Monday, 1 June 2026

Review: D'ORC Volume 1: The Book of Certain Doom

D'ORC Volume 1: The Book of Certain Doom D'ORC Volume 1: The Book of Certain Doom by Brett Bean
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

Not for me.

It's a satire on a certain type of D&D, where, regardless of "alignment" with good or evil (here, light or dark), both sides just want to destroy the other side with ruthless violence. Maybe also a satire on contemporary US politics? Is it that deep?

The title character, being half (light) dwarf, half (dark) orc, doesn't automatically belong to either side, and there's no moral difference between them that would enable him to choose one over the other to support. So he's just trying to help everyone, and be a decent person. His violence-oriented magic talking shield thinks this is quixotic. The two sides both want to destroy him, because of a prophecy that a figure like him will destroy the world "as we know it" (pretty obvious what that means - end the stupid, pointless battles - but they don't see it that way). An undead chicken that he accidentally mostly killed, consisting of a headless body and the ghost of a head, doesn't have anything so coherent as an opinion, but hangs out with him anyway.

There's nothing wrong with the premise, but the working out of it involves frequent gory battles and lots of death and dismemberment, and I'm just not into it. I can see why the Dungeon Crawler Carl author was asked to blurb it; it's not my thing in exactly the way that DCC isn't.

Plenty of people will love it, though.

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Review: The Royal Academy of Magical Baking: A Cozy Slice-of-Life Fantasy

The Royal Academy of Magical Baking: A Cozy Slice-of-Life Fantasy The Royal Academy of Magical Baking: A Cozy Slice-of-Life Fantasy by Anne Crews
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

To get into the Academy, the protagonist bakes a relatively simple vanilla cake following a well-known recipe, enhanced with simple spells, that is, nevertheless, well executed and surprisingly enjoyable. I don't know if this is consciously intended as a metaphor for the book, but it certainly works as one.

The editing is decent, for one thing, which is rare. I did have some quibbles with elements of the book, but only four or five were editing issues, all relatively minor.

I wrote down some predictions at the 9% mark about how it would go, and almost half of my predictions were correct, mainly about how particular characters would act. I wasn't right about the order in which people would be eliminated from the course (it's set up kind of like a reality show: twelve bakers take the entrance exam, six pass, of whom one will be eliminated in each of the three terms of the first year, leaving three to progress to the second and third years of the course). But by the time each elimination came up, it was clear who was going - right up to the end, which surprised me.

So it's not just made from box mix, which was a relief. It has enough surprising or fresh elements that it's saved from being completely expected, something for which I've dinged books a star in the past. It is, however, firmly cozy, though I'm not sure it completely qualifies as "slice of life" - it has a bit too much plot for that to be the case. (Not a criticism, just an observation that the subtitle could be slightly misleading.)

Like practically all cozy fantasy, it's weak on worldbuilding. There's barely enough to enable the story to be what it is, and the gaps are filled either from Bland Generic Fantasy Setting #1 or direct ports from our world (days of the week, measuring units, even wanting to have popcorn when watching something entertaining).

I'm used to worldbuilding being a weakness of cozy, though I'm not reconciled to it. But at least it has only one truly jarring intrusion from our world, and it's minor (the popcorn). While the world is thin, it at least doesn't feel like 21st-century Americans cosplaying in front of scenery flats, like a lot of cozy books; it has just enough illusion of being a fantasy world that I could relax into it and enjoy the story.

And I did enjoy it. I liked the characters, I believed their actions (even when they were predictable), I wanted Lyra, the protagonist, to succeed, and I enjoyed the cozy feel of everything, even the (for the characters) high-stakes exam moments. It was fun, and I'd eat... I mean, read another.

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Monday, 25 May 2026

Review: The Chestermarke Instinct

The Chestermarke Instinct The Chestermarke Instinct by J.S. Fletcher
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

An unusual classic mystery. Rather than the standard body in the library, we have the absence of somebody - a bank manager who has disappeared, along with some securities belonging to the bank and some valuable jewellery belonging to a nearby aristocrat who's a friend of his, and left them with him for safekeeping. The thing is, nobody who knows him well - the bank clerk who was his ward, his niece, his friend the earl - believes for a moment that he would steal these things and abscond. The niece, who's wealthy in her own right, having inherited a profitable brewery business, calls in the police, over the objections of the unlikeable owners of the bank, and offers a reward and to fund any search or advertising that might be necessary.

