–> On a related note, a piece about reader-shaming and genre fiction.

–> Over at DIY MFA, there’s a great post about what you promise the reader in the opening pages of a story or novel.

–> On the non-writerly, personal side of things, there is a super piece here about bad relationships. Aimed at teenagers, but worth reading at any age.

–> And on a happier TV junkie note, some fabulous bits of Cougar Town Season 3. (I may have mentioned my love of this show previously. It is very very funny, and has a super cast. YAY for season 3!)

It got me thinking about my favourite series of that ilk and how they handle the whole authorship thing (because I am weird like that). You know, the ghost-written or half-ghost-written or speedily-written kind, where six or twelve or twenty-four books would come out a year.

Francine Pascal is obviously the queen of this (James Patterson is probably the king). ‘Created’ the Sweet Valley series, wrote none of ‘em (except the ten-years-on sequel, which is generally acknowledged as deeply flawed). Each series was labelled as ‘written by’ a specific author – e.g. ‘Laurie John’ for the Sweet Valley University series, ‘Jamie Suzanne’ for the Sweet Valley Twins books, umbrella pseudonyms for a whole bunch of ghostwriters. Those names were drawn from Pascal’s own family. Pascal also created the Caitlin trilogies, the first of which was actually written by Joanna Campbell, who’d go on to create and write the Thoroughbred series, which was eventually taken over by ghostwriters (as far as I know these were mentioned in the acknowledgements).

Cherie Bennett created and wrote the Sunset Island books, and also wrote TV tie-in novels, sometimes with her husband, as C.J. Anders. (Several of the Dawson’s Creek tie-in novels are by her – her style comes through and there’s snarky dialogue, but inevitably because of the delay between writing and publication and how the series was going, the pairings-up of the characters are always slightly skewed.) Bennett can write quickly, but the continuity sometimes suffers.

There are two different stories of how Cecily von Ziegesar developed the Gossip Girl series, one which is very book-packager-esque and the other is very individual-author-presents-idea-based-on-her-own-high-school-days. It’s a packaged series but the idea of the author is a powerful one, marketing-wise, so the second version is played up. Von Ziegesar ‘created’ The It Girl spin-off but it’s ghost-written – I haven’t read any of the books so am not sure how the author is listed.

The Cheerleaders series (genius) and series like Point Horror, Point Romance etc tended to be written by who they said they were. Many of the writers – Diane Hoh, Caroline B Cooney, Christopher Pike – went on to write single-title novels or their own series under the names used for these series books. (Christopher Pike is of course a pen-name – named after the captain in the original Star Trek pilot – but as far as I know, Diane Hoh and Caroline B Cooney are Real Names.)

It seems to be more common to have multiple authors acknowledging straight-up that they are multiple authors in series like the Point ones, with different characters/storylines each book, rather than the Cheerleaders series. The more common tendency is to go the route of mystery series – Carolyn Keene or Franklin Dixon, umbrella names for the many ghostwriters of the Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys books.

Very often writers will create a series and write the books initially, then hand over the reins to ghostwriters – K.A. Applegate (Animorphs) or R.L. Stine (Goosebumps) followed this pattern. Or they won’t be the original creator of a series but still write the books (Ann M. Martin with The Babysitters Club). The pattern for series like this – the three I’ve mentioned are all Scholastic series, incidentally – is to have the author be reasonably open about the ghostwriter’s ‘help’. There’s no ‘written by’ credit, but there is a ‘The author acknowledges the help of [whoever] in preparing this manuscript’. It’s very clever – anticipates the possible sense of betrayal a young reader might feel when the ‘author’ (whose life is often shaped in such a way to make it seem like the books are very personally important to them) isn’t actually the one who’s written the books, because look, it’s right there and they’re being up front with you, and don’t worry, the author is still in charge of things. (It also means that the more obsessive fans of the series can make lists of which ghostwriter penned which books and assess if there are any that are better than others.)

Any other ghost-written or maybe-ghost-written books you loved or still love? Any series you loved as a child and then discovered were ghost-written?

“It depends,” is what you say, because it’s all you can say. It depends on so many things.

