Simon Fayter and the Doors of Bone

Simon Fayter and the Doors of Bone
by Austin J. Bailey
Recommended Ages: 12+

I recently fell prey to one of those ads for exciting new fantasy franchises that float up and down my Facebook feed, and ordered – not this book mind you – but what proved to be one of the most dreadfully written books I've ever laid eyes on. Eventually, perhaps, I'll review that book. I only mention it here so to give you an idea of how hesitant I was to risk falling into the same trap. But then I went and bought this book, lured in through a similar ad, and after reading it all in one sick afternoon on the couch, I'll grant that it was quite fun and now I'm interested in continuing with the quintet.

It's a frightfully original story idea. There's this little boy who's in danger from the day he's born. Luckily he has a couple of wizards watching over him, protecting him from the baddies who are out to get him. The big bad seems interested in what he's destined to do. As he reaches a certain age (13, actually), he starts to experience some weird stuff, and then he receives the news that he's a wizard just before he gets whisked off to a secret, magical school and becomes lifelong besties with the first two kids he meets. I know, it doesn't sound like anything you've ever read before, right?

Author Austin J. Bailey is self-aware enough that he actually makes references to J.K. Rowling and Harry Potter while teasing the fact that this variation on the Hogwarts trope veers quickly off the path. So, yes, a kid who's completely ignorant about the existence of magic, and its history and culture, lands like a fish out of water at a magical school so remote from everyday life that it might as well be on a different planet (in this case, it is), and after a Sorting Hat-type scene is revealed to be the Promised One, an instant celebrity, who is nevertheless instantly hated by one professor and who gets taken under the rather eccentric wing of another. And then, at midnight, he and his two besties go through a door they're not supposed to go (especially in the middle of the night) and stick their noses into matter they'd best have left alone. So far, so very Harry.

But if you don't cherry-pick the facts with which I filled that last paragraph, or phrase some of them differently, the impression that this is a straight-up Harry Potter knockoff recedes somewhat into the background. Simon, whose last name is actually Jacobson, goes to a school called Skelligard that takes young wizards from all sorts of planets. They arrive via (ahem) Portal Potty, then travel through another spacetime portal before arriving at – yes, a castle – and being weighed on an elaborate scale that is meant to tell them which branch of magic they belong to. There are supposed to be seven types, with names such as Clink, Bright, Strong, Seer, Muse and two more that have slipped my mind. But the scale calibrated to those types literally explodes after Simon steps on it, and the weighing can only continue when a very old, obsolete model is brought up from the (capital ess) Stores that includes an eighth branch of magic: Fayter. They stopped looking for Fayters ages ago. There has only ever been one, ever, and he was the great hero who founded the school a thousand years ago. And guess which branch the needle points to when Simon steps on the scale.

All this is very exciting for everybody. Already, before he can even pass his admission interview (which, strangely, happens after the weighing), Simon has an enemy on the faculty, and none of the profs wants to be his advisor, and the sheer weight of the stuff Simon doesn't know about the world he has gotten himself into starts to press down on him with crushing force. There are prophecies that another Fayter would arise, prophecies long since written off as demented ravings. Even so, Simon's inability to fulfill them, upon request, is counted against him – among other things too complicated to describe here. So, he does what any Harry Potter type would do: He sneaks out of his dorm in the middle of the night and takes matters into his own hands. With disastrous results.

Simon and his friends, Tessa and Drake, find themselves on an interplanetary adventure where his cockiness, rashness and towering ignorance get him, them, and an entire world into ridiculous levels of danger. But along the way, he starts learning how to use the magical cloak he inherited from the original Fayter, tries to use his alternating days of good and bad luck to better advantage, makes awesome discoveries and important allies, and begins a growing process that, if it continues for another four books or so, might tip the scales of destiny for the entire universe, somehow. Heck, I don't know. This is as far as I've read in the series so far. But thanks to some of Simon's goofy, autobiographical footnotes, that does seem to be the case.

