The Other Boleyn Girl, by Philippa Gregory

This is the story of Henry VIII's second wife, Anne Boleyn, and her sister, Mary. Gregory takes known dates and events and weaves a rather gripping story around what might have happened to cause these to occur. So even though the ending wasn't in question, the journey was quite fun.

While amusing, the portrayal of Anne seemed inconsistent. At the outset she is clever and witty, plotting with her family to advance their station in life. When she catches Henry's eye she becomes conniving and ruthless and helps to oust a sitting queen, and when she becomes queen herself she turns into an outright shrew, shrill and unpleasant. The well-known adage "power corrupts" could be an explanation, but the intelligence shown early seems to fade with Anne becoming a caricature of the megalomaniac queen.

The writing style is straightforward, with a minimum of flowery romance-speak—something I appreciated. A bit long, but the action moves quickly enough it doesn't feel like a 650+ book. More entertainment than biography, this makes me want to read a more factual account of the time. Certainly kept my interest, and well worth the time it took to read.

First Sentence:

I could hear a roll of muffled drums.

Oathbringer, by Brandon Sanderson

This third book of the Stormlight Archive might be the best of the three so far. The main players have all been introduced, but their roles are continually changing keeping them interesting. The war hinted at in the previous novels is here in full force, and yet rather than devolving into battle after battle the plot is still filled with mystery. The twist in motives towards the end was masterfully done, arriving as a surprise yet clearly being obvious in hindsight.

Sanderson's writing continues to sparkle, sometime taking me out of the story entirely with wonder. When one character wakes up with a stiff shoulder he thinks to himself, "He had found middle age to be like an assassin—quiet, creeping along behind him." Having turned 50 myself this year, I found this to be a delightful and sobering description of life these days. And speaking of sobering, one character discovers to her delight her magic can immediately cure her drunkenness. Now that is a power I'd like to have!

Rhythm of War is the next book and is due out later this year. With ten books being planned for the series, my worry is that this will deteriorate into a George R.R. Martin-style of delay after delay, but am willing to give it a chance. At least for a while!

First Sentence:

Eshonai had always told her sister that she was certain something wonderful lay over the next hill.

The Ruin of Kings, by Jenn Lyons

This novel explores a rich fantasy world, complete with dragons, magic, quests, and prophecies. It is also confusing as hell, with characters that switch bodies, get resurrected or are seemingly immortal, a narrator that makes comments and footnotes as the story unfolds (and is himself a player), and a storyline that jumps back and forth in time with each chapter. I was hooked when I read the blurb on the back: "Then again maybe he isn't the hero after all. For Kihrin is not destined to save the empire. He's destined to destroy it." A lot of promise in that statement, and as the main character (Kihrin) isn't really likable as most stereotypical heroes there seems to be some weight to the premise. Sadly, the outcome is muddled, almost as if Lyons couldn't decide what to do. Hard to follow, but I think I'll give the next book in the series a chance.

First Sentence:

"Tell me a story."

Words of Radiance, by Brandon Sanderson

This is the second book of the Stormlight Archive, following The Way of Kings. It has some of the failings of a middle book, being somewhat slow moving and largely preparing for the following novels, but certainly stands on its own. Heck, Sanderson kills off a major character from the first book not even 10% of the way through! The most interesting thing here is that the protagonists and antagonists aren't entirely clear. The war between the humans and the Parshendi heats up, but it is revealed that the Parshmen were enslaved centuries ago so is this truly an unjust war? The Radiants and the Voidbringers are basically gods and seem to be the ultimate factions of the conflict, but it appears that tools from each are used by both humans and Parshendi. And division is rife within the human cabals as well, with some trying to gather power to preserve humanity from the assumed arrival in the flesh of the Voidbringers while others are trying to destroy that same power, fearing that it is what is drawing the Voidbringers in the first place. A book of contradiction and ambiguous motives, this is setting up to be a very interesting opus.

The length is a bit of problem here again, weighing in at over 1300 pages. Several sections felt like they dragged on when I was reading them, but on reflection I'm not sure which ones I'd edit. The curse of good writing, I suppose! Speaking of good writing, one line has stuck with me since finishing the book. A main character defines a good life as "A day of honest labor, followed by an evening at the tavern with friends." That strikes me as a wonderful description and resonates deeply with where I find myself these days.