• Are you writing a first draft, or are you revising? (Writing 1000 words is not the same as revising them.)
• Are you revising as you go, or just powering through?
• Do you know exactly where the book/story is going, or do you need to factor in thinking time? Or research time?
• How much time do you have per day? Per week? Per month?
• How much can you reasonably write within that time?
• What’s your limit for ‘workable’ words per day/week? (e.g. you can write 1000 words a day and know they’ll be okay, but going to 2000 words will mean that there’s unusable rubbish in there)
• Can you write at the same pace throughout the week? When will you take breaks? (Taking breaks = good thing.)
• Are you under contract for this book? When is it due and how much do you need to write per day/week/month to meet that deadline?

Would love to hear your answers on this one, everyone! How much do you write each day that you write – and is that every day, every weekday, every second day, or occasional days only?

John Green – The Fault In Our Stars
Regular readers of this blog will be aware of my wariness of hype. I did a fair bit of dithering over whether or not to buy the book in hardback, then gave in and devoured it within twenty-four hours. And. OH. In the interest of avoiding spoilers, I will just say: page 153 was the point where the book went from ‘yeah, okay, this is good’ to ‘that just stole my breath a little bit’. Pages 202-3 were perfect. Page 213 BROKE ME INTO TINY PIECES. As did almost every page after that. (I’m not especially prone to getting sad over kids-with-cancer books. I devoured far too many Lurlene McDaniel novels in my impressionable youth. But the realness of this, the quirky vivid sometimes-snarky feel of it, takes it many steps beyond the predictable.) This is being added to my ‘YA books to recommend to grown-ups and make them realise the brilliance that exists in YA’ list.

Felicity McCall – Large Mammals, Stick Insects, and Other Social Misfits
Very funny and smart and witty book set in Derry, focusing on the activities of Aimee McCourt Logan, a compulsive fifteen-year-old listmaker, and her friends. The story centres around a cross-border co-operation project between their school and a South Dublin one, but there’s lots more going on. It deals with heavy issues without ever being overwhelming, and is readable and amusing without ever feeling fluffy. One to watch out for.

Jojo Moyes – Me Before You
Grown-uppy one about a twentysomething named Lou who ends up working as a carer for a grumpy man, Will, who became a quadraplegic after a motorbike accident. Lou’s life has been a small one; Will’s was adventurous and challenging until his accident. They form an awkward sort of friendship, and then Lou finds out the reason she’s only been hired for six months. This is wonderfully funny at times, and will break your heart at others. Well worth reading.

Sarah Webb – The Shoestring Club
Julia is twenty-four and a bit of a mess. She drinks too much, doesn’t know what she wants to do with her life, and the love of her life is engaged to her ex-best friend, Lainey. When she finds herself working full-time for her prickly older sister, Pandora, in Pandora’s designer swap shop, she has a chance to use some of her creativity – but it’s not an answer to her problems by any means. Her ex, Ed, is still lurking around, and one particular episode of binge drinking has her family – including her feisty grandmother, Bird – concerned and watchful. Part of the story focuses on Julia’s scheme to get to wear the perfect dress to Lainey and Ed’s wedding, to prove she’s over it all, and the club she sets up to time-share the dress; there’s also lots about the family dynamics and Julia’s relationship with the boy next door, Jamie. (I adored Jamie from his very first appearance – what a dote.) Very readable, with a central character that I sometimes wanted to hug and sometimes wanted to applaud. Already looking forward to the sequel – from Pandora’s POV – and hoping to learn more about the other members of the Shoestring Club.

This time: TV shows. Ah, yes – a legitimate excuse to watch television. Because it’s research.

I have two personal favourite recommendations, TV-wise. One is Buffy the Vampire Slayer, especially seasons one to three (though there is some good stuff later on). Teenage angst, but with monsters. Having a whole secret identity that teachers and parents don’t understand or respect, or a boyfriend who goes evil after you sleep with him… oh, it is so good. With super, if quirky, dialogue.

The other is Dawson’s Creek. As with Buffy, there is terrific dialogue. In this case, it’s terrific, over-thinking, over-analysing-everything dialogue. But there’s also that hovering between grown-up and kid, the sulk-fest one moment and adolescent sex-obsession the next. And there is Pacey Witter.

