the stage for Hunter encountering a boy whose first question is not “what happened to your leg,” but rather “what’s your name” followed by “can you play soccer?” The focus on who he is rather than “what’s wrong with him” changes Hunter’s mood and his entire day. The book makes a crucial point about inclusion and respect, in language young kids can understand and follow. Danelle Prestwich’s art is beautifully simple and expressive, especially in the characters’ eyes and body language.

 

REPRESENT! 30 True Stories of trailblazers, artists, athletes, and adventurers with disabilities, Volume 1

With artwork by Brant Day, Represent! provides exactly what the title advertises: short biographies of 30 individuals who have been successful in their chosen endeavors despite, and often because of, their disabilities. In the introduction, Hunter and Rosalie both express their admiration for the people they profile, and how many have become Hunter’s heroes and inspirations. The folks profiled range from blind adventurer Erik Weihenmayer, who has climbed all of the world’s seven highest mountains, to Iron Man triathlon athlete Chris Nikic, who has Down Syndrome, to deaf singer/songwriter Mandy Harvey, paraplegic Tony Award winner Ali Stoker, and more. What shines through each entry is the perseverance and commitment of each person to test, and surpass, the boundaries society would place on those who are blind, deaf, paralyzed or otherwise disabled. The authors say they had a challenging time whittling the book down to just 30 entries, and a second volume is planned. I was happy to see profiles of people I was already familiar with (like Ali Stoker, whose Tony Award win had me cheering and crying) alongside profiles of people I’m eager to learn more about.

 

LET THE GAMES BEGIN

The Mastalers’ most recent publication is Let the Games Begin, another children's picture book focused on the plethora of adaptive sports available to the disability community. The book gives a full-page spread to each sport, ranging from alpine skiing to beep baseball to sled hockey, wheelchair basketball and swimming (the latter two of which Hunter participates in; his wheelchair basketball team won a National Championship in June, and he made the all-tournament team). The art by Betty Yuku is bubbly and adorable. Each sport has fun text easy for younger kids to sound out and read, accompanied by more detailed text appropriate for older readers that explains the history of the sport and how it works.

Series Saturday: THE ATOMIC KNIGHTS

This is a blog series about … well, series. I love stories that continue across volumes, in whatever form: linked short stories, novels, novellas, television, movies, comics.

Cover art by Murphy Anderson

The Atomic Knights, published by DC Comics, (hardcover collected edition: 2010)

Writers: John Broome

Art: Murphy Anderson

Editor: Julius Schwartz

 

I could write a whole post (and perhaps someday I will) on how I have DC’s 100-Page Spectaculars of the 1970s (and to a lesser extent, their digest-sized reprints in the 80s) to thank for my love of most of the company’s non-super-hero content, and in particular DC’s science fiction, adventure team, and historical characters of the early Silver Age (not to mention my love of their Golden Age superheroes). On the science fiction side of things, those oversized issues were rife with reprints of the exploits of (among others) Tommy Tomorrow, Adam Strange, the Star Rovers, Space Cabby, and the Atomic Knights.

Written by John Broome, with art by Murphy Anderson, and under the editorship of Julie Schwartz, the Knights debuted in Strange Adventures #117 (June 1960) and ran intermittently in the title under #160 (January 1964), a mere 15 adventures in three-and-a-half years. But what adventures they were – and what an effect they had on pre-teen and early-teen me when they were reprinted a decade or so later. I no longer own most of the various issues those reprints appeared in, nor do I know if every single Atomic Knights story was reprinted at the time. But in 2010, DC published a hardcover collection of all 15 original stories. I recently re-read it, hence this post.

For those who may not be familiar with the Atomic Knights, here’s the set-up: it is 1986 and World War III, the Great Atomic War, is over after a scant 20 days. Amnesiac soldier Gardner Grayle finds his way to a ruined city whose citizens are desperate for food and medicine, both of which are being hoarded by a warlord calling himself the Black Baron. Grayle teams up with some of the locals (Douglas Herald, a teacher; Marene, Douglas’s sister; redheaded twin brothers Hollis and Wayne Hobard; and a scientist named Bryndon) to take down the Baron wearing ancient armor that is impervious to the Baron’s radioactive weapons. Hence, the group name. The Baron is, unsurprisingly, defeated and run off in the first episode, whereafter the Knights alternate between protecting their small city of Durvale from a variety of menaces and traveling out to explore what’s left of the United States of America.

