#926 Auger Lane

[cromulentbookreview]

Geese are the Worst

They are. They really are. A goose bit me once. Hateful birds. The only positive thing is that goose is delicious. Try it, get revenge on those hateful birds.

Or: The Dire King by William Ritter!

Way back in February of 2015, I recall stumbling across a 1.99 ebook on Amazon. I think it may have been a daily deal promotion or something, but I’m a sucker for 1.99 ebooks and I remember looking at the book's description, seeing the words "YA" and "supernatural" and "Sherlock Holmes" and being like "OK, this book is mine now." I totally intended to read it right away, too...

Yeah, that didn't work out. I buy books all the time, fully intending to read them immediately, and then not doing it. I've got one book that I bought immediately after reading about it on io9, thinking "I need to read that right now." Still haven't read it. I'll get to it, though! Eventually. Sometime in the near future when I'm not in grad school. I could get to it right now since it's Summer break but...eh...

Anyway!

That 1.99 ebook from Amazon was Jackaby by William Ritter. Last summer, I was in the mood for a historical fantasy/mystery with a Sherlock Holmes vibe but with a kickass lady protagonist, so I finally cracked open that ebook. I tore through it. So I bought the sequel, Beastly Bones. And tore through that. So then I bought Ghostly Echoes and promptly tore through that one, too. Suddenly, I was out of Jackaby books. I got the free ebook of the short story The Map, but that only lasted me one train ride from work. It was November of 2016 - remember that magical time before...well, Before? - and I was facing a long wait for Book 4, The Dire King. But I needed it now! I even told Ritter as much:

He did not oblige me. Come on, man, I thought we Oregonians were supposed to stick together! Grumble grumble grumble.

I wish I had gotten into the Jackaby series sooner. I remember seeing William Ritter at Rose City Comic Con (RCCC) - only I still hadn't read the books yet. I think he may have been there promoting Beastly Bones, the book had a yellow cover. Either way, I just remember seeing a table piled with books and me going "ooooh, books!!" and drifting towards it, only the friend who was with me tugged me off in the opposite direction (something about “we promised to meet our friends first, you can hoard books later”). RCCC, for experienced con-goers, is not very big. For inexperienced con-goers, such as myself*, RCCC is massive, super crowded, and overstuffed with booths. Basically: yeah I didn't get a chance to go back and get an autographed copy of Beastly Bones. In fact, I couldn't even find that table again and I still kick myself for that. Eh, well. Ritter is a Portland author, I'm sure he'll do a Powell's thing or something. He may yet be at RCCC again...(checks RCCC website)... goddamn it.

*(someday I'll be rich and go to SDCC or DragonCon or maybe even Emerald City Comic Con in our ancient enemy, Seattle...someday maybe I'll be cool enough to be a guest at one of these cons...ok, you can stop laughing now, let me have my dreams!)

My original point being: I wish I had gotten into the books sooner because once I did, eventually, I really, really liked them. The Jackaby series is a extremely entertaining, with mysteries, monsters, ghosts and a lot of really witty prose and dialog. The Amazon description of the first book as being "YA" and "supernatural" and "Sherlock Holmes" is actually spot on - if you've just binged through all four seasons of Sherlock and are desperate for something fun to read afterwards, then you definitely need to read these. Seriously, they're just so much fun! I binged through all of them last year during a particularly tough quarter of the Graduate School, and they were like a breath of fresh air. Then again, so is anything when you’re reading books like Charles Cutter’s Rules for a Dictionary Catalogue. (It’s as fun as it sounds!)

So the wait for book four seemed agonizingly long, but, not much I could do about that except bug the author on Twitter, so I grudgingly settled in to wait. Now, another thing about me: I am not a winner. I do not win things. I never won that German student award even though my grades were the highest and the German department was literally me, two other students and one professor. (Yes, I’m still bitter). Every now and again I win a Goodreads giveaway, but that’s mainly because I tend to enter literally every single giveaway for any book that strikes my fancy. So I don’t ever expect to win. I especially do not expect to have wishes granted. So when Netgalley let its users put in a wish for an egalley for The Dire King, I did like what I do with the Goodreads giveaways: I clicked “wish for it!” thinking: yeah that’ll never happen but, hey, I may as well click to enter.