As in the previous book I reviewed, I can't find any information on Fantastic Fiction about either this book or its author. I'm staggered at how many times FF has failed me lately. Also, I'm not happy with the way the author's website works, making it quite a chore to get the information I was after. But what I eventually gathered is that this is the first book of a five-book series, followed in order by (Simon Fayter and) the Tomb of Rone, the Titan's Groan, the Eyes of Stone and the King Alone. Other Bailey titles include the Magemother series (The Mage & the Machine, The Empty Throne, The Paradise Twin and The Bridge to Nowhere). As for "about the author," his website identifies Bailey as a Wyoming-based author who grew up in Utah and is married with four kids – which is a good deal more informative than the back-of-the-book blurb with its nonsense about living in Hawaii with 17 cats and an albino baboon, working as a reindeer impersonator and collecting tumbleweeds.

Dragon Vet

Dragon Vet
by Dean W. Scott
Recommended Ages: 12+

Stephen has been apprenticed to Dr. James Wright, a veterinarian in a world that has horses and carriages, and also two moons, for what it's worth. And also (apparently) dragons. They're not a common sight these days, but when word reaches Dr. Wright that one is laying waste to a patch of countryside and a succession of heroic knights have been irritating it mightily – to their cost and that of surrounding settlements – he offers his aid to the very grumpy duke who rules the area. The duke reluctantly agrees to hold back his heroes for 10 days but threatens to punish Wright harshly if he makes matters worse. As it turns out, a little veterinary medicine settles the dragon's upset tummy, and the flying reptile leaves the area in peace.

So begins a remarkable series of veterinary adventures for a doctor, his apprentice, and assorted colleagues and friends, to whom legendary creatures seem to be attracted for some reason. They deal with a cockatrice infestation. They rehome a unicorn and her foal, frustrating the aims of several parties of hunters. They help people with magical, um, animal-related conditions who would become outcasts from society, or worse, if people knew. They befriend a strange, jackalope-like creature with powers that challenge Wright's understanding of reality. And they finally cross the kingdom to face the most dangerous monster of all – and I'm not talking about a hydra. I'm talking about a human being.

One thing that's interesting about this book is how it take a serious, veterinary look at mythological creatures and their ailments. It's sort of like All Creatures Great and Small with cryptids. The unicorn has foaling problems. The werewolf gets caught in a trap. The medusa's head snakes have a skin condition. But the human characters also come in for their share of compassionate attention, including a couple of folks who are, shall we say, touched in the head; and a married pair of women whose relationship features in a sermon right in line with the moral reeducation program currently underway. (That bit's a tad on-the-nose in a "very special afterschool presentation" kind of way.)

The writing is pretty good, I think, in spite of a number of grammatical stumbles that should have been caught in the book editing phase, not to mention an irritating alternation between smart and dumb quotes/apostrophes. It has about it the look, feel and heft of a self-published novel that wants just a little more polish, and a smaller page layout (the better to hold in the hand), to become a commercial hit. But again, I'll give it props for doing well by its characters, making cryptids seem like legitimate objects of veterinary science and sketching an effective dramatic shape, with a powerful climax.

I can find no information about either this book or author Dean W. Scott on Fantastic Fiction. Clearly, this doesn't mean they don't exist. The link on his name, above, is based on the assumption that the same Dean Scott who wrote this novel is also the veteran veterinarian who authored a number of scholarly articles, including "Stop Looking for Unicorns!" and "Veterinarians Are Cooler Than Physicians," which definitely sound like titles by an author who could also write this book. According to Amazon's list of books by Dean W. Scott, DVM(!), other titles by him include Vet School Survival Guide: Notes from a Back Row Student; a children's picture book called Callie with a cover illustration of a cow with a rainbow unicorn horn; a short story horror collection called The Deep End of Midnight; and a three-book set called The Lighter Side of Veterinary Medicine. His inside-the-back-cover blurb (which I just noticed this moment) also lists The Incomplete Dog Book: Nothing You Ever Wanted to Know About Dogs, the short story collection Something for Everyone and the illustrated children's book Cowabunga. Now you know.

510. Color Psalm

Since I was versifying with metaphors based on the primary colors of flavor, I thought it made sense to also explore color as such. I meant to write a hymn for children and youth, but I don't think it turned out that way. But whatever. I don't have any particular tune in mind, as I write this, but I'm sure a suitable tune will turn up sometime.

Gray was the disordered deep
O'er whose face the Spirit swept.
Then God called as if from sleep
All that flew and swam and crept—
Called from nothing, fresh and new,
Every color, shade and hue.

