Origin

Dan Brown is one of the few authors I read anytime he comes out with new work. The Robert Langdon series is one of my favorites. I love stories which involve deciphering symbols to solve something.

Of course I was really excited when I heard about Origin. I loved Inferno. I never read Dante, but I loved the twists and unraveling of tangled clues within the symbols. It's probably my favorite in the series.

Followed closely by Origin but for entirely different reasons.

In terms of plot, pacing, symbolism, character development and sleuthing, I feel Origin is the weakest of the five. Particularly the pacing...I have never wanted to skip to the end so badly as I did with this book. There is a TON of build up in the chapters; many times it felt like a lot of the storytelling was circling the same concept dressed in different words. I've even caught myself skipping some paragraphs just to get to the next part.

The identity of the culprit is also pretty obvious early on. It seems, though I could be wrong since I've never kept track with the other books, like there are less clues to decipher. Maybe because unlike the other books, the clues aren't born from an antagonist using symbols to carry out his mission. If anything, it felt like it resembles closer to real life with the lack of information to decode a personal password. And while Origin is probably the most realistic of the series, for once that is not something I really look for in this kind of story.

And yet the philosophy and perspectives presented are the realism I enjoy and wanted to see. The thriller aspect should be as exciting and outlandish as can be. I revel in the perpetrator coming up with elaborate plots with exotic symbolism; it's what I've come to love about Langdon's "adventures." But the theme always seems to strike at the heart of humanity and its issues. Origin is no exception.

"Nature ― in an effort to promote disorder ― creates little pockets of order."

I love lines like these that succinctly illustrate complex ideas. Granted it comes from a scientist (in the story) explaining his theory, but this line sums up all his analyses well.

"Memento mori... Remember death. Even for those who wield great power, life is brief. There is only one way to triumph over death, and that is by making our lives masterpieces."

I hadn't realized until the very moment of putting these quotes in the post, but it seems fitting that the two of the three quotes I jotted down from the book that struck me the most each come from opposing sides. Memento mori is a phrase that intrigues me a lot if you couldn't tell from my profile picture. I like seeing the various interpretations and/or expressions of what "to remember death" means to others. While I've heard this interpretation in different forms before, I really like how the words express wisdom, strength and conviction, especially in this context ― a parent passing words to live by to his child.

And those little things about the book for all its shortcomings are what appeals to my nature. I may have liked this story the least of the five, but it's also the one I find the most relatable.

Of course there only one way to close this.

"Nothing is invented, for it's written in nature first. Originality consists of returning to the origin."

― Antoni Gaudí

The Outsider

This was my first Stephen King novel, a whopping 576 pages (ambitious much?).  I was already familiar with King's work in other media (I watched The Shining late in life), but I obviously had no clue about the author in his element. I've been somewhat curious for a while, but I either did not have an opportunity or, as is usually the case, was distracted by something else.

Thus when this little number fell into my lap, I prioritized it on my reading list. And I'm proud to say I devoured this monster in three days.

I find it fascinating reading one book immediately after another with different authors. It's like interviewing a variety of people; some will be colorfully expressive, others tightly precise and the rest flowing in between. Now more than any other time, I've been noticing the voice in the books I'm reading.

Except for this book.

When I said I devoured, it probably was more like inhaling. Unlike all the others I've read, I didn't get a feel for the voice. Rather than an interview, this was more like watching a show. I didn't see words; I was watching the plot unfold. I can see the inside of the Andersons' house, the baseball field where Maitland was arrested. I know the unique pitches and tones of the characters' voices so well that if I actually heard one, I could immediately match it to a name and face. At least that's the experience, which is exactly what this novel is -- an experience. Suffice it to say I have no clue about King's voice. I couldn't even keep notes on particular quotes or passages that I found remarkable.

Except for one:

"Holly paused, looking down at her hands. The nails were unpolished, but quite neat; she had quit chewing them, just as she had quit smoking. Broken herself of the habit. She sometimes thought that her pilgrimage to something at least approximating mental stability (if not genuine mental health) had been marked by the ritual casting off of bad habits. It had been hard to let them go. They were friends."

This was the only passage that made me pause to whip out my little notebook and scribble it quickly so as not to lose the reading momentum I was in. I love this passage with every fiber of my being. It illuminates a character while pointedly speaking to my bad habits making me so enviously in awe of the skill it takes to thread simple words into an elegantly powerful description. The last line really gets me.

On top of that, he managed to trick me too. Up until probably a little past the halfway point of the story, I was convinced I was watching a riveting but normal crime episode like those found in Criminal Minds or CSI. I had completely forgotten there are supernatural elements in King's works. He really had me going for so long that even the hints toward the supernatural were largely ignored then viewed skeptically before being accepted completely. All of it done as smooth as butter.

