#REVIEW: DEVIL’S GUN, by Cat Rambo

I don’t know how to talk about this book.

Okay, that’s not true. I really liked it and all of you should read it. I really liked it and … most of you should read it. Some of you should read it! All of you who have read You Sexy Thing, the original book in this series, should read it, and those of you who have not read You Sexy Thing should go read that and then read this in its proper context in the second book of what is going to be at least a trilogy. I have no idea what Cat Rambo’s contract for this series is; all I know is that as long as they keep writing these books I’m going to keep reading them.

I read speculative fiction, so I am well used to devouring books in trilogies if not longer series than that. And a trilogy in particular has a certain rhythm to it, and what that means is that the second book in a trilogy can be really hard to write in such a way that it doesn’t feel like moving pieces around on a board in preparation for book three, which will actually solve things. And the biggest weakness of Devil’s Gun is that it’s one of the most second-booky second books I’ve ever read.

What’s that mean? Well, most of the characters– the strong point of the series, about a ship’s crew that moonlights as the staff of an elite sci-fi restaurant, or maybe about the staff of an elite sci-fi restaurant that moonlights as a ship’s crew, it’s hard to say– are dealing with various and sundry traumas and/or life changes from Book One. Very few of these traumas are resolved in any meaningful way, although a couple of them definitely see very serious evolution over the course of this book. The titular “Devil’s Gun” is a MacGuffin that the crew is looking for so that they can eliminate the big villain of the first book, who is after them again. The big villain who never once appears on page in the entirety of Devil’s Gun. Not a single scene. They never see him. The whole book is relying on your memory of Tubal Last being terrifying in the first book.

Well, okay, and also on this one thing he did that was really bad, and which reverberates through the entirety of Gun, but he does that thing in You Sexy Thing.

In a way, all of this isn’t really a problem, because no one is going to pick up Devil’s Gun on its own, or at least if they do they’ll recognize that they screwed up. And to a certain extent it feels really ridiculous for me of all people to be criticizing book-two-of-a-trilogy for being, well, book two of a trilogy. But this one doesn’t stand up on its own at all, to the point where it’s notable. I mean, important stuff happens, it’s not like, oh, Book 2 of The Wheel of Time, which could be reduced to a single-page prologue of Book 3 without eliminating anything significant. It’s not filler. It’s just not a complete story on its own. And your ability to enjoy it will depend entirely on your ability to ignore that fact.

Beyond that, though, I genuinely do love this series– it was originally described as “Farscape meets The Great British Baking Show,” and bam, the second I heard that, I spent money. And I should probably have said this in the first paragraph, but I got this for free again, meaning that I’ve gotten both books in this series mailed to me early and then went out and bought both of them anyway. There’s still a sexy bird-creature and one character who is a sentient blob and another who’s an ape and the first mate/head chef is seven feet tall and has four arms and this was probably unfair of me but I spent most of the book picturing one of the characters as Lion-O. I can read about these people forever; they’re awesome. You should read about them too; just make absolutely sure you do it in order.

You can tell I’m alive from the whining

I am, with one more day of forced quarantine before finally being allowed to go back to work, at 95% healthy 95% of the time, and I mean that math fairly precisely, because literally for about three minutes out of every hour I will have a quick coughing fit because of a dry spot in the back of my throat or (this happened yesterday, and it was fun) convince myself I can’t swallow for a minute or some other bit of nonsense, but most of the time I am completely fine. I feel like I’ve been sick; I no longer feel like I am sick. My son, unfortunately, tested positive too, but I’m convinced that he got it through some other pathway than from me, because he has a completely different set of symptoms. Mine is nearly all a head cold, despite those previous complaints; his is in his lungs and throat, and he’s got a really mild case, to the point where I think if we hadn’t tested him he wouldn’t even be missing school.

Oh, and my sense of taste and smell has gone wonky against that’s par for the course with Covid at this point.

So the good thing about being home from work– and this is where the real whining is going to begin, so brace yourself– is that I’ve had tons of time to play video games in between monitoring my email for replies from students and staring off into space. The problem is that every fucking game in the universe came out in the last two weeks, and I cannot decide what the fuck I want to actually play. Just in the last couple of weeks, Armored Core VI, Blasphemous II, Starfield, and Baldur’s Gate III came out. Sometime next week I get Lies of P. I haven’t even downloaded Blasphemous yet. Starfield and Baldur’s Gate III are both hundred-hour-plus games. I enjoyed having a YouTube channel, but I shut it down precisely because of shit like this; I’d be going absolutely batshit trying to come up with episodic content worth watching right now.

Anyway, I spent yesterday playing BGIII and today playing Starfield and the idea I had was I was going to pick one and stick to it, then go back to the other later … only right now I think when I finish this I’m going to play Armored Core, which … wasn’t the plan. I’m not good at bouncing back and forth between games so this is maybe weirder for me than it sounds, and I’m annoyed that out of all this shit nothing has jumped out and made the choice obvious yet. Like, I’m mad at myself that none of these games have grabbed me by the beard and demanded my attention yet. None of them are bad, they’re just not doing it for me right now for some damn reason.

Point is: blech.

I’m going to get to that book review tomorrow, I swear.

God fucking damn it

In accordance with prophecy

I should actually do this: I should go back through the literal decade of my life that this site encompasses and check the last week of August and the first week of September for every year to see how often I mention being sick. Because holy hell have I been sick for the last couple of days, and I’m still sick today, and I fully expect to be sick tomorrow, and I’m already thinking I’m probably taking Tuesday off so that I can get the shit done that I already know I won’t be doing tomorrow. I didn’t post yesterday because I was asleep. Basically for the whole damn day. Then when nighttime rolled around and I tried to go to sleep sleep, I had weird hallucinatory dreams all night, including one where I got Superman’s powers and immediately flew off to Burning Man so that I could find a certain billionaire asshole who was rumored to be there and drown him in the mud.

I feel like, while not entirely unreasonable, that’s probably not a mentally healthy thing to be dreaming about, right?

Anyway, I owe you a review of Cat Rambo’s Devil’s Gun, which

holy shit, there’s a hummingbird outside my window, just a minute

Damn! He got away before I could get a picture. My wife claims to see them fairly regularly around here, but me spotting them is a damned rare situation, especially on this side of the house. I suppose this big bush/tree thing outside my window does have some berries on it but I wouldn’t think of it as hummingbird fodder, generally. Maybe I should start watching more closely, or put a feeder out there.

Anyway, I got sent a free copy of Devil’s Gun, and so I feel like it deserves a review, and I’m not quite in the right headspace to write it right now, so … eagerly anticipate that, I guess. I’m currently reading T.J. Klune’s Wolfsong and it has already broken my heart six times so you have that to look forward to as well.

And now back to bed; I was breathing okay a couple of hours ago but I am very definitely not breathing okay right now, so being a bit more horizontal seems like a good thing.

Monthly Reads: August 2023

Book of the Month is Holy fuck, am I tired by—

Wait. No.

Legends & Lattes. It’s Legends & Lattes.