jodiwilldare's reviews
1523 reviews

Here’s my advice to you, if you ever find yourself in the vicinity of Ball Peen Hammer, slowly back away and then when you are a safe distance run for your life. Don’t let this confusing, dreary, dreck suck you into it’s whirling vortex of confusion like I was. Let my pointless waste of time not be in vain. Please.

Ball Peen Hammer takes place in a post-apocalyptic city where people are dying because of a strange plague. We’re not quite sure how they got the plague, just that it’s killing people. We also know that there is food and an antidote beyond the viaduct of this mysterious, chaotic city. Why the main characters aren’t high-tailing it to the viaduct is never addressed. Neither is why there is so much chaos, or how long they’ve been living in this condition, or why we’re spending our time reading a story where the creators haven’t bothered to answer any of the questions they asked.

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I remember breathlessly telling my twelve-year-old niece, Jaycie, that if Amy Bloom’s name were on the cover of a phone book I’d read it and enjoy every line. I’m a bit of a Bloom fan, and still remember buying her first novel Love Invents Us in hardcover at the B. Dalton in the Eden Prairie Mall just because I liked the title.

After reading Where the God of Love Hangs Out her newest short story collection that affirmation is truer than ever.

What I like so much about Bloom’s writing is that she populates her stories with intelligent, capable people. I like that her characters often make what could be considered the wrong decision knowing full-well that it isn’t the smartest thing to do. But they are some how compelled to try something new, to go beyond the boundaries of their bourgeois, successful lives. I like these kinds of characters because I think they have the most at stake, they risk everything and reading how that turns out is fulfilling.
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For nearly twenty-five years, the story of Blackbriar haunted me. When I was in sixth grade, Mrs. Mullins read it out loud to our reading class. Even in the fully-lit classroom surrounded by kids the story was scary as hell.

After sixth grade I didn’t give the book much thought. But whenever anyone asked me about scary books this is the one I’d conjure up. The problem was for years and years I had forgotten the title of the book and wasn’t sure if I ever knew the name of the author.

All I could remember was the creepy image of names carved on the back of a door. Each name had a date next to it, effectively making the entire house a giant tombstone. I remember that it had something to do with the Black Plague. But that’s it.

Occasionally, I’d ask someone if they’d ever read the black plague with the names on the door book when they were a kid. “You know the one with the tunnel and names, the NAMES. The names on the door!” Because repetition is the surest way to jog someone’s memory, right?

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When we last left The Umbrella Academy the gang were saving the world from their sister, The White Violin, run amok. Now the Emo Family Robinson is back in The Umbrella Academy: Dallas trying to recover from the fallout of their shattered family and saving the world, again. Damn world, why can’t it just stay saved? I hope the world continues to be in constant peril because I want more and more and more of the Emo Family Robinson.

This volume finds the family in shambles (again) Kraken’s trying to fight crime; Spaceboy’s drowning his sorrows in milk, cookies, and bad TV; Rumor’s pissed off that Vanya took her voice even though Vanya’s gone a little crazy; Seance is getting manicures; and The boy’s betting on the dogs and massacring an army of time-traveling assassins.

How can you not love this family?

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Hours after finishing “Gravity” one of the stories in John Jodzio’s debut story collection If You Lived Here You’d Be Home Already, I met with my writing group. As we talked about what we were reading at home, I started in with a rushed and breathless description of the story.

“It’s about this guy who is obsessed with throwing pennies out his office window. He’s on like the eighteenth floor. And as you keep reading you find out that his wife likes to have dangerous sex, and okay, I’m just going to ruin it for you right now and tell you the whole thing. . . ”

Then I told them the entire story, and we all exhaled at once.

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When we last left off, Ariel Schrag had just finished tenth grade. As good as her freshmen and sophomore years were to read, junior year is even better.

The first thing I noticed about Potential the second book in Schrag’s high school chronicles, is that her drawing skills vastly improved from sophomore to junior year. Gone is the amateurish, cartoons and in their place are drawings with real depth and emotion. The art here is really clever, not only does she depict various moods altered by chemicals (one kind of border represents being drunk, another represents being high) but she really packs a lot of emotion in her character’s faces. My favorite is the hot, young Alexis, one of Schrag’s girlfriends who is pretty but dumb. The girl is drawn with empty eyes. It’s a nice touch, and there are a lot of touches throughout. Another bit of art awesome is the dream sequences which become increasingly realistic compared to the comic aspect of daily life.

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My friend Steve asked me a few weeks ago if I ever read something just because the writing’s good. I can’t remember what exactly we were arguing about (and we were arguing because that’s all we ever do), but I remember my answer was an exasperated, “Duh, yes I do.” Of course I couldn’t think of a single example of anything I had read just because the writing was good.

Well, Steve, here’s your answer: The Ask by Sam Lipsyte. So there! If it weren’t for the strength of Lipsyte’s writing I’d have invoked the 100-page rule and closed the cover on this one for good.

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