As was typical of comics of the period, the characterizations are rather flat, with each team member designed to fill a particular role. Gardner is the square-jawed, death-defying, motivational-speech-giving, “do what’s right no matter how dangerous” leader. Douglas is the practical-minded, thoughtful second-in-command and provider of much exposition. Marene is the requisite damsel-in-distress love interest. Wayne and Hollis are the loyal, do-as-told, muscle of the group. Bryndon is the scientist, the gadget man, and the not-so-subtle reminder that science without conscience is usually not a good thing. There are moments where some of these molds are broken (Wayne and Hollis get to build gliders for the team to use, something that usually would be Bryndon’s role; Marene finally gets to go undercover and save the day in the series’ final installment, “Here Come the Wild Ones,” although Broome still can’t resist having the story end with her thinking that as happy as she is that her mission was a success, she’d be happier if she and Gardner could finally get married and start a family.) but for the most part, each character plays his/her assigned role.

The stories started out very episodic, rarely mentioning what had come before other than the team’s origin. In the early adventures, the team visits other small enclaves of surviving humans as well as the remains of New York City and Los Angeles (in later stories, they also get to New Orleans, Detroit, and Washington DC), each time facing radiation-created monsters or greedy humans who need to be defeated. With the introduction of a revived Atlantean civilization as a threat, the stories develop stronger internal continuity, and it becomes clearer that the stories are progressing in something close to real time. While the stories were published between 1960 and 1964, the characters progress from 1986 to 1992, with some amazing advances in recovery from an atomic war (or “the hydrogen war,” as it’s called in some stories). The Atlantean threat is a 3-parter which also introduces the giant dalmatians (the first giant irradiated creatures that do not pose a threat) that will serve as the Knights’ steeds for the rest of the run.

Actual aliens visit the radiation-devastated Earth in “Menace of the Metal-Looters,” one of the series’ weaker entries, but they are the only extra-terrestrial threat the Knights face – the exception that proves the series’ rule: we humans are our own worst enemies, whether through misused technology, hubris and greed, or both. Okay, that’s not 100% true. “When The Earth Blacked Out” reveals that World War III / the Nuclear War / The Hydrogen War started not because of any one nation, but because of an energy pulse sent out by an underground civilization of mole people! (It was the 1960s, and lost underground civilizations were all the rage in SF and comics.) Douglas’ declaration that “we humans still cannot escape responsibility” (because we created the bombs in the first place) feels a little tacked on, almost insincere. I get what Broome was going for, but I think it would have been better for the series overall if the actual start of the war had just been left unexplored.

Throughout the run, Murphy Anderson’s art is consistently excellent. His characters have distinct facial features and body language, his action sequences are dynamic, and even the silliest monsters (I say again: mole people!) are threatening. There’s a reason he’s one of the most highly regarded and revered artists of the late Golden and Silver Age.

The 2010 hardcover collection does not include the Atomic Knights’ later appearances in DC Comics’ Kamandi and Hercules Unbound, wherein it was revealed that all three series shared the same future world, nor their appearance in DC Comics Presents. The Kamandi and Hercules Unbound appearances are included in a black-and-white paperback collection called Showcase Presents the Great Disaster Starring the Atomic Knights (whew!), which I recently ordered a copy of. I look forward to revisiting those stories. I do own a copy of the DC Comics Presents issue where Superman “teams up” with the Atomic Knights. I’ve always been conflicted about it. On the one hand, it relegates the original Strange Adventures stories to being the dreams of a soldier (Gardner Grayle) in suspended animation, in an unnecessary attempt to explain why the series’ 1986 and the real world 1986 look different – which I think does a disservice to Broome and Anderson. On the other hand, it did pave the way for a “modern times” Gardner Grayle to join The Outsiders (one of my then-favorite titles and teams) as The Atomic Knight, which I really liked.

Overall, my reread of the hardcover collection cemented why the sometimes-silly post-apocalyptic Atomic Knights series was, and remains, one of my favorite non-superhero DC runs.

 

 

If you enjoyed this post, check out some of my previous DC comics-related Series Saturday posts:

Silverblade, First Issue Special, Nathaniel Dusk, Young Heroes in Love

Series Saturday: CHEFS OF THE FIVE GODS

This is a blog series about … well, series. I love stories that continue across volumes, in whatever form: linked short stories, novels, novellas, television, movies, comics.

cover designs by Philip Pascuzzo

Chefs of the Five Gods duology

Written by Beth Cato

published by 47 North (2023 – 2024)

Titles:

·       A Thousand Recipes for Revenge (2023)

·       A Feast for Starving Stone (2024)

 

“Chefs of the Five Gods,” Beth Cato’s recent fantasy duology, features intriguing world-building, complicated characters, and strong commentary on how something being a cultural norm or tradition doesn’t necessarily mean it’s morally correct.

The world itself is politically and geographically based on Western Europe in the pre-Colonial period. At the start of book one, A Thousand Recipes for Revenge, Solenn, a princess of Braiz (essentially coastal northern France as its own country) has been promised in marriage to a prince of Verdania (the larger, more landlocked portion of France). Thanks to recent events (including the virtual destruction of Braiz’s once powerful navy), Verdania is a more politically and militarily powerful nation than Braiz. Braiz needs the ally, given its geographic position between Verdania and the equally powerful and antagonistic island nation of Albion, a constant threat. Accompanied to Verdania’s capitol city by only a small handful of musketeers led by her father’s closest friend and her mentor, Erwan Corre, Solenn must navigate the politics of a foreign nation and the burgeoning of a power she didn’t know she had: she’s a Chef.