Perhaps the fact that Algonquin Young Readers let me have an egalley is a sign that I am not a loser and that I am capable of being a winner? Who knows. Or perhaps they saw the note I put up on my Netgalley profile, literally begging them to grant my wish (I have no shame when it comes to books I want). Either way, when I saw I’d gotten an egalley, it was really, really, really hard for me not to just drop everything and read The Dire King straight through. After binging my way through the first three books and short story, I decided to pace myself with The Dire King so I could properly enjoy it. 

 And because I was busy. Shouting into the black void of the Internet doesn’t pay all too well. Despite what Ritter tells me.

So! The Dire King. I really wish I had been able to read it immediately after reading Ghostly Echoes, just for the sake of continuity. Is it every bit as fun and witty as the other Jackaby books? Yes. Are some mysteries solved? Yes. Are some questions answered? Yes, but not all. Is Douglas still a duck? Yes. Yes he is. Did The Dire King live up to my expectations? Well, nothing ever lives up to my expectations, so that's not really a fair question. But still, I felt as though I were missing something in The Dire King. It didn't feel like a finale. Maybe that's wishful thinking on my part - I'd love to read books 5, 6, 7, 8, 9... - but it didn't hit me like the final book of a series should. Maybe it would've been if I had just waited and binged on all four books like I wanted to last year, but maybe it's just the weirdness of reading a final book long after binging on the first three (plus a short story). Or perhaps it’s because series finales never ever live up to the hype the fans create around them (looking at you, Sherlock series finale). Either way, I still loved The Dire King. It’s fast-paced, exciting, and every bit as clever as the first three-and-a-half books. The three-book buildup to the massive battle against the evil Unseelie and the Dire King finally pays off, so if you’re a fan of the series, you won’t be disappointed. If you’re not a fan, please don’t read the fourth book first, that’s a terrible idea.

In all, I really just don’t want The Dire King to be the end. I desperately need a spin-off series. This cannot be the end. Please don't let this be the end. Please? I need to know more about what happens to Abigail and Charlie, I need to know if we’ll ever find out what in God’s name the R.F. in R.F. Jackaby stands for! If that was a question you were hoping book 4 would answer...uhm...I’ve got some bad news...

Sigh. I guess I’ll need to launch another Twitter campaign at Ritter.

OTHER THOUGHTS

Funny thing about egalley copies from Netgalley, though: they’re uncorrected proofs, so...the books aren’t done yet. The kindle egalley for The Dire King was riddled with grammatical errors and little glitches in formatting and in the text, it was annoying as hell. Fingers crossed that all gets fixed before the August 22 release.

It's no wonder that the first thing that comes up in Google predictive search for Jackaby is "Jackaby Movie." I'd much rather have a TV series. On BBC America. With Daisy Ridley as Abigail Rook. And Adam Driver as Jackaby. Actually: let's just take the cast of the recent Star Wars movies and make them do a Jackaby TV series. That would work, right? We could recruit the cast of Rogue One - Mads Mikkelsen would make an excellent Dire King...

RECOMMENDED FOR:

People who like paranormal mysteries; fans of Sherlock Holmes-esque detective stories; anyone looking for a cleverly written series with a kickass lady protagonist.

NOT RECOMMENDED FOR:

People who dislike fun.

RATING:

4.99 / 5 (I’d give it a full 5 but only if we’re promised a book 5).

RELEASE DATE:

August 22, 2017

[augchamp]