Many of Sandersons novels take place in a shared universe, called the Cosmere. Occasionally characters cross from series to series, but usually play only a minor role. However, in the closing pages of Words of Radiance a sword oozing black smoke is found. "Hello, a cheerful voice said in his mind. Would you like to destroy some evil today?" I can only hope this is Nightblood from Warbreaker, another novel that takes place on another world in the Cosmere. Things are about to get entertaining here...

First Sentence:

Shallan pinched the thin charcoal pencil and drew a series of straight lines radiating from a sphere on the horizon.

The Way of Kings, by Brandon Sanderson

Sanderson is a genius at the art of world-building and creating unique yet consistent systems of magic, and The Way of Kings is absolute evidence of his mastery. Humans are the main characters here, but far from the most interesting. Spren are spirits of a sort, described as concepts given physical form by our collective subconscious. Most wildlife is crustacean based, such as the giant crab-like creatures that act as oxen. Plant life is also unique; the land is ravaged on a regular basis by powerful and deadly storms, so the flora has evolved to pull into the ground or stones during a gale to protect themselves. Finally, the Parshendi are the antagonists (of a sort) being at war with the humans, and they are a bit of a mix of humanoid and crustacean. Magic is called surgebinding and is a collection of several different abilities all powered by the storms. For example, one form can affect gravity and adhesion, another can transmute objects from one thing to another. There are magic items in this world as well, including indestructible swords that can be ordered to appear and disappear by their wielder and armor that regenerates when damaged. All fascinating, and all just a backdrop to a gripping adventure.

My biggest quibble with this book is its length—over 1200 pages. While I dearly loved the peek into the world in which it is set, several passages and quests could have been shortened or left out entirely without harming the overall narrative. That said, once the story gets rolling it is quite good and many characters are both complicated and quite witty. One line uttered by an academic researcher especially rang true: "Proof that one can be both intelligent and accept the intelligence of those who disagree with you? Why, I should think it would undermine the scholarly world in its entirety." While referring to academia in the novel, one could easily (and sadly) apply it to the divisive political system in our world today.

This is the first in a series of twelve novels, only three of which have been released to date. Luckily there is an actual conclusion here; plenty of loose ends and setups remain for future episodes, but there is an actual denouement and resolution, not just an abrupt pause in the action waiting for the next book like some authors seem to enjoy. If the other eleven books are of a similar length (and in general, fantasy epics like this tend to get longer, not shorter) we are looking at some 15,000 pages of material to read. While daunting, I find myself eager for the next entry, Words of Radiance.

First Sentence:

Szeth-son-son-Vallano, Truthless of Shinovar, wore white on the day he was to kill a king.

Endgames, by L.E. Modesitt, Jr.

Unlike most of the Imager Portfolio, the plot here is more political than magical. The times, they are a changin', and the land of Solidar is experiencing an industrial revolution which in turn is causing the rank and file workers and crafters to lose their jobs to cheap imports and increasingly mass-manufactured goods. The ruling class is struggling to maintain their civic dominance, and the new middle class of factory owners and bankers are just tasting power for the first time and reluctant to give in to the rioting lower class people. The ruler over all this recognizes that change needs to happen and is slowly trying to modify the government to include representation from everyone, causing broad strife and upheaval (and a few assassination attempts).

The plot is rather pedestrian for Modesitt, with heavy introspection and long descriptions of practicing a musical instrument rather than battles, action, and intrigue. That said, the debate on a minimum wage was pretty interesting as was the one on church versus state. The arguments on either side largely came from two sources: negotiations in council meetings and the press. The players in council had fairly predictable points of view with the king forcing a compromise, but more fascinating was the role the press had in reporting the results of the meetings (not having access to the discussions, just the outcomes). There are two newspapers, one reasonably fair and unemotional, and the other radical and biased (think AP vs. Fox News). This dichotomy demonstrated quite well how people can and will spin situations according to their own worldview, facts be damned. Modesitt's exploration of the proper limits of power and the role of economics in social change was not only compelling, but very appropriate with our real-world political situation.

