Book Review: Incarceron

Incarceron by Catherine Fisher
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Claudia's father is the warden of Incarceron, a prison that no one knows where it is but is rumored to be a paradise to rehabilitate the prisoners, but Claudia is certain that her father is keeping secrets. In a strange game of politics, Claudia is determined to end her betrothal to the prince and to get out of her father's strategies for gaining power. She is certain that the key lies within Incarceron. If she can find it, maybe, just maybe, she can save her kingdom, her people, and herself.

Finn is imprisoned in Incarceron and he finds a key, the key that he hopes will lead him to the Outside and reveal to him his secret past. For the key is marked with the same tattoo that appears on Finn's wrist.

This was an amazing well done story with a complex plot and an even more complex world. I loved Claudia--she was smart and stubborn. I found the prison of Incarceron to be quite fascinating, a whole separate world from the one that Claudia lives in.

My only complaint is the ending. A cliffhanger ending is okay; I know that there's another book to this series. But for some reason, the ending just didn't resonate with me.


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Runt of the Litter

Her ankle screamed with pain, the trap’s teeth biting into her foot. Four creatures surrounded her, creatures shaped like her but taller and hair on their faces. She had never seen anyone else like her before. She crouched, hissing.

One poked her with a spear, slicing her arm. He laughed. Another peeled the rags off his body; she watched him warily. Her nostrils flared; something in the air smelled wrong. Fear ran like ice down her spine. She glanced about, searching for a way to escape. Hissing again, she tried to scoot away, but the heavy metal attached to her foot held her down. She yowled, and the creatures jeered.

A sound behind her and then a shadow jumped out of the trees. The creatures, one by one, fell as the shadow spun around them. Then the shapeless shadow crouched before her, a face in hers. Dark brown eyes that reminded her of the flame that had flickered in her mother’s eyes stared at her, and a soft voice mewed gently, a murmur that reminded her of Mother’s voice singing her to sleep. She didn’t know what he meant, but she trusted his tone.

The teeth opened and he slipped her leg out. He picked her up, and she saw Mother Tiger lying on the ground, blood pooling around her. Whimpering, she pressed her face into his chest. His hand stroked her hair, and she could feel the rumble in his chest when he spoke, the words foreign to her ears.

She breathed him in, the smells reminding her of home—fresh pine, animal hides, the musky odor of the earth. And something else too. Something pleasant. This must be the smell of Man, the dangerous creature Mother Tiger always warned her to stay away from.

Through the woods, he carried her to a den built above the ground, made from fallen trees. Inside, it was warm. He set her on something soft and wrapped in warm hides. Hides without fur. It felt strangely smooth to her fingers.

He tugged at the rags around her foot, pushing, jabbing at the painful sores. Hissing, scratching at him, she pulled away. But his low voice rumbled at her, quiet, soothing, and he gently wiped the blood away. At first, it stung, then it soothed, and his voiced made her feel sleepy. He gave her warm milk to drink, and her eyes drifted shut.

###

She woke to the thud of the door banging shut. With a cry, she sat up, and he stood before her, two black tiger kittens in his hands. He dumped them in her lap, her sister and brother.

She cried and smiled as they tumbled over each other, trying to lick her face. Hands on his hips, he stood beside them, grinning. “Looks like you were the runt of the litter.”

She frowned. “Grrr. Rrrnnn. Rrrrrnnnnnt. Ruuuuunnnt.” She poked her chest with her thumb. “Runt.”

Unlocked

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Unlocked

by Jaimey Grant

Giveaway ends October 31, 2010.

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Group Projects, part two

I interrupt the normal broadcast to bring you this question:

anyway, how to join a group project?
--Rollie

By Invitation
My first project was an anthology. I like to hang out on the goodreads group On Fiction Writing (affectionately referred to as OFW), and published author Carlos J. Cortes, who leads the group, had a vision of a group project and invited all OFW members to submit stories. I submitted two stories for the project and both were accepted.

Pros: You have less responsibility when you are invited into a project that someone else has envisioned. It’s a good place to start for someone who has never been involved in a group project before.