Both of these are from the late 90s/early 00s, during which time there were also things like Roswell (teen angst! With aliens!), Felicity (she cut her haaaaaaaair!), Popular (demented yet brilliant), Freaks and Geeks (tragically short-lived). I am fond of this post-My So-Called Life era of TV, I must say. The noughties went on to bring us Gilmore Girls (possibly more family drama than teen show, but shh. Rory! Paris! Lane!) and Veronica Mars (girl detective! Darkness! Epic amounts of angst and betrayal!), and then the glamour-heavy worlds of The O.C. and Gossip Girl. And of course the high-school-drama-meets-musical fest that is Glee.

The trouble with watching teen-centric TV as research is that you need to know how interpret it. Characters in books, like characters in TV shows, have lives that tend to be slightly more dramatic and polished and scripted than real-life people. But TV shows also tend towards characters acting and seeming much older than they are (in large part because the actors playing them tend to be older), in a way that happens much more in TV than in books. And everyone is good-looking, really really ridiculously good-looking – even the ‘plain’ kids are stunning. And almost always thin or muscular, depending on gender. And have many, many different outfits and spacious living quarters, even if these things are only shown and not discussed.

On the plus side, though, teen-centric TV does a lot of the same thing that teen-centric books do. It takes various situations teen characters might find themselves in, ranging from probable to implausible, and mines them for all the drama (and romance, and comedy) they’re worth. And if it does it right, it persuades viewers to care deeply about what happens with the teen characters and the choices they make, to take them seriously or to empathise somehow. Teen-centric things aren’t the only things that ask us to do this, of course, but books and TV aimed at adults often has teen characters acting in a way that invites exasperation or amusement rather than identification. The ‘oh to be young and know everything!’ sort of vibe.

So, legitimate research? Absolutely. And not just a reason to gaze adoringly at Joshua Jackson or David Boreanaz in their 20something primes. Nope. Certainly not.

John Green – Paper Towns
I am torn. There is plenty of niftiness here, but for something that’s trying to deconstruct the Manic Pixie Dream Girl idea, it also ends up validating it an awful lot. There’s cleverness, and many quotable quotes, and I love the whole copyright trap thing, and the interactions between the friends, but ultimately I think I wanted more than just Margo’s overly-articulate speeches of explanation and backstory at the end. I wanted her thoughts, her take on things the whole way through; I wanted us to see the misimagining rather than have it explained for us at the end. And I wanted to see Q as someone more than an average high school senior obsessed with the girl next door. So slightly disappointed in this one (I know, I know, sacrilege – and possibly more about what I was hoping for from the book than what the book was hoping for) but I’ll still be reading The Fault In Our Stars to see how it goes.
[Note from later: read TFIOS. Thoughts in next book-post!]

Kristen Tracy – A Field Guide for Heartbreakers
Dessy and Veronica, best friends and aspiring writers, are off to Prague for a writers’ seminar. Even though they’ve applied for a non-fiction seminar, they end up in the short story section that Veronica’s mother is teaching. Both of them have recently had break-ups – Dessy, the narrator, quieter than Veronica, still misses her boyfriend (who gave her a laminated list of her faults) a lot, while Veronica’s determined to flirt and possibly more with as many Hot Dudes as possible during their time in Prague. A very funny and astute book, with as much focus on friendships, family, and storytelling as there is on romance. I really loved all the bits set in the creative writing seminar (apparently I don’t get enough of that in real life!) too.

Josie Bloss – Faking Faith
I loved the concept of this book as soon as I heard it. Dylan is a pariah at school after a ‘sexting’ incident, and she becomes obsessed with a particular set of blogs – especially blogs by homeschooled Christian fundamentalist girls who are all about serving the Lord, submitting to the men in their lives, and being chaste. Dylan creates an alter ego, Faith, and in time befriends one particular blogger, Abigail, who eventually invites her to stay with her for a couple of weeks. It’s more than just a ‘fake identity’ story and a ‘be careful what you wish for’ tale – even though Dylan is initially enchanted by the rural wholesome lifestyle, and then sees some of the more problematic aspects of such a limited world, its good points are still acknowledged. There’s a love story too, with some swoon-worthy kisses. Well worth checking out.

S.J. Adams – Sparks
Another Flux book – I am very much liking the stuff they’re doing. Debbie has been in love with her best friend Lisa for years, who’s super-pure and wholesome. Debbie’s been hiding bits of herself – including her probable atheism – from Lisa, but when she finds out Lisa’s about to hook up with her vile boyfriend, she ends up on a wacky night-long quest with Emma and Tim, two believers in a made-up religion called Bluedaism, to stop it from happening. Lots of quirkiness here, and the rush of new friendships is portrayed convincingly.