While the plot is partially set up by coincidence (as it eventually turns out), it doesn't rely on coincidence to solve it; that's all done through protagonist effort, both of the bank clerk ward and the niece on the amateur side, and the local superintendent and the Scotland Yard detective sergeant on the professional side. The dramatic climax involves an implausibly powerful explosive, but everything else is believable and makes sense, the crime is pleasingly complex, the working out enjoyable to watch, and the comeuppance of the villains satisfactory. There's a romance thread - though not much of one - which is nothing out of the ordinary. All the characters are well drawn and distinctive. Overall, a solid mystery story, and I will be searching out more J.S. Fletcher; I read a couple of others before this one ( The Copper Box and The Middle Temple Murder ) and enjoyed them both.

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Review: The Mudpuddle Manual of Natural Magic

The Mudpuddle Manual of Natural Magic The Mudpuddle Manual of Natural Magic by Ciara Blume
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I generally avoid what I refer to as "this damn thing again" when I see it. By that I mean a book in which a young-to-middle-aged woman with nothing much positive going on in her life (either no relationship or one that recently ended, and a job and living situation she can leave without regret), who inherits a property and/or business from an elderly relative, goes back to her hometown, discovers she has a magical heritage, meets a love interest and participates in solving a mystery. There's generally also a best friend and a cute animal. There seem to be thousands of books now with this exact setup, and I grew sick of them years ago, particularly since they're usually badly executed.

This one, though, inserted a couple of twists on the tired formula and slipped it past me before I twigged. For a start, the heroine, Maida, already technically owned the house/business, a bookshop and cafe; she just didn't know it. Also, the elderly relative (a great-aunt) who's been running the place isn't dead, though Maida doesn't know this either (for sure) for quite a while - the reader does, though. The cute animal belongs to the romantic interest's daughter (he's a widower), not to the heroine. The best friend plays very little role and is offstage for the entire book, spoken to only on the phone.

This is a version of our world without cellphones and, I think, without the internet, so around a 1980s or even 1970s tech level. The main impact this has is that people aren't always able to contact each other or call for help if there isn't a landline nearby, though some of the magical people have telepathic watches that are early-internet-adjacent. There are shifters, witches, fae, and (offscreen, with the best friend) vampires. It's possible that this started life as a Harry Potter fanfic, or at least used elements of the HP universe; the phrase "wizarding world" comes up at one point, and male magic users are sometimes called "wizards," though there do seem to be Ordinary (= muggle) people who have found a way to use magic, and are called "mages". There's a whole pureblood thing going on, too. The chapters are headed with extracts from several different books, and one is about how important it is to preserve pure witch/wizard bloodlines (it's about as awful as you'd expect). Marriages between witches and shifters are severely looked down upon and often don't produce viable offspring, but sometimes they do, and not all "pureblood" families are actually as pure as they pretend.

Departing from HP, there is "synthetic magic," which is addictive for magicals and gives Ordinaries some degree of ability. It's a major plot driver, and the antagonist is a startup douche who founded the company that makes and distributes it. He's utterly unconcerned about negative effects, and practically argues that they're a feature (see above under "startup douche"). 

Maida makes a mostly pleasant main character, with a distressing backstory which she gets over without much difficulty. There are several sympathetic male characters besides the love interest (Maida's father, his executive assistant who's like a brother to her, an elderly wizard we meet near the beginning). Everyone's nice except the startup douche and Maida's aunt, who's determined to take offence at and criticize absolutely everything about her, though they all have their flaws and foibles as well. Her great-aunt is the secondary protagonist, and has a satisfying arc.

I had a pre-publication copy from Netgalley, and there are some commas where they shouldn't be, a few apostrophe errors and a shortage of hyphens in compound adjectives (which aren't compulsory, at least not for American English, but do make reading easier). Hopefully it will get another edit before publication, but even if it doesn't, it's quite readable.

Overall, I found it a pleasant read, with likeable characters and a well-constructed plot, albeit built on a version of what's become the standard chassis for this type of book. If you like this kind of thing, this is certainly one, and a better-than-average one, though for me it fell short of being amazing.

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Sunday, 17 May 2026

Review: Success

Success Success by Una Lucy Silberrad
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Not a complete pig-in-a-poke novel; I had already read this author's The Good Comrade , so I knew she wrote well and that I'd be getting something that wasn't standard or expected, but I didn't have much idea what that would be. I just picked it up off the Project Gutenberg feed.