In this world, ingredients called epicurea, derived from certain animals and plants, hold magic. Foods cooked with epicurea do everything from enhancing stamina and erasing wrinkles to making voices louder and more sonorous … and being used as sometimes-undetectable poisons. People who can empathically sense epicurea are called Chefs, and in Verdania and Albion they are conscripted into service of the government. Especially empathetic Chefs can even sense the aromas and flavors of ordinary ingredients and can perfectly pair epicurean and non-epicurean ingredients to create unforgettable meals. Ada Garland is a rogue Chef, on the run from service to Verdania’s ruthless king and separated from the love of her life, a Braizian musketeer named Erwan Corre. When Ada is attacked by employees of a man she sent to prison many years earlier, she is put on a path that will inevitably lead her to the daughter she sent away with Erwan for safety’s sake: Solenn.

The combination of a volatile political situation and a magic that only certain people can wield is a potent one. Throw in two strong female leads and a diverse supporting cast, all with their own secrets, and you have a fast-moving, often surprising pair of books that I highly recommend.

Solenn has no idea that Erwan and Ada are her parents, so learning she’s a Chef (as she senses poison in a meal being served to her soon-to-be husband) is a shock that leads to the reveal of her parentage. These early scenes with Solenn establish who she is so clearly: strong-willed, intelligent, but still afraid of being alone once she’s married in a court of enemies. She is not happy about being a political tool, but she loves her country too much to shirk what she perceives as her duty. Learning that she is in fact not the child of the parents who raised her, learning that she is in fact “gifted” with a talent she’s only seen others possess, learning that there’s a plot to kill her betrothed … all of this turns her world upside down, but doesn’t deter her from doing what she knows is the right thing.

Solenn’s scenes alternate with Ada’s which almost from the start are more action-packed (arrests, chases, and attacks) but are equally informative about who Ada is: strong-willed, intelligent, well-trained in sword and gun and hand-to-hand combat, afraid of the toll being on the run has taken on her beloved grandmother, also a rogue Chef. She loves the ability she possesses, hates having to create less-than-perfect meals to serve customers at the Inn where she works so that no one will suspect she’s a rogue Chef. She is devoted to her grandmother, to the friends she served with, to the memory of her marriage to Erwan Corre, annulled by edict of Verdania’s king (which forced her to send her infant daughter away). Both women would do anything, risk anything, for the people they love – and throughout the duology they do just that.

Mother and Daughter’s paths slowly converge over the course of the first book, as the true magical origins of epicurea add another layer of intrigue and several of the Five Gods become personally involved in the events. A Thousand Recipes for Revenge wraps up its major plot points before the book’s denouement, but not everyone emerges completely unscathed … and everything escalates in book two, A Feast for Starving Stone. Albionish machinations in book one lead to outright war in book two as Solenn finds herself in a new role, creating an alliance between Braiz and the previously unknown magical world to save Braiz from being overwhelmed by larger and more powerful enemies attacking from both sides.

A large portion of A Thousand Recipes for Revenge is devoted to the political intrigues surrounding Solenn and the revelations of why Ada went rogue (and how that reason is coming back to threaten her), making the book a delightful slow boil of alternating viewpoints, keeping the reader wondering how and when Ada’s and Solenn’s stories will converge. The reveal of the mother-daughter connection comes early, which enabled me to enjoy picking out how similar, and how different, the two women are without too much time spent on wondering why they are so similar. (I should admit here that I received a print ARC of the book and because I’m such a Beth Cato fan, I dove right in without reading the back cover copy, where the relationship is revealed in the first paragraph.) As noted above, they are both strong women who love their families and would do anything to protect the people they love – even if that means facing fatal danger. But where Solenn also loved her country, Ada is jaded and embittered against hers (for good reason), and this difference in political fealty affects the decisions each makes, which in turn propels the narrative. I hope you can tell how much I love, and feel for, both characters.

I also really enjoyed the supporting cast. Not just Erwan Corre, who is a wonderfully relaxed yet dangerous man, but also the sweet but mysterious Aveyron Silvacane and his father Brillat; Ada’s beloved Grand-Mere, suffering from dementia; Ada’s friend and former fellow soldier Emone and her wife Claudette; and others I loath to identify in fear of spoiling some major plot twists/reveals.

