The Griffin or the Agate

    So, how does he do it? How does Jim Butcher keep topping himself? The basic story formula for Dead Beat is pretty much the same as that of the other books of the series:
    Harry Dresden, Chicago's only Wizard for hire, is going to be put into a difficult position, either morally or mortally. Probably both. Then it's going to happen again, from a different angle. Then maybe once more. Possibly twice. He's going to be left facing seemingly unsurmountable odds. He's going to get his ass severely kicked, at least once. His friends are going to ignore his objections and stand by his side. Harry is going to scare some, awe others, and come up big at the finish line. Oh yeah, he's going to be sarcastic for the duration, too.
    In Dead Beat Butcher stays true to the form, although he's not above throwing in a few wrinkles. One of the major supporting characters is given the book off. Mouse, the cute little puppy from Blood Rites, plays a much (ahem) larger role. Still, all the familiar elements are in attendance. So, as posed before, how does Butcher keep outdoing himself?
    Well, the simple answer is that he's a superb writer who just keeps getting better and better. The why is a little more complex. As before, Butcher refuses to let Dresden remain static. He's constantly in a state of flux, of development, of discovery about himself. Not only does Dead Beat open with Harry coping with the non-perfect roommate of Thomas, his vampire half-brother, but also being forced to examine his feelings for his comrade in arms Karrin Murphy, who's heading out of town for a vacation. With someone else. A male someone else. His old foe Mavra, a powerful vampire he'd thought he'd destroyed, smacks him with some serious blackmail. Major-league wizards are in town, looking for trouble. His own guild, embroiled in a war, doesn't even have the time to give him his usual harassment. The voice in his head might be a little more than just his conscience.
    Oh, and he's broke. And lonely. And more than a little horny.
    Through it all, Butcher does what he does best – he let's Harry be Harry. He's not perfect. He makes mistakes, he second guesses himself, he's open to temptation. In pressure situations he doesn't become some spell slinging robot. He's always Harry, always aware of the consequences of his actions, always conscious of the gifts he's been blessed with and the responsibilities that come with them. Dresden is a deeply written, well-developed character, and one has to marvel at Butcher's long-term planning with the series as he effortlessly elevates supporting cast from minor to major roles and brings back old foes with no warning (although, I have to ask, because either I've missed it or it has slipped through the cracks – whatever happened to Shiro's sword? Last time I remember hearing about it, it was on his mantle. Just wondering).
    There's really nothing to quibble about with Dead Beat. It's an adroit mix of action and introspection, of horror and humor(Harry, when helpless and asked by a truly twisted villain if he's afraid, retorts, “You're about the fifth-scariest person I've met today . . . Don't knock it, that's really better than it sounds.”), of hope, heartbreak, redemption, and new beginnings. Butcher doesn't fail to surprise, amuse, or impress, and Dead Beat is yet another strong entry in his incredibly strong series. It should get serious consideration for fantasy book of the year. I know there's such a thing, even if I'm not quite sure whom to talk to about it. Doesn't matter. Go read this series. Now.   §

Purchase this title through:
   Amazon.com