Who knows now what tints were seen
In that first blush of the earth:
What varieties of green,
Purples, oranges, took birth!
But we know, to mankind's cost,
How that paradise was lost.

Black were Adam's guilt, Eve's grief
When sin entered, bringing death.
Even then, God vowed relief,
Hope borne on the Spirit's breath:
Dying, rising from the dead,
Christ would crush the serpent's head.

Blue the worldwide ocean stood
O'er the highest mountain's crown,
Rainbow pledging that no flood
Would so many sinners drown
Till the baptized close their eyes;
Till the slain in Christ arise.

Red the blood of Jesus fell,
Washing our stained garments white.
Easter burst the gates of hell,
Death's cheek paling at the sight.
He who went up will come down,
Giving us a golden crown.

509. Flavor Lament

Here's a weird conceit for a hymn – building it on metaphors for the different tastes detectable to the human tongue. I debated changing the order of the stanzas to put the end-timey bits last, but somehow the original order in which I wrote them won out. I suppose you could explain it as the kind of lament where the faithful heart first cries out in the heat of anguish for the end of the world, then cools down a bit and admits that it wouldn't hurt for the Lord to give the ungodly another chance or two. I'm not thinking of any particular tune as I write this, though I'm pretty sure there are some good existing hymn-tunes to choose from.

Oh, bitter bonds and labor!
What sweat that stings the eyes,
That steals from food its savor
And cooling draft denies!
Oh, that the Lord would come,
Us into freedom leading
And richest marrow feeding,
All in one harvest-home!

Oh, salty tears of mourning!
What dread weighs on the heart!
The world in pangs aborning
Cries as if torn apart.
Oh, that our Light would rise,
Deliver us with fleetness,
And kiss with perfect sweetness
Our sore and weary eyes!

Oh, acid words of mocking!
How the ungodly rage,
Their ears with malice blocking
The words that strife assuage!
Oh, that a trumpet-blast
Would shake men's jaded senses,
And He who truth dispenses
May pierce their hearts at last!

O Christ, whose word and actions
Set many teeth on edge,
Strike dumb the brawling factions;
Convict them of Your pledge.
Pour that which pleases heav'n
Upon their sins; despite them,
Into Your feast invite them;
God's wrath with mercy leav'n!

The Lost Home World

The Lost Home World
by Cerberus Jones
Recommended Ages: 10+

Amelia's older brother James is struggling to understand why the wormholes connecting to the gate under their family's hotel on the Australian seashore are so far off schedule, when suddenly a completely unexpected gate opens up and through it steps a mesmerizingly beautiful man. Mallan claims to be the long-lost brother of Lady Naomi, an alien woman who (we now learn) arrived on earth through the gate when she was only a baby, and was raised by groundskeeper Tom. Mallan quickly wins everyone over and seems to be about to take Lady Naomi back to their homeworld ... but it's James, again, who smells a rat.

James is all right in the upstairs area, for sure. But when the world is in danger – or, at very least, their otherworldly friend – it's Amelia and her best friend, Charlie, who must leap into action. Mallan isn't who he seems, and who he actually is is so much more awful than anyone could have guessed. Or maybe, they should have – but he outwitted them until it was all but too late.

Or maybe it is too late. The bad guy certainly enjoys having the upper hand, and Amelia can't do much to stop him from carrying her and a terrifyingly dangerous item through the next available wormhole. One possible outcome is that the entire earth could be turned inside out and sucked into the vast Nothing that fills the cosmos. Obviously, since this is book 7 of 8, that doesn't happen. But what does happen is pretty far out.

It's been a couple years since I read the other books in the Gateway series, because I couldn't find a copy of this particular installment for less than a ridiculous amount of money. Then I visited the amazing Thimbleberry Books in downtown Marshfield, Wisconsin, whose owner and his kitty-cat shop assistant helped me track down a copy that I could order for only a mildly foolish sum. And so I finally read it, and completed the series, and the world is beautiful again.

Cerberus Jones is the three-headed writing team of Chris Morphew, Rowan McAuley and David Harding. None of them, nor their group alter-ego, shows up in a search of Fantastic Fiction. Though the edition I read was published out of Tulsa, Oklahoma, the book was originally published in Australia. So, that might explain why information is so thin on the ground about these folks. But if you like your world not being overrun by deceiving reptiles, thank them and the Forgotten Bay hotel for their valuable work of guarding that gate which none of us is supposed to know about. Wink, nudge.