While Thousand Recipes focuses very much on behind-the-scenes political machinations and spycraft before moving into a deadly battle, A Feast for Starving Stone’s opening chapter makes it clear that war is no longer imminent, it is here – and Braiz is caught in a pincer between Albion and Verdania. Solenn and Ada again find themselves on separate quests to protect the people they love, again at great personal peril, and again caught up in the games several of the Five Gods seem to be playing with humanity and with each other. Starving Stone is a much faster paced, blatantly action filled than Thousand Recipes, which puts the books in interesting counterpoint to each other, just as Solenn and Ada counterpoint but complement each other. There is much more bloodshed in Starving Stone but there is also emotional healing and bonding. The book has a lot to say about how we heal from trauma, and how we sometimes come to forgiveness and understanding for those who have harmed us. (Solenn in particular has a painfully beautiful arc regarding this.)

Throughout both books, it is clear that all of these countries regard epicurea as a tool, drawn from animals who are not as important as the humans in control of the world. Many of these animals are hunted to near extinction or bred in horrible circumstances, the plants overharvested. While I am not a vegetarian or vegan, I recognize the parallels between the epicurea of Cato’s world and the hunting, cruel breeding/raising, and overharvesting that happens in our own. As mentioned earlier, Cato makes a persuasive case that just because something is an ingrained cultural institution doesn’t mean it is the morally correct or empathetic thing to do. But we’ve all seen in our own world how hard it is to get people to change from “the way it’s always been” to “a way that is more caring,” and the characters in this duology struggle with what will be a massive cultural shift.

“Chefs of the Five Gods” is currently billed as a duology, and the second book ends on a satisfying note with all the major plotlines tied up, but I really hope Cato will return to this world. It feels like there’s still plenty to explore both in where the characters will go (I totally ship Solenn and Aveyron, by the way. If I wrote fanfiction…) and in the shifts in politics and culture that the reveal of the truth about epicurea should bring about. Still, for now the story is done and I cannot recommend highly enough that fantasy fans seek out A Thousand Recipes for Revenge and A Feast for Starving Stone.

I’ve also featured Beth Cato’s Blood of Earth trilogy on Series Saturday. You can find that post HERE. And I’ve reviewed several of her short stories. Those reviews can be found HERE.

Series Saturday: PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIANS Season One

This is a blog series about … well, series. I love stories that continue across volumes, in whatever form: linked short stories, novels, novellas, television, movies, comics.

 

Percy Jackson and the Olympians Season One television series (2023 - 2024)

Starred: Walker Scobell, Leah Sava Jeffries, Aryan Simhadri

Produced by 20th Television, Co-Lab 21, Gotham Group, Moorish Dignity Productions, Quaker Moving Pictures, and Walt Disney Studios

Originally aired on Disney+

Count me in as one of the many viewers who are far more satisfied with this television adaptation of Book One of Rick Riordan’s Percy Jackson and the Olympians series than with the previous movie attempts. (To be honest: I am also one of those folks who liked the movies fine for what they were, but faithful to the novels they were not.) Disney’s eight-episode season allowed for a much more faithful (but not slavishly so) adaptation. Is it perfect? No, of course not. No adaptation from one form of media to another ever is. But it’s a damn fine eight hours of television, in this viewer’s eyes. I’m not going to spend time talking about the changes. Rick Riordan himself has commented on most of them on his social media, and while I love the books it has been over a decade since I last read The Lightning Thief. I’ll stick to my thoughts on the show we got rather than lamenting (or lambasting) the things we didn’t.

First and foremost: kudos to the casting department, especially on the three leads. I may be one of the few people on Earth who still have not seen The Adam Project, so my only awareness of Walker Scobell was when clips from that movie started to show up on social media, but what I saw in those clips definitely fit my perception of Percy. Scobell’s excellent use of snark is not the only reason he’s a great Percy, of course. He really gets the character’s struggles to fit in, to control his anger at his absentee father, to manage his ADHD; he also embodies Percy’s loyalty to those he calls friends (and his pain when those friends betray, or seem to betray, him). Leah Sava Jeffries is pretty much his perfect match as Annabeth – she too can bring the snark, but the best moments were watching her struggle with being the smartest person in the room. Aryan Simhadri brings a loveable goofiness to Grover that never tips over into broad caricature (which it could easily have done); his sense of comic timing is spot on. (Bonus points for the casting director who found Azriel Dalman to play young Percy; I believed he and Walker were playing the same kid.)

The adults are also perfectly cast. Virginia Kull is heartbreaking as Sally Jackson while also being a bastion of parental support (however imperfect at times). The gods and monsters (Lin Manuel Miranda, Toby Stephens, Megan Mulally, Timothy Omundson, Glynn Turman, Jay Duplass, Jason Mantzoukas, Jessica Parker Kennedy, Suzanne Cryer) are all excellent in their turns, but full credit especially to Adam Copeland as Ares. I do wish the late, great Lance Reddick had had more screen time as Zeus. I am also glad that on screen and even in the credits and despite their overwhelming star power, all these wonderful adults were not allowed to overshadow the three leads. They were supporting characters or antagonists (or both) but never stole focus.