While well-written and entertaining, this novel is a bit disappointing simply because the actual magic takes a back seat to politics. It felt a little more like a separate, parallel story set in the same universe as the other books than the conclusion to the entire series. If you are looking for a fantasy novel with a heavy dose of world-building and exposition, this is a great choice. If you are looking for an exciting adventure with battling magicians and powerful villains, maybe look elsewhere.

First Sentence:

On Lundi morning, the sixteenth of Juyn, Charyn was up earlier than usual, most likely because the day promised to be particularly hot, a reminder that the first days of spring, heralded by the Spring-Turn Ball, were some three months gone, and there wasn't that much of summer left.

Warbreaker, by Brandon Sanderson

In my opinion, Brandon Sanderson is one of the best fantasy world-builders out there today. The magic system here is unique (as in seeming all Sanderson's oeuvre): everyone has a "BioChromatic Breath," a single bit of magic capability, and that Breath can be given to others. If one accumulates enough Breath various powers are granted, from perfect pitch to agelessness to animating normally inanimate objects (such as rope and cloth). Magic also requires color; the more difficult and powerful the spell the more color is drained from nearby objects—prisoners with enough Breath are kept in dull grey cells preventing any sorcery.

Coupled with this fascinating wizarding system is a story of pending war between neighboring lands and intrigue galore. Sanderson does an excellent job of hiding the twists in plain sight and disguising who the heroes and villains actually are. Throw in assassins, gods that live amongst the people, a talking sword, and a healthy dose of humor and you have Warbreaker, the nearly perfect fantasy novel.

First Sentence:

There were great advantages to being unimportant.

Angry Optimist, by Lisa Rogak

Jon Stewart and The Daily Show was must-see television for me for years. His ability to skewer the news (and the newsmakers) was both hilarious and educating, and his eye for talent was amazing: Steve Carell, Stephen Colbert, John Oliver, Samantha Bee, Ed Helms, Rob Corddry, and Josh Gad (among many others) all made names for themselves on the show. This biography covers Stewart from birth to around 2015 when he left The Daily Show. Largely a recitation of the main points of his life (birth, high school, college, stand-up, TV, marriage) there actually is an interesting tidbit here and there, such as officially changing his name to Stewart (after his middle name of Stuart) not to appear "less Jewish" but to distance himself from his father. Not a lot of insight into Stewart or what makes him tick, but as he is a largely private man a lot of what is in here was new to me. Clearly an unofficial biography.

First Sentence:

When Jonathan Stuart Leibowitz was born on November 28, 1962, in New York City to Donald and Marian Leibowitz toward the end of the huge postwar baby boom, he began a typical middle-class American childhood that was unremarkable for the time, and apparently very much strived for by the majority of people in the United States.

The Last Sheriff in Texas, by James P. McCollom

This book chronicles the changes the state of Texas underwent after WWII, moving from mostly rural to mostly urban, and seeing the cowboy fade from a real profession to a role in the movies. Sheriff Vail Ennis of Bee County was a violent, uncompromising man with a flair for violence—he shot and killed eight men while in office between 1944 and 1952. Johnny Barnhart was raised in Bee County, but while attending the University of Texas uncovered a passion for civil rights that set him apart from his conservative neighbors. These two icons clashed during the election of 1952, forcing citizens to choose between frontier justice and law and order, changing Texas politics forever.

The story is told primarily via interviews and reminiscences with a healthy amount of historical context thrown in for good measure. I found it to be compelling (if very repetitive), although I can easily see how someone that isn't familiar with life on the Texas Costal Plain might find it slow and meandering. The book is part true crime, part political history, part biography, and part memoir resulting in a style that is a bit offbeat. On one page there will be a excerpt from a newspaper article, and on the next conversational dialogue from people long since dead. I found this see-sawing between fact and fabrication hard to get used to at first, but eventually settled down and enjoyed the story.

First Sentence:

The man who shot the sheriff was Roy Hines, thirty-four, ex-con, a grifter on his way from Oklahoma to Mexico.