Dragons in a Bag

Dragons in a Bag
by Zetta Elliott
Recommended Ages: 8+

Jax's mother needs somewhere to stash him during her day in court, so she brings him to the apartment of an eccentric, older lady Jax has never met before. Mama calls her "Ma," though she's no blood relation. Everyone calls her that, and she says she's raised many kids though none of them were her own. Ma reluctantly takes Jax for the day, but it's clear it isn't the best timing for her. You see, Ma's a witch, and she's just taken delivery of a package containing tiny creatures who need to be moved to another world – a world with more magic than modern-day Brooklyn.

Ma wonders out loud whether Jax might like to be her next apprentice. He isn't sure how ready he is to experience weird stuff like interdimensional travel, especially when something goes wrong with their transporter (a gatehouse at the entrance to Prospect Park) and Jax inadvertently leaves Ma alone in the age of dinosaurs. But a sense of responsibility comes over him, and he recruits old and new friends to help him, and sets out on the beginning of an adventure involving super-smart squirrels, talking rats, and scaly critters that grow like ganbusters when they're fed sweet treats.

This is the first book of a (currently) five-book set, which continues with The Dragon Thief, The Witch's Apprentice, The Enchanted Bridge and The War of the Witches. If it suffers from anything, it's from the sense that it isn't a complete story, and that perhaps the whole quintet is really one story that's been hacked into five books by a greedy publisher that hasn't, apparently, learned anything from the Harry Potter phenomenon about kid's willingness to plow through a thick book if the story is on point.

Canadian-U.S. author Zetta Elliott is also the author of the "City Kids" quartet (starting with The Phoenix on Barkley Street), several standalone novels such as A Wish After Midnight and The Ship in the Garden, and some collections of plays and poems. In her acknowledgments at the end of this book, she explains that in this series of books, she set out to build a magical fantasy for young readers around urban settings and characters of color. I think it might just work; but as I said, I'd prefer to hold a complete story in my hands.

10 'Goosebumps' books

Recommended Ages: 8+

Would you believe, I'd never read one of R. L. Stine's "Goosebumps" books until very recently? Somewhere or other, I picked up a 10-book boxed set of apparently random titles from the series – they're in no kind of sequence – and on and off over the past two or three months, I read them.

There are some general things I could say about them. First, they're light, kiddie horror stories aimed at, I would estimate, an elementary- to middle-school audience. They're chapter books with ghoulish cover art, narrated by kids who aren't altogether noble and heroic, but you can relate to them because they have character flaws most kids can probably recognize in themselves. They try to capture what an ordinary kid in the real world would feel upon encountering actual, walking mummies or scarecrows, living ventriloquist's dummies and garden gnomes, ghosts, werewolves, blob monsters, you name it. They parcel out the breaks between their brief chapters to build suspense and create jump scares. Their level of horror is mildly creepy, but not screaming-heebie-jeebies inducing. They have a fair amount of humor in them. They often end in chilling twists (albeit ones an alert reader might be able to spot coming from a few chapters away). And many of them, in the edition I bought, include extras such as brief interviews with the author, fun facts about the featured creatures, related book recommendations and other goofy and educational stuff.

Where I'd usually start a review with the title of the book and then do a synopsis, I don't feel that would do in this case. Instead, I'm going to drop a list of the titles in my boxed set with brief notes about where they stand in series order and what they're about. For me to give away any more would be to spoil too much, I think. Let's just say that, overall, the charm of these books is in their quick-to-read, direct appeal to young readers' imagination, although in large doses the formula starts to get overly repetitive. And boy, oh boy, can you do this series in large doses (see below).

Stay Out of the Basement was the second book in the original "Goosebumps" series. It features a couple of kids whose father, a mad scientist type, has been running creepy experiments in their basement. Overcome by curiosity, the kids violate the rule in the book's title and discover a disturbing hybrid of plant and human, which has sinister ideas of its own.

The Curse of the Mummy's Tomb, book 5, features a couple of Egyptian-American kids who discover a secret chamber in a pyramid that their archaeologist uncle is studying, near Cairo. But the discovery also exposes them to the danger of being turned undead by ancient magic.