My one major complaint with the season is that it should have been one episode longer. The time Percy spends at Camp Half-Blood is given only one episode and I think the Percy/Luke dynamic suffers for it. When episode two aired, I commented that I wasn’t particularly impressed with Charlie Bushnell as Luke in comparison to the other kids (including Dior Goodjohn as Clarissa). Watching the final episode, I realized I felt that way because Bushnell just wasn’t given much to work with in the earlier episode. All of his good stuff came at the end, and half of that in flashback to stuff we should have seen earlier. It was a stylistic choice on the part of Riordan and the rest of the production team and in my opinion one of the few missteps.

My only other complaint, and it is minor, is that the nighttime and Underworld scenes were all so dark I sometime couldn’t see details that I would have liked to see and I’m sure were there (because in all the other stuff shot on the Volume stage, the FX work is stunning and immersive). Yes, I’m aware that maybe it’s my television and not the production at fault.

When I originally drafted this post, I ended with a simple “So, Disney: get on with greenlighting season two already!”  And lo and behold, just a few days before this post will go live, Disney did exactly that. I hope production on season 2, adapted from The Sea of Monsters, starts up quickly and runs smoothly and that it appears on our screens sooner rather than later.


If you enjoyed this post, check out some of my previous fantasy/superhero television-related Series Saturday posts:

SERIES SATURDAY: THE BITTERSWEETS CLUB

This is a blog series about … well, series. I love stories that continue across volumes, in whatever form: linked short stories, novels, novellas, television, movies, comics.

Series cover art by Inkspiral Designs

It’s a little past the season, but I thought I’d relaunch regular Series Saturday posts with a look at what has become one of my annual re-reads: a set of holiday-themed novellas, three of which take place at Christmas (and the other on April Fool’s Day).

The Little Village novellas (4 volumes)

Written by ‘Nathan Burgoine

published by Bold Stroke Books (2019 – 2022)

 

Titles:

·       Handmade Holidays

·       Faux Ho Ho

·       Village Fool

·       Felix Navidad

 

A substantial number, if not all, of ‘Nathan Burgoine’s novels and short stories interconnect, with his fictionalized version of Ottawa’s Gay Village as a shared setting. Main characters in one story will play supporting roles or make cameo appearances in others, local businesses with names like Body Positive, NiceTeas, and Bittersweets recur, incidents are mentioned in passing, lending all the stories a shared history and timeline. Part of the fun of reading any Burgoine work is figuring out how it connects to all his other work. Some are more obviously connected than others, such as those identified as “Little Village novellas” on the cover – and in particular, the quartet of romance novellas featuring a group of friends called “the Bittersweets Club.”

The Bittersweets Club are four friends who meet regularly at the titular coffee shop: graphic designer Ru, the quippiest member of the group; software designer Silas, the most socially awkward; I.T. Specialist Owen, who still bears the mental and physical scars of a bad car accident; and home health aide nurse Felix, who never met a practical joke he didn’t love and never met a man he did. Each man’s road to romance gets its own novella focused, as mentioned above, on a particular holiday,

What I love about this series as a whole is how sweet and straightforward each book is. These are books about gay men finding love, yes, but also about friends nurturing each other and the strength of “found family.” They have just the right amount of “will they get together or won’t they” angst, are playful with the tropes of the romance genre, and all have HEA (Happily Ever After) or at least HFN (Happy For Now) endings. Which is not to say the stories are completely light or frivolous. Burgoine’s romances are always grounded in our very real current culture, where queer people still have to check their surroundings before holding hands or kissing in public, where birth families still disown gay children, where transphobia is very real even within the LGBTQ+ community. I always appreciate Burgoine’s refusal to paint his stories into some rosy world where homophobia is a thing of the past. Because it isn’t.

Though they share characters and a timeline, each of the four novellas stands alone and thus can be read in any order. References are made to events in the other books, but always in a way that does not make the reader feel like they’re missing vital information for the story at hand and I think in a way that intrigues the reader enough to seek out the other books regardless of which one you start with.

That said, I’ll discuss the books in publication order since that’s the order in which I read them.

Handmade Holidays

Handmade Holidays is Ru’s story, even though he is not the focal character. That would be bookstore manager and budding author Nick. Disowned at nineteen but his family for the “sin” of being gay, Nick begins to build his own traditions with a found family that includes his best friend Ru. The only novella in the series told in strict chronological order, each chapter covers an important Christmas in Nick’s life, and therefore Ru’s, as the friends navigate unsuccessful relationships, changes in employment, parental illnesses, and the growth of their found family. This is also the novella with the longest timespan, stretching over 15 years of Nick and Ru’s lives. I love the pacing of this book. Burgoine packs so many major life events in and manages to make it feel neither rushed nor lacking in detail. It’s also a wonderful take on the “friends to lovers” trope, as Nick and Ru bounce off of each other and second-guess their feelings, the timing never feeling quite right – until one of them takes a risk. It all feels totally authentic. And as with all the Little Village romances, both leads are men I’d like to know in real life.

