Russian winters, vampires, and you

As I mentioned last week, now that I'm at a lull in my writing/editing process, I've been devouring books like they're going out of style. (Let us not speak of the whole e-reader trend, I meant that only as a turn of phrase.) Figuring out which books resonate with me -- or even which parts of each book resonate -- provides an illuminating insight into the writing process. 

*Fair warning: Spoilers ahead, mild and major.*

First, let's talk about Twelve by Jasper Kent. This book has a phenomenal premise: during the disastrous Napoleonic invasion of Russia, Russian special ops soldier Alexei finds himself working alongside extraordinarily sinister foreign mercenaries. Unfortunately, the back copy on the book gives away the supernatural twist: the mercenaries are vampires. Napoleonic wars and vampires - yes, please! Kent unveils another twist in the last few chapters of the novel (which I won't spoil for you); I didn't see it coming, and it left me thinking about the novel for a few days afterward...the mark of a good twist.

Premise - excellent. Plot twists - intriguing. Good start.

The prose was serviceable, and the first-person narrator, Alexei, interesting enough. I was shocked at the number of grammatical errors and typos in the book, however. For instance, a primary character's name was misspelled on the last page of the novel. If the book was self-published, I could overlook a few typos, but this was put out by Pyr, a legit publishing house. Those errors jarred me straight out of the story every time.

My other complaint is the emotional hinge of the last few chapters. Kent excellently portrays the brotherly bond of the non-vampire soldiers; their camaraderie is compelling, their betrayals and deaths wrenching. If the last few chapters relied on this for its emotional punch, I would have little complaint. Instead, the last few chapters hinge on married Alexei's affair with a prostitute, her fidelity(!), and whether he'll keep his mistress long-term.

While I won't tolerate extra-marital dalliances in real life, I might indulge the behavior by a protagonist because the very act of reading means I'm already suspending my disbelief and stepping into the narrator's point of view. But I admit, the author is working uphill from the get-go to make me empathize with the protagonist's affair. Unfortunately, Alexei's prostitute is one-dimensional and their relationship isn't compelling. Even the setup for the affair lacks emotional resonance - Alexei's wife is a pleasant woman, he loves his son dearly, and when he's not on the battlefield, his home life is happy. I simply didn't care whether Alexei's prostitute was faithful or whether he continued the relationship.

What does all this mean in terms of craft? First, proofread. Then proofread again. Make sure your editor proofreads. And proofread once more.

Second, framing the emotional crux of the book is critical. If the affair had been effectively framed, I would've felt an iota of empathy for Alexei's infidelity and the end of the book would have delivered emotional impact. Or, if the book hinged on the brotherly camaraderie of the soldiers, I would've been invested in the events of the last few chapters. As it was, I shrugged and put the book down with an, "Eh."

Up next: The Strange Affair of Spring-Heeled Jack by Mark Hodder. Steampunk and dashing explorers and historical reboots, oh my!