The Handmaid's Tale, by Margaret Atwood

This novel tells the story of a near-future revolution that replaces the United States with the Republic of Gilead, an oppressive fundamentalist Christian theocracy. We are vividly shown the dark side of religion, what happens when those beliefs are taken to a tyrannical extreme: women are forbidden to own property, vote, read, or write; homosexuality and heretical ideas are punished by death. Basically, what Vice President Mike Pence would call an ideal world.

I found the book difficult to read not because of the disturbing content, but due to the stilted language: "I walk around to the back door, open it, go in, set my basket down on the kitchen table." The choppy writing gave me fits for some reason; I had to re-read sections often because I wasn't parsing the prose properly. Given the environment I was expecting to discover that the author was secretly writing down her thoughts to explain the odd syntax, but in the epilogue we learn the author recorded everything on tapes—meaning the writing should have been more fluid, not less.

I would have liked to see more about the mechanics of the revolution (an ongoing war is mentioned multiple times, and at one point the Republic of Texas is shown to be an independent country again) but given the author is a woman and therefore forbidden from knowledge and news the lack of detail makes sense. Regardless, this is a thought provoking read and should be required reading for anyone interested in a "fair and balanced" world.

First Sentence:

We slept in what had once been the gymnasium.

The People's Republic of Amnesia, by Louisa Lim

My first trip to Beijing was in the summer of 1988. China immediately captured my attention; I encountered a world unlike anything I'd seen, beautiful and oppressive at the same time. Almost exactly one year later, the Tiananmen Square Massacre took place and captured the attention of the world. Now, nearly thirty years later, Louisa Lim takes a look at the fading legacy of the rebellion.

For me, this was an unforgettable moment in time, in league with the Space Shuttle Challenger explosion or 9/11. The image of an ordinary man standing in front of a column of tanks is as powerful a picture as I've ever seen, and recognized virtually everywhere as the iconic moment of the event. In China, however, only 15% of university students in Beijing recognized it, due to the government systematically blocking and censoring any information related to the event. This sad fact is from where Lim draws her title: The People's Republic of Amnesia.

The author does a great job of interviewing many people about the incident, from mothers of survivors to soldiers that were there, from students at the time to students of today. These varied viewpoints give an in-depth look at both the event then and how it is remembered now—or not remembered as the case may be. In particular, the chapter on Chengdu and the oppressive events that took place there in the same timeframe was eye-opening. It would have been a truly captivating read if I could have shook the feeling that Lim continually patted herself on the back, congratulating herself on writing such a significant book. She may be correct in its momentousness, but the self-aggrandizing tone was irritating to no end. This is an important book, and gives a view into not only Tiananmen, but into the current Chinese government as well. The tone is annoying, but well worth forcing yourself to finish.

First Sentence:

Plumes of smoke from fires frame the Gate of Heavenly Peace, as soldiers pile the students' possessions to burn them.

Elantris, by Brandon Sanderson

I like Sanderson so much I might have to finally get around to reading the end of the Wheel of Time series. When Robert Jordan died Sanderson was hand-picked by Jordan's family to write the last book (which turned into the last three books) of the epic, but I never did get around to reading them. Sanderson is an engaging author, showing such a talent for dialog, plot, and characterization that even though I haven't had good luck with posthumous stories I think I'll give The Gathering Storm a chance. None of which has anything to do with Elantris other than my fanboy ravings, of course.

Elantris follows three main characters; Raoden, a prince afflicted with a magical disease, Sarene, a political whirlwind determined to save a country, and Hrathen, a priest determined to convert the world to his religion. All three are fully fleshed out characters, but Hrathen was my favorite despite being the villain of the piece. I really enjoyed Sanderson's approach to religion here, depicting Hrathen as being a zealot with a lack of faith. Hrathen is motivated by the mental challenge of converting an unwilling populate to his religion, but without the mindless zeal and fervor of his peers. Priests and monks are normally depicted as either heroic and perfect or wild-eyed and cruel in fantasies (true here as well other than Hrathen); seeing a thoughtful friar facing a crisis of faith made for a refreshing change.