 

Faux Ho Ho

But lifelong friends finally admitting they’re in love with each other can have repercussions on their friend group. When Nick and Ru move in together, Ru’s roommate Silas is left in search of someone to share the rent with. The apartment is perfectly placed above Bittersweets, but Silas’ pay as a freelance IT consultant and software designer won’t cover the rent and he knows that asking his conservative and politically powerful parents (who tolerate Silas for the optics more than anything) for help will come with strings attached. Silas is skeptical when Ru suggests he consider personal trainer Dino as a new roommate. Big, burly bodybuilders do not really fit in the Silas Waite Venn Diagram of Life. But as they get to know each other, Dino causes Silas to readjust his outlook. Told in Burgoine’s signature style – that is, chapters that alternate between the present and the past to heighten the story’s tension (juxtaposing “what will happen next” with “how did the characters get to this point”), Faux Ho Ho plays with both the “opposites attract” and “fake relationship” tropes. To get Silas out of spending Thanksgiving with his very conservative family, Dino pretends to be Silas’ boyfriend … which inspires Silas’ sister to finally marry her boyfriend because now Silas can attend with a date, which she knows will piss off their parents and siblings. I love how Silas and Dino bring out the best in each other. I love the contrast between Dino’s family, who all instantly love Silas and go along with the “fake relationship” hoping it will turn real, and Silas’ family, who (other than his wonderfully supportive sister and her fiancée) are only okay with Silas being gay as long as he stays quiet and single. And I love the themes of found family what it really means to be an ally to the LGBTQIA+ community that Burgoine continues to thread through these books.

 

Village Fool

Village Fool is the only “Bittersweets Club” novella which does not take place on or around the Christmas holidays. While this is Owen’s story from start to finish, the main action is incited by Felix’s impulsiveness. He plays an April Fool’s joke on Owen, switching Owen’s phone contacts so when Owen thinks he’s texting Felix, he’s really texting his unrequited crush Toma. The fact that Toma is Owen’s physiotherapist complicates matters even more. Like Faux Ho Ho, the chapters in Village Fool alternate between the present, where we see the set-up of the practical joke, how it plays out, and the immediate aftermath, and the past, where we see how the Bittersweets Club formed, how Owen met Toma and how their mutual crushes (this is not really a spoiler) developed. One of the things I love about this book is the way Burgoine presents Owen’s anxiety and insecurity as compared to Silas’s in Faux Ho Ho; the author is very conscious of the fact that no two people’s anxiety, insecurity, or depression operate the same way and makes sure that Own and Silas are not cookie-cutter stereotypes. They have certain commonalities (just as Ru and Felix, the group extroverts, do) but their coping mechanisms, as well as their formative backgrounds, are quite different.

 

Felix Navidad

The final “Bittersweets Club” novella is all about Felix, but it also ties the series’ subplots together in a nice little bow. Ru and Nick are finally getting married, after Covid forced them to delay. Owen and Toma and Silas and Dino are of course going together, but Felix is going solo. He’s had a rough year but is also still feeling the sting of how his impulsive April Fool’s gag affected Owen, even though everything turned out okay. The story alternates between the present holiday, (where Felix and another wedding guest, Ru’s ex Kevin, end up stuck in a cabin that only has one bed, thanks to a massive blizzard), and the past year (with Ru getting to know a new patient, retiree Danya, who has a thing or two to say about Felix’s lack of a social or romantic life). In the “present holiday” chapters, Burgoine moves from one classic trope (the “blind date misunderstanding”) to another (forced proximity/one bed) so smoothly you almost don’t realize it’s happening … and manages to tweak both in very satisfactory ways. The flashback chapters focus on Felix’s growing friendship with sickly but still effervescent Danya, and they are an amazing look at how intergenerational friendships in the gay community should (but all too often don’t) work. Burgoine often comments on how hard it is for younger queer folk to learn our community’s history, because so many of those who should be our elders were taken away from us by the AIDS epidemic. But here, he reminds us that some of that history is still living, still vital – if only younger folks are willing to pay attention, learn, and develop actual connection with our elders. Danya’s illness (NOT AIDS, I feel like I must stress) is a major part of the flashback chapters but please don’t think this means the book is depressing. It is not. It’s as sweet and cute and romantic as the other books in the series – but it also doesn’t shy away from the reality that often joy and sorrow walk beside each other.

 

While books focused on the “Bittersweets Club” may be done for now, Burgoine isn’t done with gay romances set at the holidays in the Little Village. He recently teased plans for a series featuring a new group of Little Village residents taking place on holidays other than Christmas, and I don’t need to tell you I’m here for them all. He’s also got plans for non-holiday romances building out some of the characters and locations we’ve met along with the Bittersweets guys. In fact, A Little Village Blend is already out in the world.

