A Wizard's Guide To Defensive Baking

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So needless to say, A Wizard’s Guide to Defensive Baking was full of the wonder and whimsy I was expecting. I also loved, loved, LOVED the focus around magic and baking. I mean, deep down, who wouldn’t want the power to create and animate their own gingerbread man army? And of course, Mona is the perfect heroine to lead the way. In many respects, this was a tale of growing up and self-discovery—granted, not uncommon themes when it comes to books for this age group. if things go wrong in a siege you’ll all die horribly, and in formal weddings the stakes are much higher. T. Kingfisher is the vaguely absurd pen-name of Ursula Vernon. In another life, she writes children's books and weird comics, and has won the Hugo, Sequoyah, and Ursa Major awards, as well as a half-dozen Junior Library Guild selections. Mona’s wry and often disgusted commentary on what’s happening around her and just how far the situation has been left to go awry reads like both Sixteen Ways and the Discworld. Mona sees that things are going wrong, and comments about it to herself. A lot. There may be a certain amount of gallows in her humor, but then the situation does require it.

I don’t even care about pastries, but think I may sell my soul for a freshly baked sweet bun right now. Just as interesting as her allies what with their reanimated horse corpses and stuff (those minor magic folk certainly had highly unusual talents). Muhahahahahahaha. It's a decent Kingfisher, which means the characterization feels solid. There's a few standard characters rolled in (pushy, loving aunt, a thief) as well as some intriguing ones (the uncle, the horse witch). It's ethics and world-building are probably geared a little simply compared to some of her other works, which may be why it feels a little younger. Still, it's a Kingfisher, and the writing is occasionally quite perfect. Her talent is in convincing dough that it wants to do what SHE wants it to do, so it rises properly and it doesn’t burn. And she can make gingerbread men dance – even if she can’t control what kind of dance they do. Mona’s power has definite limits that she has to work within to make it work at all. I love that we grapple with the injustice of powerless groups having to be the ones who have to fix the mistakes of the empowered.Suffice to say that it was utterly charming, perfectly plotted, and ageless -- I think anyone from 9 through adulthood could enjoy this. I’ve seen other reviewers complain that Mona is too passive and quiet, but I found her to be very resourceful, and I greatly enjoyed her voice and outlook. Thirdly, as a female protagonist, Mona avoids several other clichés besides that of the badass action hero. There is no romance, for one thing, since her closest male ally is a boy from the streets who becomes a surrogate younger brother. She has a healthy attitude toward her own body, meaning she can appreciate her strong arms and enjoy her pastries without worrying about how she looks. There are no instances of putting other women down to make the heroine look better. Mona has a loving and respectful relationship with the aunt who taught her to bake, and later in the novel, a female ruler is portrayed as flawed but still competent.

I fully admit that I bought this one for the title. Not that the stabbity-stabbity gingerbread man on the cover isn’t adorable, but it was definitely the title that got me. And I Currently in Riverbraid, wizards are missing or becoming dead. There's a powerful assassin that's killing wizards and the magical community is leaving the city or going into hiding.Let’s see, what else? The story is abominably fluffy at times, but it is quite marvellously darkly dark for the most part. And what do we say to that? Why, YUM, of course. The villains are magnificently villainous, too. So YUM again. Talking about appetizing stuff, second-hand breakfasts are regularly on the menu in this book. (And no, you don’t want to know that they’re made of.) There are also super savory and most delectable garderobe expeditions. (No, you don’t want to know about these either.) That’s it for the appetite-stimulating side of this story, I think. Unless you consider people who “ look like the ass end of a seagull” as being particularly mouthwatering, that is. One day, while 14-year-old wizard Mona is working in her aunt Tabatha's bakery, she finds a dead girl on the kitchen floor. But that is just the start of her troubles because there is a killer in the city and this assassin seems to be targeting magicas - minor ones like Mona. So the holy water creating zombie frogs really is the least of her problems. It felt like Sixteen Ways to Defend a Walled City because to a certain extent Mona and Orhan are in the same position. Their city has been betrayed from within – although not for the same reasons. Both of them are woefully underqualified for the role of city savior. Orhan because he’s a despised non-native of the city and Mona because she’s a despised – or at least feared – magic user. And she’s only 14.