Let's Get Invisible, book 6, sees a group of youngsters experimenting with a strange mirror they find in a hidden attic room, that has the power to turn them invisible. However, the longer they stay invisible, the more it seems somebody or something wants them to stay that way.

Night of the Living Dummy, book 7, introduces the flamboyant character of Slappy, who not only plays a key role in the movies based on this series but also stars in quite a few sequels. In his first appearance, he's only one of two ventriloquist dummies that come to life with evil on their minds.

The Ghost Next Door, book 10, involves a girl who suspects that the boy next door may be a ghost – or maybe he's about to become one, unless she can save him.

The Werewolf of Fever Swamp, book 14, features a boy who loves his dog. So, obviously, he doesn't want to believe his dog is dangerous. But something with teeth is definitely leaving well-chewed animal carcasses on the edge of the Florida swamp that runs behind the hero kid's house. Could it be a werewolf?

The Scarecrow Walks at Midnight, book 20, brings a brother and sister to their grandparents' farm, but things are different this summer. The hired man holds a strange power over them, and apparently – thanks to a "book of superstition" that he's been reading, over other things as well.

Revenge of the Lawn Gnomes, book 34, pits three kids and another wrongly-accused dog against a bunch of "mischief gnomes" that pose as innocent lawn ornaments, between increasingly insane pranks.

The Blob that Ate Everyone, book 55, has a main character who aspires to write scary stories (sound like someone you know?). He gets his hand on a typewriter that, apparently, causes anything he types to come true. Unfortunately, he loses his temper and takes out his anger on the town in the form of a story about a giant, people-eating blob – a story with one of the wackiest twist endings ever.

The Haunted Car, book 21 of the spinoff "Goosebumps 2000" series, teaches one 12-year-old boy not to be quite so crazy about cars, when his dad buys a "sports sedan" (truly a master-stroke of fantasy) that practically drives itself. Strike the word "practically." And you know what else? It's evil.

Don't worry about reading these books too close to bedtime. They probably won't send you nightmares. But don't sue me if they do. I suppose it depends on whether their chilling twists, page-turning jump scares and general theme of "nobody believes the kids until it's too late" get under your skin.

R.L. Stine is a New York-based writer who specializes in writing humor and horror for children. Going all the way back to 1985, his titles include two "Hark" books, about 53 "Fear Street" books plus 13 "Fear Street Super Chillers", three "Fear Street Cheerleaders" books, about 20 "Fear Street Saga" stories, 36 "Ghosts of Fear Street" books (many of them with various co-authors), three "99 Fear Street" books, three "Fear Street: Cataluna Chronicles," 12 "Fear Street: Seniors" books, two "Fear Park" books, two "Fear Hall" books, four "New Fear Street" books, three "Fear Street Nights" books, four "Fear Street Relaunch" books, a "Fear Street Super Thriller" trilogy, and the "Return to Fear Street" trilogy. There are a four-part "Babysitter" series, the "Space Cadets" trilogy, 12 "Nightmare Room" books, a further "Nightmare Room Thrillogy," two "Dangerous Girls" books, eight "Mostly Ghostly" books, 16 "Rotten School" books (whose first book sets the tone with the title The Big Blueberry Barf-Off!), eight "Just Beyond" books, three "Garbage Pail Kids" books, and three "Stinetinglers." And then, of course, there are about 62 O.G. "Goosebumps" books, 42 "Give Yourself Goosebumps" titles, 25 "Goosebumps 2000" titles, eight "Give Yourself Goosebumps Special" titles, three "Goosebumps Gold" titles, four "Goosebumps Graphix," 19 "Goosebumps Horrorland" books, six "GB Horrorland House of Horrors" books, 10 "Goosebumps Most Wanted" books plus four "special edition" titles, 19 "Goosebumps SlappyWorld" books, four "Goosebumps House of Shivers" books, and various and sundry accessories to these series, such as story collections, boxed sets and Monster Survival Guide. And also, teen novelizations of the two Goosebumps movies, 2013 and 2018. And almost 45 standalone titles (going by Fantastic Fiction's listing), including a handful of collections and anthologies. I feel it's a bit late in my lifetime to set out on a course of trying to read them all, so expect any further reviews of R.L. Stine's oeuvre when you see them.