Elizabeth Scott – Between Here and Forever
Abby waits for her older sister Tess to wake up from a coma, but when she meets the very-yummy Eli, she finds herself seen as herself, and not perfect Tess’s younger sister, for the first time in her life. Always in her sister’s shadow, Abby is angry and hurt by a number of things, but as she learns more about Tess’s secret life she realises they have more in common than she previously thought. Fast-paced but emotionally engaging read.

So, yes, obligatory YouTube video!

(I think ‘Defying Gravity’ is probably the most extraordinary one in terms of the set and special effects, but ‘For Good’ is just gorgeous.)

I also encountered The Tulip for the first time ever, which I was partly amazed and partly horrified by. It’s a wine glass shape, which is infinitely classier than normal plastic cups, and yes you can tell the difference, but it also has a yoghurt-style foil lid thing. Very odd experience, pulling such a thing off a surprisingly drinkable wine. The wonders of technology!

Popular – Gareth Russell
If Ryan Murphy and Cecily von Ziegesar had a baby, then immersed it thoroughly in the nuances of Belfast life, this would be what you’d get. The novel focuses on the popular crowd and the borderline-sociopathic behaviour used to manipulate situations and to, well, be fabulous. The proportion of zappy, often bitchy one-liners per page is impressive, and (as I have been squeeing about on twitter), it also wins bonus points for featuring LGBT characters and acknowledging bisexuality exists. Ooh, and for sneaky historical references (Meredith being compared to Elizabeth I – marvellous).

Adam Gidwitz – A Tale Dark and Grimm
Oh. This is genius. Lots of Grimm fairy tales woven in together cleverly, with Hansel and Gretel at the centre of it. So much fun (and lots of gory bits), and yet moving and wise at the same time. A must-read for anyone into their fairy tales.

Cat Clarke – Torn
Cat Clarke’s second book is just as fast-paced, compulsively readable and authentically teenage (especially the nastiness) as her first. Maybe more so. Alice is not a total outcast, but not popular – not like bitchy Tara, who she was friends with once upon a time. On a school trip, Alice ends up in a cabin with four others: her best friend, a social climber who hates Tara, a music-addicted emo girl, and Tara herself. When they decide to teach Tara a lesson, things go Horribly Wrong. It’s what happens afterwards – at school, amongst the girls, and with Tara’s brother Jack – that the book is mostly concerned with. While the plotline in some ways does what you expect (there is horrible guilt that can only be borne for so long!), it twists and turns in other ways. Well worth checking out.

Mary McEvoy – How The Light Gets In
For most Irish people Mary McEvoy will forever be Biddy in Glenroe, although I remember her much more vividly from her performance in Dublin’s first performance of The Vagina Monologues – I still remember some of her intonations and gestures. Whereas my recollections of her in Glenroe are nothing but a series of big knitted jumpers. Anyway. McEvoy has spoken openly about her struggles with depression throughout her adult life, and in this book she shares her thoughts and coping mechanisms. It’s part memoir, part self-help, and occasionally preachy (though usually about areas other than mental health) but mostly very useful and wise. Lots of Buddhism and quotes and an emphasis on living with rather than curing depression. (It’s also interesting from a social history point of view, with snippets about the theatre and TV world in Ireland before the Celtic Tiger.)

So, season 8 of Grey’s Anatomy (up to 8.09, anyway). I am still liking Meredith (yes, I like Meredith. Stop looking at me like that) and Arizona (so cute! So awesome!) and Owen (especially his struggles-with-being-chief). I am liking Richard in his new role an awful lot, and continue to think Callie is fabulous. I am not too impressed with Bailey and hoping someone tells her off soon and the show actually presents this as acceptable rather than crazy (I mean, between the not-so-amazing treatment of the men in her life plus the complete disrespect towards Owen as Chief… seriously).

And I am adoring April Kepner. So here are my five favourite April moments/plots:

1. The shooting episode OF DOOM in which there is apparently no hospital security whatsoever, and in which April’s snarky best friend has been already shot dead by the killer. April tells him everything about herself – makes him see her as a person. And he tells her to run.
2. Her crush on Derek Shepherd. She gets mocked for it, but given that he’s presented as this Amazing Guy and Neurosurgeon, it makes sense. And is sweet.
3. Her interactions with Dr Stark (aka Peter McNicol, who will forever be John Cage on Ally McBeal in my head). Tension, respect, sexual tension, friendship. Just a world of loveliness. I would have loved seeing more of this.



