The Graveyard Book is a straight-up children’s novel. I searched around Neil Gaiman’s shelf in the fantasy section of my local bookstore for quite a bit before thinking to check “Young Readers.” However, adults who enjoy Gaiman’s other work (especially Coraline) should not let this dissuade them from picking up a copy. While it does not contain the depth of American Gods or the subtle humor of Good Omens, The Graveyard Book is a pleasant break from more mature works of fiction. Gaiman’s storytelling is good enough to transport one back to the days of elementary school and flashlights under the covers, and makes for an easy weekend read.

The novel is essentially a collection of short vignettes of the life of Bod (short for Nobody) Owens, a boy who is adopted as a baby by an entire graveyard after the horrific murder of his family by a man known simply as “Jack.” Bod is raised by his adopted family, a pair of respectable ghosts known as Mr. and Mrs. Owens, his tutor Silas (who is neither dead nor alive), and a myriad of other ghostly figures.

. . .

Perfume, by Patrick Suskind, follows the life of a man born in Paris, 1738 with no personal odor; a disquieting feature that people only notice subconsciously. This man, John-Baptiste Grenouille is best described by Suskind as “one of the most gifted and abominable personages in an era that knew no lack of gifted and abominable personages.” His gift is his sense of smell; a sense of smell that allows him to create some of the most beautiful perfumes known to mankind. 

He is also unquestionably abominable, which is what turns this imaginative little book into a true horror story. Throughout the tale, Grenouille draws further and further into his darker nature, until he commits a string of horrific acts in a quest to find the ultimate perfume. 

 . . .

When one thinks of the Anglo-Saxon epic Beowulf, philosophical ruminations and existential crises are not often the first things that comes to mind. However, this did not stop John Gardner, author of the novel Grendel, from completely flipping the classic on its head. This small yet intense novel tells the story of Beowulf from the point of view of Grendel: the angry, confused monster that ruthlessly attacks the mead-hall of Hrothgar, king of the Danes.

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House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski is the sort of book that people tend to either hate or love. The text is infuriatingly complicated, even though its message and storyline are quite simple. Major reviews of the book swing from commentary on Danielewski’s genius to criticism regarding the convoluted nature of the typography.

The main reason for this is its strange narrative style. It flips between two stories by means of footnotes; that of Johnny Truant, an aptly-named disjointed youth who works at a tattoo parlor in Hollywood, and the story of a Pulitzer-prize winning photographer named Navidson. They are connected by a mysterious man called Zampano, a character who is, for the entirety of the novel, dead.

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There has been a lot of talk lately about 'Steampunk 'sub-culture' and to be quite honest, I don't really know what Steampunk sub-culture will turn out to be. I do hope that at its core will be people getting together and making things.

I also hope that it turns out to be a positive sub-culture, since one that brings people together for the sake of creating is more resistant to co-opting by commercial interest and ultimately more deeply subversive to the mainstream.

Charles de Lint has written sixty-seven books to date, he is nothing if not prolific.  Ranging from collections of short-stories to full novels, almost all of them have helped to pioneer a growing area of fiction known as ‘urban fantasy.’  Like any genre, it’s a bit difficult to define, as every writer brings their own interpretation to it.  Imagine, if you will, the dragons, fairies, and elves of high fantasy.  Now put them in the nearest modern city and you'll have a fairly good approximation.

De Lint’s city of choice in about half of his books is Newford, a fictional North American town. Here a whole cast of characters reside each with their own past and problems. If you’ve ever read Terry Pratchett’s Discworld series, you’ll understand how this works. While there is a chronological sequence of events, there isn’t a first book to start with or a last one with which to end.  After much fretting, I've decided to begin with the Onion Girl.

After the amazing success of Tachyon Publication's special offer for Ann & Jeff VanderMeer's Steampunk (well over 100 books sold!) its become clear to me that one of the things our readers greatly enjoy is, well, reading.

Thus it is with real pleasure that I introduce a new feature here at The Steampunk Workshop; book reviews!  The books you will find discussed here will not be exclusively Steampunk books, though there will certainly be some of those, but books that are known and loved by our contributors.

Our first selection and review is brought to you by the Lady Almira, a young Special Weapons Officer currently serving aboad the H.M.S. Chronabelle and someone whom I had the great honour of being introduced to at this past weekend's Maker Faire.  After meeting several members of this crew I realized that I and my fellows are merely proto-SteamPunks and that the crew of the Chronabelle and their ilk are actually the first generation, and to that I say: "Huzzah!"