Monthly Archives: May 2015

Impressed with Amazon’s customer service

You may not know this about me, but I generally distrust large corporations. I always assume that, with millions of customers, they’d not be bothered with the loss of one. Thus, there’s no real incentive to go out of their way to be helpful. And while this may be true, true even for Amazon (I’ve heard any number of horror stories), it wasn’t at all true of my most recent interaction with them.

About 1:00 Friday afternoon, I had a crisis. I picked my Kindle up off the table and noticed what I thought was a scratch on my screen. That opinion quickly changed, as I noticed it was instead a crack! I had (have) no idea how it came to be. As far as I know, it’s never been dropped or sat on. My Kindle and I spend hours together most days. I treat it accordingly. I gentle it.

The crack was small. I was vexed, but thought I could live with it. However, within half an hour of reading, it grew to two – two and a half inches and was starting to affect the functionality of the touch screen. I sadly accepted that it was done for.

I set the poor thing aside and contacted Amazon customer services, via the chat option (noticing as I did that the crack was still growing). I was transferred to Charan Teja, who asked me once if the device had been jarred or submitted to any sort of pressure. When I said ‘no,’ they immediately offered to replace the Kindle, as there is no easy fix.

Now, I’ll grant that I order a lot from Amazon and I rarely return items. On the matrix of customers most likely to be trying to pull some sort of fast one, I’m probably pretty low. But I contacted Amazon fully prepared to be told that screens weren’t covered by the warranty or that I must somehow be responsible. I at least expected to be grilled on the subject. I expected to terminate contact angry and impotent feeling. The painlessness with which it all transpired instead was awe-inspiring to me.

I was emailed a return shipping label to send the broken Kindle back for free (in the box the new one arrives in) and told that my replacement Kindle would arrive Sunday the 17th. I actually laughed at this, assuming (perhaps rudely) that Charan must not be American and know that there is no Sunday post.

Regardless, I expected my new Kindle by Monday and was perfectly satisfied with this. I’d have actually been happy with regular old snail mail and a week-long delivery time. It’s still better than a permanently broken e-reader. Either way, I figured I’d finally get some of the physical books that I’d been meaning to read cleared off the shelf while I waited.

But the unexpected happened. Here I sat at about 8:00 this Sunday morning—unwashed, my hair pulled messily back, still in my pajamas, sipping idly at a cup of decaf coffee (yes, I know, but I’ve temporarily given up caffeine)—when there was a knock at the door and a USPS van in my drive.

Less than 48 (weekend) hours from contacting Amazon I have a new Kindle in hand! Any way I slice that it’s impressive. (And have I lived under a rock that I didn’t know there were Sunday deliveries?)

Thank you Amazon and USPS!

Book Review of Too Far, by Rich Shapero

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I won a paperback copy of Rich Shapero‘s Too Far.

Description from Goodreads:
Rich Shapero’s Too Far follows an ultra-imaginative pair, Robbie and Fristeen, through a transformative summer spent exploring the woods behind their remote Alaskan homes. As their family lives become increasingly unstable, the characters travel deeper and farther into their private world. The forest—and the gods who inhabit it—becomes their refuge until, at summer’s end, they are forced to choose between the crushing prospects of the real world, and the lethal demands of their ideal one.

Review:
Almost three years ago, I won a copy of the book in a giveaway, but I put off reading it because it generally has very poor reviews. (Averaging 2.8 and change on both Amazon and Goodreads.)

After reading the book and a number of those poor reviews, I think I have an explanation. I notice that an awful lot of those reviewers state that they had been given a copy of the book for free on their college campus. Now, I don’t know Shapero and I’m hypothesizing, but this seems to have been one of Shapero’s marketing techniques.

I can see why he might have gone that route. This is a book that speaks in symbolism and says a lot with what isn’t said. And I can follow the logic that a bunch of university students, still immersed in deconstructing the classics and, I don’t know, reciting Byronic verse or something might be a good audience for this type of literature. However, it ignores the fact that college campuses are also full of 22-year-old Engineering students, and football scholarship recipients, and any number of students that don’t fulfill the description of literati.

I mention all of this because, though I didn’t find myself a fan of the book, I think some of the poor reviews can be taken with a grain of salt as having been solicited from the wrong audience. (Not that that makes them less than legitimate, but the overwhelming number of poor reviews could stem from the book only making it into the hands of people who weren’t likely to enjoy it.)

Now, why didn’t I (a literati at heart) enjoy the book? Because I thought it was overwritten and indulgent on the author’s part. As I mentioned, it’s all symbolic. The children create a world of their own to deal with the troubles in their lives and much of it mimics those same troubles. But so very much of it is presented as actually happening, while the reader is left to remind themself that it’s only fantasy that it just feels like a drug fueled escapade. It felt as if the author used the excuse of everything being symbolic to go hog-wild and write anything he wanted. I wouldn’t be surprised to find much of it doesn’t actually mean anything, we’re just supposed to assume it does.