As with his other books, the system of magic Sanderson creates in Elantris is unique. AorDor is a power that allows its practitioners to sketch symbols in the air that can heal, transport, and create illusions among other things. The twist here is that the magic is broken somehow, and Raoden's quest to figure out why drives a third of the novel. Towards the end Raoden gains a deep understanding and starts to realize there may be many other forms of magic that can channel the underlying power of AorDor, which alludes to the overarching universe Sanderson is creating that houses all of his books called the Cosmere. I hope this growing awareness of an inhabitant of this ecosystem points at stronger contacts between worlds in the future and more hints towards the mysterious backstory linking it all together.

Fantastic effort, and I look forward the inevitable sequels.

First Sentence:

Prince Raoden of Arelon awoke early that morning, completely unaware that he had been damned for all eternity.

The Psychopath Test, by Jon Ronson

I don't have much use for psychology or psychiatry. These are the branches of science used by those that seemingly justify such nonsense as curing homosexuality. Psychology experiments often seem to be ethically murky and confirm their initial hypotheses at an unbelievably high rate. On the other hand, I'm not someone that believes mental illness isn't a real disease, either. Like most things, there are good and bad aspects to psychology and clearly it has helped thousands of people live happier lives. So, when my book club chose The Psychopath Test as the monthly selection I was intrigued and looking forward to a closer examination of the industry.

I found this look into psychology and psychopaths in particular fascinating. Ronson examines all sides of the situation, talking with editors of the bible of mental disorders (the DSM-IV-TR), extreme 9/11 Truther and self-proclaimed messiah David Shayler, the author of the most common tool for diagnosing psychopathy (the PCL-R), and a powerful group Scientologists that are trying to stamp out psychology entirely (the CCHR). Written in first person Ronson seems greatly influenced by whichever group he speaks with last, see-sawing between radically different points of view. He doesn't really make any conclusions, but simply walks through the various beliefs and allows the reader to decide on his own. Most compelling to me was the debate about where the line between mentally ill and simply eccentric is drawn; what I learned here makes me a bit scared as to how fast we jump to diagnosing illness and prescribing drugs for behaviors such as hyperactivity and short tempers—especially in children.

The most surprising aspect of the book is the revelation that not all psychopaths are criminal; in fact, they are everywhere and often lead normal lives. A desire to win and a love of power are common sociopathic traits, as is a lack of normal human feelings. "They're the boss or coworker who likes to make other people up just for the pleasure of seeing them jump. They're the spouse who marries to look socially normal but inside the marriage shows no love after the initial charm wears off." Even more disturbing than the psychopath next door is the realization that these behaviors result in a preponderance of such people in leadership positions. "The higher you go up the [corporate or political] ladder, the greater the number of sociopaths you'll find there." From now on I'll be equating politicians with psychopaths, which frankly explains a lot about our government.

First Sentence:

This is a story about madness.

Locked On, by Tom Clancy with Mark Greaney

I loved some of the early Jack Ryan books, but gave up after Red Rabbit and The Teeth Of The Tiger because I thought they were really weak. I spied Locked On on the bargain table and decided to spend a few bucks and see if anything had improved. Surprisingly, there had only been one book between The Teeth Of The Tiger and this one in the last ten years so plot-wise I hadn't missed much.

The story here mainly follows Jack Ryan Jr. and John Clark; the former chasing a terrorist plot through Pakistan and Russia and the latter on the run due to a political witch hunt. Clancy hasn't softened his views towards politics any here; the Democrats are depicted as cartoonish and practically being pro-terrorist. The news outlets are savaged as well ("Liberal bias in the media was a fact of nature.") and shown to eagerly suppress information that shows Democrats in a bad light. While I agree with much of the sentiment here, Clancy takes it to an extreme. The terrorist plot is on nearly a James Bond scale; a Pakistani General steals two nukes from his own country and intends to force a war with India using a Muslim uprising in Russia as a distraction. I don't think this has the depth of The Hunt for Red October or even Debt of Honor, but it was nice to revisit the Jack Ryan Universe once again.

First Sentence:

The Russians call their Kamov-50 helicopter gunship Chernaya Akula—Black Shark.