4. Her friendship with Jackson. Something I would love to see more of – particularly as they’re the only two Mercy West kids left – but it has its moments. Like after she and Alex have almost slept together (which I am sort-of rooting for, if it happens without yelling), and then he’s rotten to her, and Jackson has this protective-older-brother thing going on when she needs him. But he still won’t let her boss him around when she becomes Chief Resident.
5. Her being Chief Resident. This pleases me immensely. I love her checklist, and why she knows it’s important. I love her struggles to make people listen to her, and how she’s not a natural leader in some ways and yet has many of the organisational skills she needs for the job. And I nearly applauded when she just told Alex, Lexie and Jackson what to do after they’d been ignoring her all day: “Any of you argue with me and I’ll take you off the OR board. Indefinitely. I, on the other hand, just got fired from Bailey’s trial, so I’m going to spend the night drinking and flirting with boys.”

Tom Perrotta – The Leftovers
I love Tom Perrotta. A lot. A lot a lot. I was slightly wary of this one – a depiction of a post-Rapture society – but actually it’s classic Perrotta. The small details and secrets and neuroses of everyday life, with gorgeous sentences and nifty characters. Perrotta’s previous book, The Abstinence Teacher, explored the power of religion in American society; The Leftovers asks what would happen if the Rapture – or a Rapture-like phenomenon – took place. The focus is on the small scale – what happens to a particular town, a particular couple of families. Nora lost her husband and her two children; while Kevin’s family has split apart – his wife’s joined a cult called the Guilty Remnant, his daughter’s grown distant, and his son’s followed a preacher, Holy Wayne, who’s recently been at the centre of a scandal. The story moves quietly through these lives, focusing on moments, small events, even as the plot twists and turns in ways sometimes surprising, sometimes chilling. There’s an element of social satire here, but it’s more wry-smile and knowing-nod than laugh-out-loud funny. A hugely enjoyable read, though I’d have loved for it to be longer.

Elizabeth O’Hara – Snobs, Dogs and Scobies
Originally written in Irish, now translated into English this year. Ruán, Emma and Colm are about to sit their Leaving Cert exams, but an accident changes everything. There’s a lot happening here but it’s never melodramatic, and the characters are all well-drawn. The gaps between the well-to-do and the working classes are explored, and it’s a really authentic South Dublin setting (some nice details in there about buses, colleges, etc). She has a new book out as Gaeilge this year too, but as someone still scarred from the last full-length text she read in Irish (An Triail), I’ll be keeping my fingers crossed for a translation of that one, too.

Cathy Kelly – Past Secrets
It’d been a while since I’d read Cathy Kelly, but this one doesn’t disappoint (I’ve also caught up with Once In A Lifetime and Lessons in Heartbreak recently – both excellent). The residents of Summer Street all have secrets – middle-aged Christie, keeping something from her devoted husband; respectable Faye, hiding the truth about her past from her daughter; insecure Maggie, haunted by the bullying she experienced at school. Secrets have a way of coming out, though, and what happens when they do shapes this warm and page-turning story.

Nora Roberts – River’s End
As someone who is consistently rubbish at guessing the identity of the villain, I was very pleased to guess something early on that turned out to be right. Yay! Anyway. Olivia is the daughter of two film stars, and age four she goes downstairs to find her father, bloody scissors in hand, hovering over her mother’s dead body. Angst ensues. She goes to live with her grandparents, keeping in touch with Frank Brady, the policeman who found her that night, and his family, including his son, Noah, who remains fascinated by the case – and Olivia – throughout his life. Olivia is a marvellous tough cookie, and the dynamic between her and Noah is excellent. One to curl up with and get sucked into.