It's not in any particular genre, and it undermines the tropes of the one genre you might think it was in ((view spoiler)). But it's thought-provoking, and well worth a read.

The central character is an engineer named Michael Annarly, a brilliant man, but hard to work with because he doesn't care much what people think of him, or try to spare their feelings if he thinks they're not doing good work, and he demands special conditions that most employees wouldn't be given, in order to do his best work. When he tells his employers that he's finally finished a design for them for an "aerial torpedo" (what we would call an air-to-air missile - this is very early 20th century, and airship warfare is what's in view), something they've been wanting to get from him for a while, they almost immediately contrive an excuse to fire him. There's a good deal of hypocrisy, unfairness and outright unethical practice involved, something that becomes clearer as the story progresses.

They're an important firm, and having been fired by them for reasons that are not publicly announced, but are rumoured to have to do with his lack of professional ethics (when in fact it was theirs), he's left in a position where he probably can't get a similar job with anyone else.

Fortunately, when he's in London to plead (unsuccessfully) with one of the firm's directors, his cousin Nan sees him walking the streets, looking devastated, and kindly invites him home, where he tells her what's happened. She arranges for her father, who sells antique furniture, to give him some technical drawing work, drawing chair backs and the like for restoration and other purposes - work well below his level, but something. The two become friends, more like siblings than cousins, and in many ways it's that relationship, more than any specific work that he does, that helps Michael hang on. Nan is a quiet woman, the sort that most people overlook, and yet her intervention and her continuing support of Michael are key to the book. She also has a lot more skill than people credit her with.

It's a wonderfully humane book, full of quotable bits about engineering as well as about life. Michael is, essentially, a brilliant problem-solver, so he can go into any context where there's a technical problem to solve and figure out what's going wrong and how to fix it. At one point, though, he's brought in to do some consulting and tells his client that he can't fix the problem - it's not the machinery, it's the people. Partly through his experience, and partly through Nan, he comes to have a much better understanding of the human side of work, and is never in danger of repeating his previous mistakes.

There are some aspects of the book that fell short for me. There's a clumsily obvious foil character for Michael, the brother of a man who works for Nan's father, who, like Michael, came up with an invention that would make his employer a lot of money, and who asked for a proportionate reward. When he was given five pounds, he tore it up, threw it in his boss's face, resigned, and has now spent years working on a better invention to make the previous one worthless, as revenge. He's bitter and miserable and makes the people around him miserable too.

Then there's the moment where Nan is calling for divine judgement on the company that fired Michael just at the moment when a process he developed for them goes disastrously wrong in a way that wouldn't have happened if he'd been there, costing the directors a lot of money. (Both characters happen to be in a location close enough to the plant to hear the bang and see the flame go up just as Nan is, uncharacteristically, ranting.) It struck me as, again, too obvious.

Most of the book is not like that, though. In fact, if anything it has the opposite fault; things just happen that don't obviously contribute to the overall thrust of the book, like the extended sequence around Michael's sister's wedding, the main upshot of which is to allow Nan to meet someone who plays a relatively minor role later on. Though, thinking about it, the wedding is probably also there to highlight the conventional expectations and values of Michael's family, in contrast to how his life works out.

It's not at all a tight plot, and, with the exception of those couple of clumsy moments, it doesn't point up the theme too strongly either, which is a strength more than it's a weakness. The title, "Success," is, in a way, the theme of the book; Michael learns, as Nan already knew, that the conventional markers of success don't really matter - money, fame, marriage, recognition by your employer or by others that you've helped, like the city council whose power station Michael helps to rescue from complete disaster because he happened to be doing a consulting job next door when it failed. What matters is that you're doing good work and that there's someone who understands you; that's success. The comeuppance that is finally served to the nefarious firm and the director most responsible for Michael's dilemma is almost extraneous.

I enjoy books that are not conventional, that are quite unlike anything else, and this is one. It also has a good deal to say about topics I'm interested in: the failures and injustices built into the way work is organized, the meaning of success, the process of solving hard problems, and the importance of human connection and kindness in the world. For me, despite a couple of weaker moments, it was indeed a success.

