Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, by Jules Verne

The plot is split into two halves: first is the hunt for a mysterious and deadly sea creature, and then an adventure on Captain Nemo’s famous submarine, the Nautilus. The early part is exciting, even though because of the book’s fame the reader already knows the sea monster is really the Nautilus. Once the narrator is on board the sub, the excitement fades quickly. The ship travels around the world, visiting sunken ships, underwater forests, and battling giant squids; this half of the book felt more like a collection of short stories than a cohesive narrative. Some of these vignettes dragged on too long, and the catalogs of sea creatures were interminable. The conclusion was a deus ex machina that I found quite unsatisfying; disappointing for such a promising start.

One thing I found fascinating was that there was no villain in the book, no mission to accomplish, no quest to complete. Everyone has a sense of honor that governs their actions, and there are no one-dimensional characters. Nemo kidnaps the narrator and his party, but did so to save their lives. Ned wants to escape, but doesn’t hesitate to join the crew to fight off attackers and returning the weapon he used when successful. This depth makes the story more interesting, even in the slow parts.

First Sentence:

The year 1866 was signalized by a remarkable incident, a mysterious and inexplicable phenomenon, which doubtless no one has yet forgotten.

Myths for the Modern Age, edited by Win Scott Eckert

Philip José Farmer believes that the meteor which landed near a small village in England in 1795 irradiated roughly eighteen people and changed their genetic makeup. These mutated genes were passed on to their descendants, many of whom became extraordinary individuals. These amazing people have been the real-world models for some of the most popular fictional characters through the years, such as Sherlock Holmes, the Scarlet Pimpernel, Allan Quatermain, and James Bond. Myths for the Modern Age is a collection of faux-scholarly essays exploring this concept.

As with many anthologies, the various authors here are hit and miss with their efforts. The Arms of Tarzan by Farmer goes into excruciating detail about the coat of arms of Lord Greystoke, better known as Tarzan; this is easily the least interesting essay in the collection. Brad Mengel’s Watching the Detectives was my favorite, where we learn that Simon Templar, Lara Croft, Ellery Queen, Barnaby Jones, Archie Goodwin, and Robert Goren are all descendants of Sherlock Holmes. He also postulates that Holmes nemesis Moriarty had well-known offspring, such as “Howling Mad” Murdock, better known as the helicopter pilot for the commando unit known as the A-Team. “Intriguingly, the leader of the A-Team, John ‘Hannibal’ Smith, is the great-nephew of Sherlock Holmes making this perhaps the first time that a member of the Holmes family and a member of the Moriarty family worked together.” Connections like this make this concept a lot of fun!

At nearly 400 pages, this can be a long read—especially for the less interesting chapters. There is an excellent set of endnotes throughout the essays that give sources and hints as to who some of the more obscure characters are (Lew Archer, anyone?) but somewhere in the 200’s the numbers get out of sync, with the text and the reference mismatched; this led to quite a bit of confusion for me until I realized what had happened. All in all, I was disappointed by this book. The idea of a shared genealogy crossing fictional boundaries I love, but feel it fell short of its potential here. If you are a die-hard lover of conspiracy and literary humor then pick this up, but otherwise just go spend some time on Thom Holbrook’s crossover site.

First Sentence (from the introduction):

The Wold Newton Family is a group of heroic and villainous literary figures that science fiction author Philip José Farmer postulated belonged to the same genetic family.

Mage-Guard of Hamor, by L.E. Modesitt, Jr.

This book picks up immediately after Natural Ordermage, with our hero returning home to Recluce. Rahl is one of the whinier heroes Modesitt has given us, but we see him mature into a leader under the hard gaze of his mentor. I thought the twists were telegraphed and way too obvious, but the magic-and-military campaign kept me interested. The plot is as formulaic as all the other adventures in this universe, but I still enjoyed it. This is an entertaining read, perfect for a rainy afternoon or a crowded airplane.

First Sentence:

Rahl stood on the port wing of the fast frigate’s bridge, looking out at the seemingly endless gray-blue waters of the Eastern Ocean.

Implementing Lean Software Development, by Mary and Tom Poppendieck

This book examines the lean manufacturing approach pioneered by Toyota and how it can apply to software development. Lean boils down to seven principles: eliminate waste, build quality in, create knowledge, defer commitment, deliver fast, respect people, and optimize the whole. Many of these are familiar to agile proponents, but not all. Of particular interest to me was the last principle, optimize the whole. Developers have a strong tendency to suboptimize a problem, to “perfect” a small block of code without considering the bigger picture. Optimizing the whole means that instead of looking at an individual step you look at the entire value stream. When combined with a stop-the-line mentality that forces teams to solve problems rather than work around them, there is a lot of potential for not only higher throughput but for higher quality.