Cons: You’d have to be at the right place, at the right time, and know the right people.


By Proposal
My second project was another anthology in which I was one of the founders / editors of the project. Wendy and I planned the project and invited submissions from the group of writers who were members of the writing group we moderated.

Pros: You get to choose who you work with and how the project will be organized.

Cons: The weight of success is on your shoulders as you carry the responsibility of leading the project. It’s a lot of work.

Group Projects, part one

No man dies to himself. No man lives to himself. Art is always influenced by others.

In the past 12 months, I have been a part of 5 different group projects--2 succeeded, 2 failed, and 1 still in progress. A lot of lessons learned came out of both the successes and the failures. When you fail, you can get up and try again. Or you can wallow in selfishness and blame everyone else.

















I am picturing scenes from one of my favorite movies: Meet the Robinsons.

In the quote below, the Bowler Hat Guy is revealing that he is Lewis's childhood roommate. This is the moment when Lewis realizes the truths taught to him by his friend Wilbur and Mildred, the orphanage caretaker.

Lewis: Goob, I had no idea!

Bowler Hat Guy: Shut up! And don't call me "Goob"! How many evil villians do you know that can pull off a name like "Goob"? Bleh!

Lewis: Look, I'm sorry your life turned out so bad. But don't blame me you messed it up yourself. You just focused on the bad stuff when all you had to do was... let go of the past and keep moving forward...

Bowler Hat Guy: Hmm, let's see... take responsiblity for my own life or blame you? Dingdingdingdingding! Blame you wins hands down!

Two things you need for a successful group project: a good group and a good plan.

Group Qualities

#1. Shared vision.
In humility, I must say that my work is a culmination of inputs from so many outside sources: the books I read, the writers I talk to, the friends who edit for me, my life experiences. Yet I don't take input from people who don't share my vision. My husband shares my vision, and that makes him the best sounding board. He listens fully to my idea before he begins to interject ideas. He loves my characters, he enjoys my plots, and he likes my writing.

#2. Respect and trust.
For Unlocked, I worked with Wendy Swore. Prior to embarking on this project, we had been friends for quite some time before we ventured into this project together. We had swapped editing jobs for each other. We managed a goodreads group together. These little projects built understanding, respect, and trust. I knew what kind of writer and person she was.

#3. Common knowledge.
My friend and fellow author Renee Miller is an excellent resource to go to for editing. She has studied writing as extensively as I have and shares my opinions on what's the best way to do things. Sometimes she's more insightful than I am, but there is a common ground in the knowledge we share.

#4. Variant skills.
In publishing Unlocked, Wendy was handy with a camera. Jaimey was great with the turning Wendy's photos into a cover. I did the typesetting. Gwen made bookmarks. Everyone helped with the editing. So much to be done, and it never would have worked if we hadn't pulled together. No room for egos when you have a deadline!


More coming tomorrow on coming up with a plan.

Mockingjay

*** CAUTION!!! SPOILERS!!! ***

Nothing I've read has ever moved me like this book. Suzanne Collins has written a trilogy that has festered in my soul since finishing Mockingjay back in August.

The world filled my senses. I could taste the soup. I could hear the crunch of the bones as Katniss walked through what was left of District 12. I could smell the hospital and the sweat. I could feel Katniss's tears. I wanted to reach through the book and rescue Peeta, and when they mind-raped him, I cried.

I've heard people complain about the deaths. "Not necessary," someone cried. But Hunger Games isn't entertainment. Mockingjay is a story about war. One death was the loss of potential. A girl with hopes and dreams, plans for her future. Killed by a bomb. A man who finally marries the love of his life. It was potential realized. Someone needed him. He finally found peace in a lifetime of tragedy.

In the words of Arya, "...this book wasn't "fun". It was horrible, but it was beautiful."

My husband read the book first. "A happy ending?" I asked him.

"It was the right ending," he answered.

This isn't the story of victory. This is the story of war. And for every victory, Katniss and Peeta took deep wounds to their spirits, until their souls were empty. As Arya said, horrible.

And yet when Peeta planted the primroses next to Katniss's house, it was beautiful.