jackaby fan ending bc i am still tORN UP

[in which viv isn't quite satisfied with the ending of a certain novel. thanks to @rfjackaby . hope you enjoy!] That isn't quite the end of my story, though. Everything following the blinding light, up until Charlie was kissing me on the front porch of 926 Auger Lane later that day, was a blur of colors. Auras and people and emotions and footprints all blurred together into a fine mess of vision. I didn't marry him. Not right away, at least. Instead Charlie Barker moved into the bustling household, newly refurbished, and slightly less cluttered. The library wasn't mine, per say, but I spent a lot more time in there than my employer, who preferred to spend most days either outside or in bed, with rare in betweens. ​​​​​​Jenny tended to float in and out of her house, instead opting to accompany Jackaby on most of the walks, God knows where. She was a vibrant pink whenever she returned from those expeditions, I will say. I asked Charlie once, and he had also noticed that she seemed more... Alive. I gave Douglas better access to the pond. It's quite interesting to observe him in the new pond, still figuring things out. I realized why he had chosen to stay that way, and briefly wished I too was a waterfowl. Briefly. Charlie learned how to make the best tea in all the world, I dare say better than mine. He brought me cups of it throughout the day, and at some point throughout gallons of tea, my butterfly feelings for him faded, replaced with a sense of calm. A sense of home. There was one moment when he brought me a cup of tea late in the evening, and leaned over to kiss my head, when neither of us blushed, and neither of us shyly glanced away. I kissed him back. That's how I knew I loved him. As for I, I changed in some considerable ways after our events. Lucky for me, things were unsettlingly calm for the next two months, a time where I could grab for bearings of the new colors and senses and smells and feelings. I noticed I, however, became grayer. Duller. Sharper around the edges, and now I had perpetual bags under my eyes, even as I smiled. The vision was overwhelming, exhausting, and occasionally made me frustrated enough to break down into tears. I knew I'd have to live with it, though, and if I did get upset, it was away from Jackaby, and away from Jenny. I grew comfortable with Charlie's shoulder. I knew if my employer saw me at those breaking points, he would keep himself up at night, and he'd already done that enough for too many years. It was heartbreakingly beautiful the first time I saw him grin, ear to ear. I don't think I'd ever heard him laugh the way he did just a few weeks after he'd passed the vision on. He was happy. He had color in his cheeks, and a spring in his step, and when he shot me a grin, I knew he truly was enjoying life for what it was. And for me, it was all worth it. What wasn't worth it, were the amount of inside jokes among my three housemates, who dubbed the catchphrase "I didn't die for this". It became something they immediately bonded over, and laughed about, and something else to make me crack a smile and roll my eyes. As the years grew on, we all grew on each other. From the time that Jenny took Charlie to see the things she'd chosen for her wedding (which she insisted I try on her dress), to when Jackaby and I decided to bake a cake (you do not want to hear that story), we were no longer just a group of odd faces. We eventually became a mystery quartet. Oh, how we pissed off Marlowe. We became quite the team, however, where we each played to our strengths, and helped support the others' weaknesses. We had a few bumps in the road, times where we almost died, or got eaten, or got banished from another kingdom, but it was, for the most part, exceptional. The Mystery Quartet wasn't unbeatable by any means. We were just remarkable by all others. Months became years, and cases stacked up, and our friendships and romantics only grew for others in the group. There was one instance where I threw myself in front of Charlie and Jackaby, where I thought I was going to die. I thought I was going to flicker out. I could see in the others' faces that they did too. It was another year before Charlie proposed to me. He knew that I knew. Several weeks leading up to it, he'd discussed things with me, desperate to be sure I was involved in our conversations on the matter, but not quite saying when he would ask. He asked when I made us both a cup of tea after a long day. It was one of my favorite memories from there on out, one I could remember almost without the filters of color and smears of emotion. I set a glass down on the table in front of him, sat down beside him, and leaned on him, as he leaned on me, before he whispered: "Please tell me you'll marry me, Abigail." "Of course, Charlie. Of course." I had held onto the ring after he'd been revived, and he never had asked for it back until that moment, only to slide it onto my finger, lean on my shoulder, and drink his tea. We got married in the fall, a few friends attending, among those were Jackaby and Jenny, and Miss Lydia Lee. I wore Jenny's dress. She cried. It was another few years before children even entered our minds, another few years of adventure. Neither Charlie nor I were quite ready to settle down when I became pregnant, and though it turns out that you probably shouldn't be investigating a resurfacing of a certain redcap while six months pregnant, all ended safely. I didn't throw myself headfirst into danger. ​​​​​​ When I held our daughter for the first time, very few were present, among those were Charlie, Jackaby, and Jenny. I let Jackaby hold her. He cried. We raised strong children on 926 Auger Lane, four of them, to be exact. Freckled, curly haired children they were, but they were fiercely kind and stubborn, and I knew that we had gone right somewhere along the lines when our oldest son rescued a wood nymph from certain doom, and his the creature in his bedroom for months. The first expedition our children went on was catastrophic, and that was simply to a fortune teller, so when Jackaby and our oldest daughter returned from her first official dealings with the paranormal, covered in mud, you can bet I asked if anything had been set on fire. There hadn't been, but something that did set alight were my daughter's eyes, at the young age of thirteen. She'd seen things I hadn't until I was well past my thirties, and that scared me. It also instilled confidence, though. My story is never quite over, just as the Seer's isn't. I truly hope when I die, it's long after my children have learned the love and death of life, and that my daughter will be strong when colors blur before her own eyes.