The Borgias and Their Enemies, by Christopher Hibbert

The Borgia family name today is largely synonymous with immorality and nepotism. The rise to power of Rodrigo Borgia culminating in his being elected Pope in 1492 is when this definition was earned and the topic of this book. Rodrigo was described as having "the most obscene manners, hypocrisy, immodesty, mendacity, infidelity, profanity, insatiable greed, unrestrained ambition, a predilection for viciousness that was worse than barbaric, and a fervent hunger to exalt his many children, among whom there were several no less repellent than the father." And this is all after he became Pope Alexander VI. All his children were obviously illegitimate (as apparently marriage is the one rule the Church can't ignore), but two in particular became powerful in their own right: his son Cesare was a general and a ruler and the subject of Machiavelli's The Prince, and his daughter Lucrezia became the Duchess of Ferrara.

I'm not a fan of organized religion, and Catholicism in particular I find morally bankrupt, but I was surprised to learn in the 15^th century the Church was even more venal than today. Men weren't made cardinals because of their devotion to God or their piety, but how much money they could pay. One of Lucrezia's sons was named the arch-bishop of Milan when he was nine-years-old. Celebrations at the Vatican were excessive, often including courtesans and even devolving into orgies. Interestingly, in some ways this immoral Church was more progressive than the holier-than-thou organization of today. When traveling, Alexander VI would put his daughter Lucrezia in charge of the Vatican, to the point where she actually moved into the papal apartments. I can't imagine the modern Church—against both contraception and abortion and not allowing women to be ordained—permitting a female to effectively control the Catholic hierarchy.

The writing is a bit dry making it difficult to stay engaged at times, but the topic is entertaining enough to keep going. Not the best book I've ever read, but it covers an interesting period in history.

First Sentence:

"You must have heard of this city from others," wrote a visitor to Rome in the middle of the fifteenth century.

The Presidents Club, by Nancy Gibbs and Michael Duffy

The President's Club must be the most elite organization on the planet: to be a member you must have served as the President of the United States. Established at Eisenhower's inauguration by Harry Truman and Herbert Hoover its membership ebbs and flows over time; when Clinton took office the first Bush, Reagan, Carter, Ford, and Nixon were all in the club, but towards the end of Nixon's presidency the club was on hiatus when LBJ died. Gibbs and Duffy do an amazing job of examining the importance the President's Club plays in being everything from a simple sounding board to political ambassadors.

One of the most fascinating aspects about the club is that once people leave office, in a lot of ways politics seem to lessen in importance. Hoover and Truman became close friends and allies despite being on opposite sides of the political aisle, as did both Bushes with Clinton. Conversely but proving the same point, although Obama is not yet a member he and Clinton have a chilly relationship if not an outright rivalry. Regardless, though, only a handful of people truly understand the pressure of being the Leader of the Free World and being able to lean on that understanding often trumps political ideology. "[P]residents do not just compare themselves to one another; they weigh their leadership against what might have been. A president knows, each day, that if he makes the wrong call on fiscal policy a million more people could lose their jobs, or the wrong judgement about an enemy means thousands lose their lives." I can't imagine a job where even my wife would have difficulty appreciating what I do each day at work.

The authors do a wonderful job humanizing the people in the office. "Nixon preferred the nearby Lincoln Sitting Room as a smoker; he'd go in, build a fire in the fireplace, and then crank up the air conditioner. Reagan installed a weight room in the White House living quarters and worked out every day. Nixon had the trails at Camp David paved over so that his golf carts could scoot along faster; Reagan had them torn up and taken out so he could use them as horseback-riding trails." It is easy for me to see the presidency as a cipher, as a robotic entity far removed from everyday life. Anecdotes such as the passage above or about George W. Bush hitting golf balls at cars as a kid helps remind me that there are actual people sitting in the Oval Office, not just the caricatures we read about in history books and newspapers.

We all know how Nixon's administration ended in disgrace. Interestingly, he wasn't the first President to record what happened in the Oval Office—Kennedy and Johnson did the same. But their tape systems were manually controlled rather than voice activated, leading to the inability to select what was saved and the collapse of a presidency. The existence of the President's Club, though, eventually allowed Nixon back in the game. Reagan quietly sent Nixon to Moscow on a "private, fact finding" mission and to meet with Gorbachev. The positive results from this meeting allowed Nixon to begin taking steps towards a public rehabilitation. Eventually he largely overcame the specter of Watergate and died a respected elder statesman. All because of the Club.