Another interesting idea presented here was set-based design: multiple teams solving the same problems at the same time in different ways. The thought here is you can have several groups all tackle the same issue, each taking a different approach or accepting a different amount of risk. They all work simultaneously, and at the end the best one of the solutions can be taken forward. I’ve never worked at a company that was willing to put this many resources towards a single problem but it is an intriguing concept.

Overall, a good book that any agile enthusiast should read. The writing isn’t as compelling as Tabeka or as interesting as Angus, but still well worth your time. Another winner from the Addison-Wesley Signature Series of books.

First Sentence:

Paris, France, July 1785.

Sister Time, by John Ringo and Julie Cochrane

I picked this book up out of the bargain bin not knowing anything about it. Turns out it is the tenth book of a series, so I was thrown into the middle of an epic without any back story. Ringo and Cochrane are good enough writers where I stayed enthralled with the plot even when I didn’t understand the many references to previous events. The several alien species all have broad traits that both underscore the alienness and give the reader a good visual: Darhels are elf-like businessmen, Indowy are small green furry engineers, Tchpth are philosopher crabs, and Posleen are reptile warriors. I got the idea that previous books in the series give a much more thorough look at the aliens, but these high-level descriptions allowed the story to progress without chapters of exposition.

The plot here reads like a James Bond story where MI6 has been replaced by an Irish clan, Q is an alien, and Bond looks like Pamela Anderson. It rolls along quickly while still providing enough exposition that a new reader (like me) doesn’t get lost with the rich history. The action sequences were exciting, although the conclusion was a bit abrupt in my opinion. The hints at the larger scope the series covers, though, are intriguing enough that I suspect this won’t be my last trip to Ringo’s universe.

First Sentence:

The dark figure dropping over the edge of the building could have given lessons in camouflage to a Himmit.

Tell Me Where It Hurts, by Dr. Nick Trout

As a kid I found James Herriot’s All Creatures Great and Small on my mother’s bookshelf, and after reading it quickly devoured the rest of the set. When my brother-in-law offered to lend me Tell Me Where It Hurts by a different English vet (albeit one living in Boston), I eagerly accepted. While this more recent book didn’t quite live up to my memory of Herriot’s work, I thoroughly enjoyed it.

The writing was extremely witty; Trout’s use of language had me in stitches more than once. For instance, in his early days as a vet he was nervous talking to clients and he “would begin to itch. If you took a binge-drinking frat boy, stripped him naked, and hazed him with a gallon bucket full of ravenous fire ants poured over his entire body including his nether regions, I believe you would have a reasonable approximation of the degree of itchiness that ensued.” Trout also has a knack for anthropomorphizing the animals we meet in his clinic. A wired, nervous dog in the waiting room is described as “scanning the crowd for potential assassins as part of a Secret Service detail.” The book is riddled with funny and effective phrases like these.

The stories Trout tells do a great job of relating what it must be like to be a veterinarian. He captures both the joy of successfully treating a sick animal and the heartache and grief of a passing family pet equally well. I also got a good idea of what this profession means to the author and what being a vet is all about: “striving for a connection and collaboration between two completely different species ... trying to help a frightened, sick animal with their unequivocal acceptance of your intentions ... unlike human medicine, this exchange transpires in respectful silence, in a world of tacit, clueless tolerance.” I took delight in reading this work, and if you have a well-loved pet and spend any time at the local animal clinic, you probably will too.

First Sentence:

This might seem strange, coming from an Englishman, but sometimes emergency surgery in the middle of the night can play out like a synopsis of a perfect season for the Boston Red Sox.

Trace, by Patricia Cornwell

Cornwell is just going through the motions these days. Blow Fly was bad, but Trace was truly awful. Besides a ridiculous plot and characters that are continually unhappy and unpleasant, the writing is repetitive to the point of boredom. In one chapter, an alcoholic neighbor is described as such: “She has left the station and is halfway to drunk.” A mere two paragraphs later, “She stretches her words the way people do when they’ve left the station and are happily on their way to drunk.” On the next page, the same character is “pronouncing her French extremely well for one almost at her destination of drunk.” That is a lot of metaphor for such a short passage. Bah.

Trace is an ironic name for this book, because there isn’t a trace of enjoyment to be found here. Personalities I’d liked in previous novels were angry shells of themselves, and it had a lackluster plot with so many coincidences and holes it should have been a Murder She Wrote episode. I find it hard to believe that the same author that wrote Postmortem wrote this drivel.

First Sentence:

Yellow bulldozers hack earth and stone in an old city block that has seen more death than most modern wars, and Kay Scarpetta slows her rental SUV almost to a stop.