If Megan Miranda's talent and hard work can clearly be discerned from All the Missing Girls, then you can just feel all that and King's experience in The Outsider, the work of a veteran writer.

Bonus: the supernatural wasn't heavy yet he still managed to creep me the hell out.

The Lost Island

The Lost Island by Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child was the second book I managed to dig up in my office's trove of book treasures. Reading the jacket cover, I knew that this story was exactly what I was in the mood to read -- following ancient clues that lead to a discovery with global implications.

Right up my alley.

After reading it though, overall it wasn't my favorite of the group of books I read. As much as I love reading these kind of stories, unfortunately I felt I was brought out of the story a few times with thoughts like "really?" or "what?", which often lead to rereading the same passages thinking I misread them. Most of these thoughts revolved around the events of the story. I can get fully absorbed without question in stories where a guy impregnates a girl from a different parallel universe, teenagers fighting to the death for the entertainment of the elites, even purgatory being a fancy bar where people play games to determine whether their souls gets recycled back to the world or gets disintegrated into nothing.

In short, I can be 115% in the world of the story no matter what it throws at me. But only if it successfully carries me there without flipping the boat.

I'm sorry to say that I couldn't stay on the boat with the premise of the story. While I wanted to believe in the miracle plant and the creature that makes a thundering appearance, the different points guiding the logic behind those elements felt a bit feeble. It didn't really help when the beginning of the book felt strong; I was so in on the first heist. Then it took a sharp left turn probably when the allusion to the creature's existence came up.

There was also the issue of the main character, Gideon, feeling more like a supporting one for the majority of the story. I didn't feel compelled to have a stake in his success. In fact I sometimes felt he could disappear and it wouldn't matter.

Probably the biggest reason that brought me out of the story was when it felt like I had been reading one author and suddenly the next chapter felt like a different author. In fairness, I obviously knew there were two authors for this story, so it may very well be that burden of knowledge having an influence. Nonetheless, the chapters that were just about Eli Glinn, Gideon's employer, sounded like it had a different voice than the one just before it, which definitely made me pause.

Still.

In spite of all the above, I read to the end. I read to the end because I wanted to know how it all ended. And there's something to that. Even if the writing at times it felt like there were obviously two different authors writing, I still felt the tension in the characters' mission. And the mysteries surrounding the ancient clues were making me desperate to find out what they were hiding.

Above everything else though, there is at least one reason to read this book: the action scenes. These scenes were probably one of the few moments I was completely absorbed in the moment. My favorite was definitely the sea chase that lead to the shipwreck. I probably will never forget the image of the bullet piercing the woman's forehead or the sensation of extreme thirst as they were floating out in sea. If I were ever to write an action scene, I would definitely refer back to this book for inspiration.

Battle of Azeroth: A Crisis of Lore

Normally I'd be writing about The Lost Island by Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child for this post, but the controversy surrounding the direction that World of Warcraft's lore is taking regarding the Horde faction piqued my interest a bit. Apparently it's been quite the talk among fans, but for the most part it seems like they're not taking it too well.

While I don't have a strong opinion about it, I do have some thoughts particularly because the subject concerns storytelling.

I started playing WoW in the middle of Cataclysm. Prior to this, I was not a gamer in any sense. Even after all these years developing my off-and-on playing style, I wouldn't consider myself a very adept gamer. But I enjoy playing WoW because it's one of our activities, and it's special to us.

That said, I've always been too busy trying to figure out what the hell I'm doing to pay a lot of attention to the storyline. There are two factions with several races between them. Each have some kind of back story, which for some can get more elaborate with time. And then there's the world villains, meaning different expansions as well as all the myriad of side stories and characters I can't possibly remember.

I still have trouble strafing with my characters. Following the story of an entire world while playing was very low on my priorities.

Still, I recently found myself kind of curious about WoW's history, especially with a lot of the trailers, cut scenes and yes, even the movie. For some reason, it only occurred to me now that it kind of pays to follow even a little bit of the story even if its just to understand why characters behave in a certain way or the reasons for their decisions.

Which brings me back to the controversy where many fans are upset and confused about Sylvanas' (current leader of the Horde) decision to burn the Teldrassil tree causing the thousands of innocents' deaths despite already winning the battle. The Horde faction is not inherently "the bad guys" in spite of its members' general appearance. Just like the Alliance has done some morally questionable things, actions by the Horde were not always truly malicious. A good amount of people can sympathize with where they were coming from. Good and evil has never been cut and dry.

The Horde believe in fighting with honor above almost anything else. Thus to many, there seems to be no rhyme or reason to the Teldrassil tree burning decision other than the banshee losing her damn mind.

Which is obviously very true judging solely by the cinematic unveiling Sylanas as the perpetrator behind Teldrassil. She lost everything the day she became a banshee -- it was clear in the flashback she had -- this definitely goes for her mind, heart and soul. She is the physical embodiment of vengeance, anguish and chaos.