So: what are your favorite holiday-set LGBTQIA+ romances? Let me know in the comments!

SERIES SATURDAY: Warriors of Zandar

This is a blog series about … well, series. I love stories that continue across volumes, in whatever form: linked short stories, novels, novellas, television, movies, comics.

 

Beyond The Farthest Star: Warriors of Zandar

Publisher: American Mythology

Publication Date(s): 2022

Writer/Editor: Mike Wolfer

Pencils and Inks: Allesandro Ranaldi

Colors: Arthur Hesli

Letters: Natalie Jane

 

Last week on Series Saturday, I reviewed American Mythology’s recent four-issue mini-series Pellucidar: Across Savage Seas featuring Gretchen Von Harben, the first of two comic book series officially considered canonical Edgar Rice Burroughs Universe entries. Beyond The Farthest Star: Warriors of Zandar is the second of those series, and stars Gretchen Von Harben’s daughter Victory Harben.

Over the past two years, readers of the “Swords of Eternity Super-Arc” series from Edgar Rice Burroughs Inc. (Carson of Venus: The Edge of All Worlds by Matt Betts; Tarzan: Battle for Pellucidar by Win Scott Eckert; and John Carter of Mars: Gods of the Forgotten by Geary Gravel) have been introduced to Victory, learned a bit about her childhood, and bore witness to a few of her many adventures bouncing through space and time thanks to an accident involving the Gridley Wave that allows those in Pellucidar to communicate with the surface world. Beyond the Farthest Star: Warriors of Zandar is another of those space-and-time-bouncing adventures, in which Victory finds herself on the far-off titular planet and smack in the middle of a battle between two races: the peaceful Ki-Vaas and the brutal Keelars. As usual, the out-going and gregarious Victory makes a new friend almost immediately, which pulls her further into the local conflict: the Keelars are harvesting the Ki-Vaas and subjecting them to a device that extracts and saves the life-force of anyone placed in it.

Writer Mike Wolfer paces the main story – Victory and her friend’s attempts to rescue the captive Ki-Vaa and stop the Keelars – pretty perfectly across the four issues, once again easily matching Edgar Rice Burroughs’ prose style in comic book form. Complications abound before Victory and her compatriots solve the problem at hand, but there is a resolution to the main story. We also get a nice look into Victory’s character: her sense of social justice, her willingness to do the right thing even at great personal peril, her open-hearted nature. In Wolfer’s hands, Victory Harben continues to be a character I want to know more about and want to see in adventure after adventure.

There are some unresolved secondary plots, but as this is definitely not Victory’s final adventure I’m not concerned that they will remain unresolved for long. I am intrigued by references to the Keelar’s unseen master “The One from Above,” a figure who remains mysterious and unseen even in the final issue of the mini-series. I’m also wondering just how long Victory will remain on Zandar and whether this world will also be the setting for Christopher Paul Carey’s upcoming novel Victory Harben: Fires of Helos, which is the final installment in the “Swords of Eternity” Super-Arc mentioned above.

Wolfer also does a wonderful job, mostly via dialogue that doesn’t feel like an info-dump and never feels out of character, conveying the differences between the Ki-Vaa and Keelar societies. Burroughs, in his Mars and Venus books especially, was known for making sure his alien planets were populated with a diversity of physical and societal types where so much science fiction of the time (and even in the more recent past) took the short-cut of having homogenous planet-wide societies. The latter may make for easier storytelling, but it also feels a bit unrealistic.

Allesandro Ranaldi’s artwork is highly expressive and really conveys the alien nature of the planet Victory has found herself on. Wolfer conveys via dialogue the differences between the two societies, and Rinaldi shows us the very large difference in physicality. The Ki-Vaa are humanoid but distinctly not human, while the Keelar are blockier, for lack of a better term. (It’s probably not intentional on the part of the artist, but the Keelar remind me of shorter, hairless versions of Looney Tunes character Gossamer.) Arthur Hesli’s colors make this new world pop.

Victory Harben is not the only connection between this series and the greater canonical Edgar Rice Burroughs Universe: the planet Zandar is in the same solar system as Poloda, the planet introduced in the novel Beyond the Farthest Star (hence the lengthy title of the mini-series). Farthest Star is one of my favorite Burroughs novels. We’ll never know what Burroughs intended for Tangor, the hero of the novel, or Poloda or the solar system as a whole – but ERB Inc. clearly has plans for them. Victory Harben is, I think, the ideal character to bridge the gap between Farthest Star and the rest of the canonical ERBU.

Series Saturday: Frank Schildiner's Frankenstein novels

This is a blog series about … well, series. I love stories that continue across volumes, in whatever form: linked short stories, novels, novellas, television, movies, comics.