Former presidents want to remain relevant and assist their predecessors while simultaneously competing for time and favorable mention in the history books. Truman once said, "time must pass before anyone, even an ex-president, can evaluate the performance of a man in the White House." This willingness to let go of judgement is one of the reasons the organization works, and frankly is a good lesson for all of us. Bush 43 is widely disliked and without even completing his term Obama seems to be in the same boat. Of course, because these people served so recently it is difficult to separate the political rhetoric from factual evaluation. So while history's jury may still be out on Carter as a president, it is clear that at the least he was a very difficult ex-president; without approval from Clinton he once cut a deal with North Korea about their nuclear program and then announced it on CNN without clearing it with the Oval Office or the State Department. Other club members at times behaved in similar manners, but Carter went rogue for multiple presidents putting him in a class by himself.

I am politically independent; I believe both the Republican and Democratic parties are morally bankrupt. This look inside the world's most exclusive fraternity is largely ideologically neutral which tipped my opinion from excellent to superb; reading about anecdotes like Reagan teaching Clinton how to salute is much more entertaining without having to deal with political spin. If you are any kind of student of history, this book should be on your nightstand.

First Sentence:

The modern Presidents Club was founded by two men who by all rights should have loathed each other.

The Camel Club, by David Baldacci

The plot on the surface isn't deep: four political crackpots accidentally witness a murder by rogue government operatives and spend the next 600 pages being chased by a powerful conspiracy with far-reaching goals. Of course, all four witnesses have unique skills and make a few well-placed friends along the way to a climactic showdown inside a secret CIA training facility. After a few predictably ridiculous coincidences, other than the one tragic death of a minor character the heroes all end up "happily ever after." Not the most original story, but it was entertaining and a guilty pleasure.

The undercurrent of politics in The Camel Club shows that the American government has morphed into Big Brother, with all the main intelligence gathering agencies combined under a single command. Considering the recent scandals with government spying this looks at first blush as if Baldacci is prescient (this was written in 2005), but we quickly see that the author is simply writing from a liberal point-of-view when radical Islamists kidnap the President using tranquilizer darts rather than live ammunition against the Secret Service—remember that America is evil here and not the misunderstood terrorists! Interestingly, at the close of the book the governmental espionage organizational apparatus remains in place and all the crimes of the novel are blamed solely on the responsible individuals; the lesson seems to be America isn't evil after all but needs to keep a closer eye on its people: Big Brother is justified!

First Sentence:

The Chevy Suburban sped down the road, enveloped by the hushed darkness of the Virginia countryside.

The Firefly, by P. T. Deutermann

This novel is truly awful. The Firefly is a cookie-cutter thriller that finds a retired Secret Service agent trying to prevent a tragedy that no one else believes is real. Written in 2003 the author clearly had the 9/11 attacks firmly in mind, as our government goes to unbelievable lengths to combat the "cancer of international Muslim terrorism."

Unbelievable is an excellent word to describe this tripe as the plot barely holds together as the one-dimensional characters pinball from chapter to chapter. The main villain has plastic surgery that not only changes his looks, but gives him inflatable breasts and an internal pouch for his genitals so he can transform into a woman and back again. He tries to kill everyone that worked on him, but one nurse escapes; she goes to great lengths to explain to the cops and agents investigating that she couldn't possibly identify anyone as the clinic had strict protocols for insuring privacy but the terrorist spends over half the book trying to kill her anyway. Coincidences abound; what luck that the Washington D.C. car lot where the terrorist is buying a vehicle happened to be right across the street from the auto mechanic at which the nurse is having her car serviced—and of course they were there at the same time! His luck also held when neither neighbors nor federal agents noticed he sawed a three-foot-square hole in the roof of a duplex in a dense neighborhood a mile from Capitol Hill the day before a presidential inauguration. The inauguration ceremony is at the heart of the plot, but the security measures put in place by the Secret Service are ludicrous even for a fiction book: the stock markets were closed, all government workers were furloughed for the day, the airports and train stations were shuttered, public cell phone networks disabled, cable and satellite television was shut down, and over 300 "people of interest" were sent to Guantanamo Bay for the duration. While I can certainly see the presidential detail liking these measures, believing they could actually happen is laughable. The resolution of the novel is as ridiculous as the rest, with the United States creating a massive deception (that was kept completely secret from the world despite massive troop movements and expansive special effect filming) that would justify every stereotype of American aggression during the height of the Bush era.