It's a pity really.

What happened to her...having her lead the Horde...Teldrassil...the upcoming war...the next Sylvanas probably...

Mostly though it's really a pity that now it kind of feels like the good and evil lines have been set. Of course we still don't know how it all ends, but at this moment in time, there seems to be very little that can redeem Sylvanas and make the Horde's actions seem less evil. When people follow a story, they usually emotionally invest in the main characters -- they root for them despite their flaws (for many it's because of them). Understandably then, it's a difficult position to be in for those who have been following the Horde storyline, especially players who have been doing it for years. There's not much to root for in "the bad guys".

All The Missing Girls

This was my first book after being on a serious reading hiatus. As mentioned in the last post, I picked it up at the office where plenty of books have been donated over the years. I had finally been itching to read something for a bit but wasn't really sure where to start. On the recommendation of a co-worker, I perused the pleasure reading shelves. I figured since this would be my first book in a while, and I was just grabbing some book without having much background knowledge beforehand, there was no need for me to develop a concrete checklist of all the things I wanted in a book. I did at least have the idea of wanting to read something suspenseful that would surprise me in the end but that was about it.

After reading several jacket covers, I came across Megan Miranda's All The Missing Girls. The premise definitely intrigued me, so I felt satisfied that it would at least be an adequate first book.

Talk about really underestimating its value.

First off, as anyone can find online, this story is told in reverse. Crafting a novel chronologically is already feat -- doing it in reverse while still keeping it suspenseful and engaging is a damn miracle. I can't even begin to imagine the level work, energy and creativity that had to go into this story, but it's definitely not one on which the rest of us average mortals are operating. Not to mention the courage you'd need to take such a risk, because there are so many ways that it could have backfired. Yet for some reason as I was reading, it felt natural for the story to unfold in reverse.

As far as surprising me went, I've got to admit that although the resolution to the mystery behind the missing girls wasn't a jaw-dropping shock, the circumstances surrounding it took me off guard. I didn't exactly expect the how of it all, and that was really satisfying. I believe a combination of the circumstances with the reverse storytelling really keeps the reader in a delicate balance of being curious and engrossed. In other words, the pacing felt spot on; I neither wanted to come to a dead stop nor rush to the end. At any given point, I was thoroughly wrapped up in the moment.

Of course, all this was further accentuated by the writing. My heavens the writing. I know I mentioned earlier that there had to be a ton of work (naturally) that went into the life of this book. That said, Miranda undoubtedly has a gift with words matched by few. The voice that I was listening to in my mind as I read along was simply beautiful -- I have no other way to describe it. And now thanks to this book, I have one of my favorite analogies to describe people, which I intend to use regularly:

"People were like Russian nesting dolls -- versions stacked inside the latest edition. But they all still lived inside, unchanged, just out of sight."

I've got to be honest. Other than Haruki Murakami, I rarely pay attention to the way an author writes. I'm usually the type of reader that as long as I'm lost in a story, everything else can just pass by me. Since this book, however, I find myself paying attention to word choices, phrasing and arrangement if only that when a piece of text catches my eye, I'd like to think it's something I would've written though I know it'd have to be from a better version of currently abilities. I'm pretty sure there are a variety of reasons for my attentiveness, but I'm mostly going to chalk it up to my own experience with writing (really the lack thereof if we're being real) and the way in which time has affected it.

In any case, All The Missing Girls has all the right elements going for it -- voice, pacing, language, suspense and a rare kind of storytelling. I'm looking forward to reading more of Megan Miranda's work if only to just take the unique storytelling ride that is special to her. Until then, I'll close out with a simple quote that resonated fittingly with me the moment I saw it:

"[Time] shows you things if you let it."

Measuring Life in Readings

It's been such a long time since I've done any pleasure reading. Apparently my brain noticed, because I devoured 4 books in what has to be the equivalent of a week and a half.

I didn't even realize I had a serious literary drought.

In any case, I read some pretty amazing books in this run. In order

• ALL THE MISSING GIRLS by Megan Miranda 
• THE LOST ISLAND by Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child 
• THE OUTSIDER by Stephen King 
• ORIGIN by Dan Brown

The first two books I picked up at work in the communal book shelves; King's book was passed to me by a lovely co-worker the moment she finished it, and the last has been waiting patiently in my Kindle for my undivided attention.

I plan to share my thoughts on each in individual posts not only because they deserve it, but I sincerely tried to read books that would be somewhat similar this time around, and that's not exactly what happened. I was looking to get back into the groove of reading by following a mood, which serendipitously lead to an unexpected yet fulfilling reading adventure. In order to try and express it, I believe examining each book is required with it's own post.

Currently I'm reading an older book: THE SCARECROW by Michael Connelly -- another member of my office's shared books.

An adventure indeed.