The Frankenstein novels (3 volumes)

Written by Frank Schildiner

published by Black Coat Press (2015 – 2019)

 

Titles:

·       The Quest of Frankenstein (2015)

·       The Triumph of Frankenstein (2017)

·       The Spells of Frankenstein (2019)

 

Mary Shelley’s classic creation Frankenstein has spawned more sequels and reinterpretations than I have the energy to count at the moment. Back in 1957-58, French screenwriter Jean-Claude Carrière wrote a series of novels featuring Frankenstein’s Monster, now named Gouroull and traveling the world following an agenda of his own making. Gouroull has utter disdain for humanity as a whole and is as likely to murder temporary allies as he is enemies. I’ve never read the Carrière novels (English translations appear to be out of print and highly priced on the secondary market), but I have read Frank Schildiner’s three sequels published by Black Coat Press, which are the subject of today’s post.

Frank Schildiner is a wonderful “new pulp” author whose work runs from pulp adventure (The New Adventures of Thunder Jim Wade) to sword-and-sorcery (The Warrior’s Pilgrimage) to espionage (The Klaus Protocol) to westerns, science fiction, and horror. Much of his work mixes genres, and the Frankenstein novels are no exception. Primarily horror, the books also include elements of classic pulp adventure (scientific or occult investigator type characters) and espionage thrillers (the political machinations of the fictional South American country in which The Triumph of Frankenstein takes place).

Gouroull himself is a far cry from the sympathetic Monster of Shelley’s original novel (who simply wanted to understand his place in the world and have a mate to love) and the childlike force of nature of the early Universal Studios films. If any connection/comparison is to be made, I’d say the Monster as played by Bela Lugosi (when evil hunchback Ygor’s brain had been transplanted into the Monster’s body) comes closest tonally to Carrière/Schildiner’s Gouroull. But where Lugosi’s Monster simply had the potential to be a Force of Evil, Gouroull IS that force. We are meant to be afraid of a creature made by Man but unaffected by human emotions of love and want. Gouroull’s search for someone capable of creating him a Mate is powered by the biological imperative to propagate the species as much as by his disdain for weaker/lesser humanity – there’s not a speck of sentiment or loneliness to be seen. This makes Gouroull a hard character to sympathize with – which is not the same as making him a hard character to root for.

On the contrary, throughout the three books I found myself mostly wanting Gouroull to succeed, mostly because the other characters he encounters and does battle with are even less friendly/sympathetic. (I say “mostly” only because Gouroull’s quest in The Spells of Frankenstein involves bringing the Elder Gods of the Lovecraft Mythos back to Earth, and I mean really, who wants that mission to succeed?) Gouroull does battle with vampires (including but not limited to several “soul clones” of Dracula), sorcerers, necromancers, ghosts, mad scientists (paging Doctors Herbert West and Elizabeth Frankenstein) and other supernatural menaces, but even the theoretically heroic characters he meets (monster hunters named Hezekiah Whately and Martin Mars) are reprehensible, highlighting the worst in human greed and hubris. It’s a pleasure to see characters like these get their come-uppance against a force of nature they cannot overcome.

Even though Gouroull is the focus of each book, these are very much ensemble cast novels. Chapters switch between various characters’ points of view as they are drawn into contact with the Monster, and we get insight into who they are before they encounter in (and why they’re searching for him, when they are) as well as how their encounter changes them (when they survive, that is). It’s an effective way to build tension in each book, but is particularly effective in The Spells of Frankenstein, where we meet a pair of heroic human characters of Schildiner’s creation who I would love to see more of in their own books/stories: the Muslim adventurers Faisal and Fatimah. (To a lesser extent, I was also intrigued by  Moraika, the tribal wise woman/shamaness Schildiner created for a sub-plot in Triumph and would like to see her plotline continued as well.)

As is the wont of many “new pulp” writers, Schildiner tosses “easter eggs” liberally throughout these books – nods at classic horror and adventure literary and movie characters. And he does it in ways that don’t distract from the on-going narrative. If you know who is being referenced, great. If not, you can always check the author’s notes at the end of each book. I found those notes inspiring interest in a long list of books I’ve not yet read and movies I’ve not yet seen, especially where the nods were in the form of pastiche or homage rather than outright use of a character.

It’s rare these days for an author to write a series in which the books can be read in any order. Like Seanan McGuire’s Wayward Children series, Frank Schildiner’s Frankenstein books each stand alone, complete unto themselves while still having an obvious place in the overall structure of the series. Read the series in publication order (as I did) or in character chronology order (or, I guess, if you’re one of the lucky folks who have the Carrière novels, read Schildiner’s books where they take place within that chronology), whichever fits your fancy.

There may or may not be further Gouroull novels by Schildiner and Black Coat Press. If there are, I look forward to which gaps in the character’s history Schildiner fills in next. If there aren’t, these books together still tell a trio of tales about a version of Frankenstein’s Monster that is not sympathetic but is compelling.