The Lion of Farside by John Dalmas

Mr Upstream does indeed like genre fiction, but in this case he is willing to make an exception.

John Dalmas can write. His characters are well thought out, and honestly portrayed. He can write an action scene that is at once believable and exciting. He excels in dialog and description. Why then is 'The Lion of Farside' such an appallingly bad book? Mr Upstream has been trying to figure that out for weeks.

It's a bit of a case of Frankenstein's monster. You can chop up athletes and movie stars and models, harvest their perfect limbs and organs and stitch them together with the greatest of care, but at the end of the day, you still get a lumpy, mismatched monster that people call an 'abomination'. Mr Upstream should know. Boy, howdy.

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John Dalmas
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Aunt Erma's Cope Book by Erma Bombeck

I remember when I was younger (ok, when I was in my 30's, and still living with my mother) Mom used to laugh and laugh whenver she read an Erma Bombeck book, or saw Erma on a talk show. I remember thinking 'what the hell is she laughing about? Is her extreme corniness a latent DNA trait that will show up when I'm an old coot?'

The other day I was at the flea market and saw 'Aunt Erma's Cope Book' and I just had to find out if time had warped me sufficiently to enjoy Erma Bombeck. According to the back cover, 'Cope Book' spent 7 months onthe New York Times Best Seller List. Maybe it's my sense of humor that's off, I thought.

I think it was passages like this that vaulted Aunt Erma to best sellerdom:

The T-shirt craze had clearly gotten out of hand. In one day alone I encountered three propositions, four declarations, two obscene suggestions and a word so bad I stopped the car and threw a blanket over the girl's chest.

Mother was with me one day when I stopped for a traffic light and a healthy blond with jeans so tight herhipbones lookedlike towel hooks crossed in front of the car. Tucked inside was a T-shirt that read in large, bold letters SPACE FOR RENT. We didn't say anything for a full minute. then Mother observed, "You can say what you want, but she certainly is well read."

[Please note that Mr Upstream spent a full hour and a half typing that passage in, as he was laughing so hard he had spasms] Oh, the things that Mr Upstream does for you.

Final verdict: One needs to be post-menopausal and stuck in 1979 to enjoy Aunt Erma. That gap between her front teeth is still adorable though.

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How Opal Mehta Got Kissed, Got Wild, and Got a Life by Kaavya Viswanathan, Megan McCafferty, Meg Cabot, and Sophie Kinsella

Did these idiot publishers really expect a 17-year-old to be able to write a sustained, meaningful (and Mr Upstream uses that term in a very loose sense--we aren't talking about Shakespeare, here) novel? They never bothered to read other successful examples of the genre? Did this girl not have an editor?

"Well, she goes to Harvard, so she must have a brain and the integrity not to plagiarize (several) other authors, right? let's give her a two-book deal, shall we?"

Morons.

Mr Upstream doesn't blame Kaavya. If Mr Upstream had managed to hoodwink Little, Brown & Co. at the age of 17, Mr Upstream surely would have. No, Mr Upstream blames the hack editors who should have been going over her work with a fine-toothed comb before it ever went to the printer.

Mr Upstream also thinks Kaavya is kinda cute in a jailbait, snooty Harvard plagiarist bad girl kinda way...

The DaVinci Code by Dan Brown, Dan Brown's Wife, and some other crazies who won't see a penny

You've already read the book. Now let Mr Upstream tell you what you should think, as you obviously haven't got a clue judging by Dan Brown's bank account:

It's shite.

Mr Upstream couldn't care less about whether people think the Catholic church has been covering up some ultra-super-dooper-secret about the J-man and his followers. Mr Upstream was morally, spiritually and ethically offended by the cardboard characters, the grinding plot and the thoroughly wooden dialogue.

Repeat after me: This book sucks, and having Tom Hanks in the movie won't change that. Dan Brown should be flogged as poetic justice for what he does to words.

Please note:

Mr Upstream doesn't give a rat's ass whether you agree with him or not. No, really.

Welcome!

Welcome to the Upstream Independent Fiction Review, where Mr Upstream reviews fiction. Independently. Sit back, relax, and let Mr Upstream separate the crap from the readable, so you don't have to!