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Thursday, 14 May 2026

Review: Strange Animals: A Novel

Strange Animals: A Novel Strange Animals: A Novel by Jarod K. Anderson
My rating: 0 of 5 stars

I was misled by the blurb, because I focused on the words "enchanting," "fun" and "cozy" and skipped over the words "haunting" and "creepy."

It's a horror novel, and I don't enjoy horror. There's a creature running round the woods killing innocent people, and it's (probably, unless there are two creatures; I stopped about of a third of the way through) a large skeletal wolf with black... stuff sometimes covering and sometimes revealing its bones. It's also intelligent and telepathic.

Really well written, well edited, fresh concepts, a terrific book in many ways, but unfortunately not at all my preferred genre, and I would have appreciated more of a heads-up about that so that I could have not bought it.

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Review: Report of Dr. Benjamin Franklin, and Other Commissioners, Charged by the King of France, with the Examination of the Animal Magnetism, as Now Practised at Paris.

Report of Dr. Benjamin Franklin, and Other Commissioners, Charged by the King of France, with the Examination of the Animal Magnetism, as Now Practised at Paris. Report of Dr. Benjamin Franklin, and Other Commissioners, Charged by the King of France, with the Examination of the Animal Magnetism, as Now Practised at Paris. by Benjamin Franklin
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

A fascinating historical document, for a few reasons.

Firstly, it's the report of a distinguished Royal Commission, including Benjamin Franklin (then US Ambassador to France), Lavoisier the chemist, and the prominent physician Guillotin, namesake (but not, as is widely believed, inventor) of the execution device which was to see so much use a few years later - including on Louis XVI, the commissioner of the study.

Second, it's an early example of experimental method, here applied to testing the claims of Mesmer about his practice of "animal magnetism". The commission concluded that there was no evidence that such a force existed, and that the effects being produced by Mesmer and his followers (one of whom cooperated closely with the commission, while Mesmer refused to do so) were the result of the physical pressure and manipulations done by the operators, alongside the power of "imagination" - in other words, what we now call the placebo effect or the mind-body connection. They established this in part by blind (but not double-blind) trials, including performing Mesmer's prescribed operations on people who were unaware of it, and not performing them while telling the subjects that they were performing them. The effects occurred when people believed the operations were being done, even though they were not, and did not occur when they were unaware that the operations were performed, confirming that it was the belief of the patient and not the actions of the operator that made the difference. It was a thorough investigation, and their conclusions are well supported.

Third, what is said about "animal magnetism" itself - Mesmer's theory and practice, and how the public sessions of "magnetisation" were done - is itself interesting in several ways. The description of the theory of "animal magnetism" - which the report shows, using an earlier study, was wholly derived from since-abandoned theories of physicians from a couple of centuries previously - bears a remarkable resemblance to eastern ideas of chi, a power underlying everything that can be circulated in the body, and for which specific points on the body are significant. I'd be interested to know whether Paracelsus and the other theorists mentioned had any contact with China and other civilizations where similar theories were held.

Further than that, the descriptions of faith healing - not only by Mesmer, but by other people at the time or in the then recent past - are classic, and sound exactly like modern faith healing, including the charismatic services I witnessed myself as a young man. Working a large group of people up into a specific state of mind by a long and elaborate ceremony; the way in which, once someone starts to have a dramatic response, others join in; the explanations for why it sometimes fails - all of these are part of a playbook which is still in use more than 250 years after the publication of this report, showing that debunking is a work that is never completed, and that people don't change that much.

The tone, of the early part of the report especially, at times has more in common with such aggressive debunkers as YouTube's Miniminuteman than with a dispassionate scientific approach, and it's clear that the writers of the report (and the introduction to the English translation) considered Mesmer to be perpetrating conscious fraud, though they don't outright accuse him of doing so. They certainly do say, strongly, that the precipitation of "crises" in which people experience pain, vomit, void their bowels, and sometimes cough up blood is harmful rather than helpful, especially when repeated and taken as the norm.

The medical terminology and beliefs of the time are old-fashioned now, of course; most of our current medical science dates from no earlier than the 19th century, and largely from the 20th. But the commissioners were able, even within their own framework of understanding, to distinguish clearly between a physical and a mental cause of the effects they observed, and that's the key point they were making.

If you're interested in the history of the scientific method, in faith healing, in the mind-body connection or in the process of debunking frauds, this relatively short book is well worth a read. You will have to navigate the 18th-century language, but it's mostly clear enough to a modern reader.

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