The Firefly is somewhere between silly and preposterous, one of the worst books I've read in a long time.

First Sentence:

The man who calls himself Jäger Heismann awakes in the dimly lighted recovery room of the private cosmetic surgery clinic in northwest Washington, D.C.

11.22.63, by Stephen King

It has been a long while since I've read a Stephen King novel; I loved his early works, but after a string of disappointments with It, Needful Things, and The Dark Half I'd largely stopped reading him. I came across this just before one of my trips to the UK, and the tag on the cover caught my imagination: "The day that changed the world—11.22.63—what if you could change it back?" With the date of JFK's assassination as the title there isn't much surprise as to what the topic of the book is, and this event is one of the hotspots of alternate history so many authors have taken a run at this before. King takes a very fresh look at the time though, both in what the effects of changing the past would be and in how time travel itself might work. I quite liked the idea that the timeline would push back, resisting changes to the "natural" timeline. As readers we know how the assassination came about, so having history itself as the antagonist made for a more suspenseful read than a traditional villain.

King has his normal nods to his other books here, most visibly the town of Derry (where It took place) paying a large role and a cameo by a certain white-over-red Plymouth Fury. While he clearly deeply researched Kennedy and Dallas in the early 1960's, one notable error was the appearance of bumper stickers reading "Don't Mess With Texas" in that era; as far as I know that phrase was made famous in the mid 1980's. Overall, though, this is a very entertaining read and a welcome return to greatness for King.

First Sentence:

I have never been what you'd call a crying man.

Interstate 69, by Matt Dellinger

Interstate 69 is supposed to run from the Michigan/Canadian border to the Texas/Mexican border. "It could be the last great interstate built in America. Or it might never be finished at all." I-69 through Texas is supposed to run where US-59 does today, including through my wife's hometown of El Campo. When we started dating in 1991 (man, we are old!) I noticed several signs reading "Future Interstate Corridor" along the highway; as this was well before the days of Wikipedia I couldn't find much information on the new road. So, when I came across Dellinger's book, I snapped it up!

Unlike the majority of the Interstate system, I-69 was to be created with long segments of brand-new roads rather than upgrading existing ones. For the land-owners and towns affected, this meant serious opportunity and/or serious jeopardy depending on how much money stood to be gained or how much of the family farm would be lost to eminent domain. The detractors largely fall into the NIMBY camp: "We like things the way they are, they say, so take your progress someplace else." Dellinger goes out of his way to be fair to both sides of the argument, but at the end of the day I sided strongly with the people that want the new Interstate. The arguments for the roads admittedly often revolved around the money to be made rather than service to the public, but the arguments against were all emotion and whining—very little rational thought there.

The status of the road today is inconsistent. Large stretches of it are open and active today, but it is far from contiguous. Michigan, Indiana, Kentucky, Tennessee, Mississippi, and Texas all have highways labeled I-69, but outside of the roughly 350 miles between Indianapolis and Port Huron there isn't a single length of road over 100 miles long out of the 1700 miles of the intended route. The long parts that aren't built are largely due to the opposition that arose through the various states.

The conclusion was interesting, as Dellinger doesn't really take sides, but instead ends on questions and possibilities. "What if I-69 is never built? What if it remains an awkward, half-finished monument to the people who've tried to build it and the people who've tried to stop it? Some will say the lack of wherewithal and resolve is a sign of a once-great nation faltering. And others will say it's progress, a welcome signal that our highway binge is done and we're ready to rebuild the rails and sidewalks we've ignored for too long." This open-minded approach will probably annoy hard-core believers on both sides of the transportation debate, but I thought not judging in favor of either was fitting for a road that is only partially constructed.

First Sentence:

You have to hand it to Haynesville: The town keeps its chin up.