This was especially apparent when one looked at the language and the emotional, developmental and intellectual maturity of the kids. I understand the characters are six to maintain their innocence in a way older children could not, but nothing in these children’s behavior, language or understanding was that of a six year old and most definitely the narrator’s vocabulary wasn’t. It was envy-worthy.

What’s more, I found the strange erotic tension between the six year olds disturbing. Not just because they had the common, ‘I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours’ scene or even because they cavort around the forest naked, but because everything about their relationship is gendered. Robbie’s view of Fristeen is unabashedly tinged with subtle eroticism and Fristeen’s behavior toward Robbie is subtly inviting.

Beyond that, there is a definite feel of Robbie being a MAN and Fristeen being WOMAN that just shouldn’t be there. It shows up in everything from who speaks, to who leads, to who makes decisions, to who comforts or protects whom. I know children are culturally indoctrinated early, but this was far too strong for children so young. It simply felt artificial.

And on a personal note, I was consistently annoyed by the patronizing was Robbie and his father treated and spoke about his mother. Mental health issues or not, there was a problem there.

I will say that the book is well edited. I don’t remember a single error catching my attention and I think Shapero really just wants to write poetry, because though the story as a whole was a fail for me, the actual writing is beautiful.

Book Review of The Rogue Hunter, by Lynsay Sands

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I picked up a used copy of The Rogue Hunter, by Lynsay Sands, at Goodwill.

Description from Goodreads:
Samantha Willan is a workaholic lawyer. She’s grateful for some rest and relaxation in cottage country, and after a recent breakup she wants to stay as far away from romance as possible. Then she meets her irresistible new neighbor. There’s something strange and mysterious about his eyes. Is it just her imagination, or are they locked on her neck?

Garrett Mortimer is a rogue hunter. His last assignment united Lucian Argeneau with his lifemate, and Mortimer is hoping this one will be less…adventurous. He’s here to track down a reported rogue, but fun in the sun is every bloodsucker’s nightmare. Worse, he can’t seem to get his mind off Samantha, especially when he spies her skinny-dipping in the lake. After eight hundred years as a bachelor, is he ready to turn a volatile attraction into a lasting love affair?

Review:
What nonsense did I just read? I mean really, what was this supposed to be? What it was was boring and basically a failure as both a PNR and a decent mystery.

Let me start with the fact that all of the characters are paper thin—no significant history, no real emotional depth, no obvious beliefs or thoughts outside of the immediate. In fact, for most of the book the side characters just went off by themselves and left the H & h alone. So, why bother with them?

There was also almost no world-building. What little there was, explaining vampires, came at about page 300! This is probably because the book is labeled as “The Rogue Hunter (Argeneau #10) (Rogue Hunter #1).” Someone tell me what that is supposed to mean. Is it the tenth Argeneau book or the first Rogue Hunter book? Because after reading it, I’m 100% certain it can’t be both. While I could follow the plot, it was always painfully apparent I was missing something. The world-building, as stated, wasn’t there. Probably because it was in the 9 previous books. People were referenced that the reader didn’t know, I strongly suspect Mort was a side character form another book, etc. So, as a 10th Argeneau book, it might have been successful (I don’t know as I read it as the first Rogue Hunter book), but as a first in a series, it’s a failure.

Now let me address the mystery around the rogue that Mortimer is supposed to be hunting. This investigation literally takes up about 20 pages of this 373-page book and then it’s solved with anti-climatic aplomb. Let’s be honest, Sands didn’t set out to write about a rogue vampire and the hunters who go after it. It is just the device used to get the two characters in the same place at the same time. Disappointing to the extreme. I’d have preferred the man to have just been on vacation and Sands not to even bothered with the half-assed attempt she made at pretending this book is anything other than a romance (which is pretty sad because the romance is pretty weak too).

The romance? CHEESY! There is the cliché immediate recognition of one’s life mate (that somehow turns the tough, broody Mort into a bumbling social throwback), the fragile female in need of assistance with, you know, walking, stupid antics to get around telling the truth, the convenient ability to change people’s mind if they ask inconvenient questions (thereby negating any possible narrative tension), and true immortal love and loyalty developing in a mere two weeks. What’s more, the whole book is essentially a tease. Over and over Sam and Mort almost have sex, but don’t quite manage it. Redundant…and PREDICTABLE!

This book is little more than a collection of weak PNR tropes, and none of them were executed particularly well. But worse than any of that, is the fact that I was bored for 373 pages. This sort of book is the epitome of why I refused to read romance for 30 years of my life. I’m in no hurry to read another Lynsay Sands book. How the heck does dreck like this get published over some of the great indies I’ve read?