Sinéad Moriarty – Whose Life Is It Anyway
Also published as ‘Keeping It In the Family’, I have recently discovered. This was the first of Sinéad Moriarty’s books I’d read, having heard very good things about her. And while there’s a lot to like – the voice, snappy dialogue, the flashbacks to a convincingly self-absorbed teenage self – this book struck me as fairly problematic. The story shifts between the protagonist’s adolescence, in the mid-eighties, and the ongoing crisis in her life, in the late nineties – namely, that her fiancé, Pierre, is black and her parents won’t approve. There are some potentially interesting points made about culture (Niamh’s background/upbringing is Irish/English, Pierre’s is Martinique/French/English), but all-in-all it comes across as deeply, deeply screwed-up without ever being acknowledged as such. It’s accepted by all the characters – including Pierre himself – that it’s okay for Niamh’s family to find it problematic that she’s found a black fiancé rather than a good Irish Catholic. Now, racism does exist, still, obviously, but it tends to be a little more subtle and insidious than is presented here, where all the characters gasp and go ‘Oh, he’s not black, is he? Why did you have to find yourself a black husband?’ Niamh’s extended family are also deeply screwed up, but this is played oddly, not quite for laughs – her teenage cousin pushes her drunk father down the stairs to his death and this is covered up, her dad’s family manipulate him into giving them money despite not needing it. And I can’t see how anyone living in Ireland could not find it deeply cringeworthy that their family is so over-the-top leprechauny. And it’s played straight – she hears about Irish history from her grandparents and becomes pro-Irish, and her reconciliation of two cultures is talked about towards the end. I’d be interested in trying out another of her books, but this one made me distinctly uncomfortable and not quite convinced.

Heather Morrall – Shrink
Eloise is sixteen, about to sit her GCSEs, and anorexic. She has a troubled, tense relationship with her father, whose nervous breakdowns after the deaths of his son and wife (Eloise’s little brother and her mum) have meant that Eloise has spent much of her childhood worrying about him. Most of the book focuses on various meanings of the word ‘shrink’ – Eloise’s English class are looking at Gulliver’s Travels and the tiny people of that are mentioned, but also the shrinking that Eloise is trying to do to herself, and the ‘shrinks’ she deals with in her quest to get better. I found her therapists deeply upsetting – she sees three in total, and the first two are utterly horrible people. Now, there are useless therapists around, certainly, but I found it difficult to believe that two separate therapists could be that awful and mean and unprofessional and for it not to be an issue, for there not to have been countless complaints (even if nothing was ultimately done about it). There’s a hint of that from a girl Eloise meets, Abigail, but the comments don’t even get close to the complete and utter screwed-up-ness of these women. For me this was less a novel about anorexia as it was about deeply, deeply problematic issues with the treatment of it in ‘the system’, but the book focuses more on the former.

Melissa Hill – Please Forgive Me
Leonie leaves Dublin for San Francisco, and along with a new friend, becomes fascinated by a set of unopened letters all ending with a plea for forgiveness. Another great Melissa Hill title with a twisty mystery at the centre.

Joanne Horniman – About a Girl
Australian YA novel about Anna’s first love – the beautiful Flynn, a musician with a secret or two up her sleeve. Introspective, beautifully written.

Liz Kessler – A Year Without Autumn
Gorgeous novel for 9+ about growing up, friendship, family, and time travel. Jenni is twelve, on holidays with her family at the same resort as her best friend, Autumn. When she steps a year into the future, she learns about a tragedy that alters both of their families forever – can she prevent it? I’m a sucker for time travel stories that focus on characterisation rather than adventure and sci-fi-ness (see also Rebecca Stead’s When You Reach Me, for the same age, or Audrey Niffenegger’s The Time Traveller’s Wife for grown-up types), and this didn’t disappoint.

Damian Dibben – The History Keepers: The Storm Begins
And speaking of time travel… This first volume in a new series features time travel through history, in order to save it from the bad guys. Our hero, Jake Djones, discovers his missing parents are members of the secret History Keepers organisation, and joins the quest to find them and discover what’s going on in sixteenth-century Venice. The book is packed with fun historical references (some more accurate than others) and nifty ideas; the trouble for me was that the supporting characters (the style-conscious young agent Nathan and Jake’s aunt Rose get some of the best lines, for example) consistently outshone Jake. He has a couple of endearing moments, but his shift from passive to active hero didn’t feel particularly convincing. Overall the book feels like something waiting to be adapted for the screen (which it will be shortly, I believe) rather than a novel; so many of the scenes have sudden viewpoint shifts or things that would just work better on screen. There are also a few too many characters introduced here to get a handle on all of them (there’s a lot being set up for future volumes). A bit disappointing, but I like the premise an awful lot and will probably check out the next book in the series just to see how it goes (out autumn 2012).