A review of Laurell K. Hamilton’s ‘Bloody Bones’ chapter thirty three


I called Special Agent Bradford late in the day. They hadn’t found Xavier. They hadn’t found Jeff. They hadn’t found any vampires that I needed to kill, and why the hell was I calling him? I was not on this case, remember? I remembered. And yes, the two youngest victims had been sexually assaulted, but not the same day they were killed.

Bradford, if Anita is not on the case then why are you giving her confidential information about the case?

Anita thinks about how the rawhead is probably the killer and is glad that she hasn’t told the cops. She’s so amazing.

Besides, explaining that a nursery boggle from Scotland was committing murders on the ethereal plane sounded far-fetched even to me.

If the plot of your book sounds ridiculous to the characters, there’s probably something wrong. And as a minor nitpick, rawheads are a British monster, but they’re more common to Ireland and the north of England, not Scotland. But I guess you just had to shoehorn in Celtic claptrap for your fairies.

It’s the evening, and Anita is stalling on raises bodies for Stirling. She’s looking at the night sky, contemplating shooting him in the head. With each passing chapter, she just reaffirms why she’s such a horrible character and entirely unrelatable on any level. She’s pissed that he keeps asking her to stop using his first name and that he wants her to do the job she was paid for.

Stirling really doesn’t trust Anita and makes it known. This is probably a bad move on his part.

There’s a bunch of goats ready for sacrifice and we are treated to a very long section of The Wisdom and Wit of Anita Blake.

I knelt and opened the gym bag at my feet. It held my animating equipment. I had another one that held vampire gear. I used it to transfer whatever I wanted into the bag. I bought a second bag after I showed up once at a zombie raising with the wrong bag. It was also illegal to carry vampire slaying stuff if you didn’t have a warrant of execution on you. Brewster’s law might change that, but until then… I had two bags. The zombie was my normal burgundy one; the vampire bag was white. Even int he dark, it was easy to tell them apart. That was the plan.

NO ONE GIVES A SHIT ANITA.

NO ONE GIVES A SHIT LKH.

NO ONE GIVES A SHIT ABOUT HOW ANITA USED TO HAVE ONE BAG THEN CHANGED TO TWO. THE ONLY INTERESTING THING IS THAT THE US GOVERNMENT IS CONSIDERING LETTING PEOPLE WALK AROUND WITH CONCEALED WEAPONS. NO ONE GIVES A FLYING FUCK ABOUT HOW ANITA THINKS WHITE SHOWS UP IN THE DARK.

and then i

fucking can’t

lawrence is so FUCKING STUPID it’s like Anita gave him a lobotomy with a handrill

He stared around at the scattered bones. “A mass grave is hard to raise from, right?”

Shit for brains, it’s not a mass grave. It’s a disturbed graveyard. You know this. We’ve been over this.

“This isn’t a mass grave. It’s an old cemetery that was disturbed. That’s easier than a mass grave.”

“Why?” he asked.

I laid the machete down beside the jar of ointment. “Because each grave had rites performed that would tie the dead individual to the grave, so that if you call it you have a better chance of getting an individual to answer.”

“Answer?”

lawrence WENT TO UNIVERSITY. he has a degree in DEALING WITH ZOMBIES. and he literally knows NOTHING AT ALL. HIS BRAIN IS EMPTY. THE CUPBOARD IS BARE. THERE IS NOTHING RATTLING AROUND THE GREAT BIG BALL SUSPENDED BETWEEN HIS EARS.

“Rise from the dead.”

LKH, you are a terrible writer. To make your author avatar so special and clever and brilliant, everyone around her – save her enemies – has to be reduced to drooling idiots. This does not make Anita special and wonderful for knowing so much. It just means that her world cannot be believable. I am incapable of suspending my disbelief and throwing myself into the world you have created when I am dragged out by the mouth open, eyeball blinking, shuffling creatures which are supposed to be supporting characters but are more like the zombies they are supposed to be raising. It makes no sense for Lawrence to know nothing and to be so reliant on Anita’s four years worth of vastly superior knowledge.

And Lawrence has no personality. He’s mini Anita with a dick, let’s face it.

He’s brought a scimitar along to the party, an item which I’m fairly sure is rather illegal to have. Anita bemons that everyone is a ‘prejudiced bastard’ who wouldn’t sell her a cow to be sacrificed. Probably because cows are valuable. Anita and Lawrence quibble about how they’re going to do this, then share powers. Naturally, Lawrence must be informed how to do this.

eat them hal. eat them good.

and

oh christ

i can’t go on

lawrence had to be told how to make the ointments required for zombie raising and which herbs were safe and that shit so they have to use hers for the powersharing she can be the focus.

series in a fucking nutshell right there.

Anita has to be the focus because she’s like the only animator who can be a focus

KILL THEM ALL HAL

PLEASE KILL THEM ALL

if someone were to send me a copy of this book with the rest of it ripped out and just the words ‘and then hal yorke came and killed them all horribly the end’ written on the back cover i would love them forever

I opened the ointment, and the spring air suddenly smelled like Christmas trees. I used a lot of rosemary.

Yes, because …. pine trees smell like rosemary?

Anita and Lawrence rub ointment on each other (it uses the lotion or it gets the hose!) and Anita launches into a long and rambly explanation about her silver equipment that does nothing but just reaffirm my ongoing rage. Anita advises on how best to deal with goats. Anita knows more than professors. Anita is amazing. I get it. Start writing with both hands, LKH.

She then whips out a machete, gets the goat to lean it’s neck out, and proceeds to cut the neck quite delicately. With a machete.

A machete is a cleaver. It was designed to cut through boughs and woody undergrowth. I know – my stepdad uses one on our smallholding. A machete is a thick weighted blade, ideal for cutting through brambles, sugar cane, and low hanging branches.

It could not possibly be used with this dexterity and for a job as dainty as slitting open a goat’s throat to fill a bowl with animal blood. It’d cut the animal’s head off. For this, Anita should probably have a knife used in the preparation of kosher or halal meat. Those are designed specifically with this kind of job in mind.

but she’s Anita Fucking Blake so she gets the huge impressive and impossible to use in this scenario agricultural tool.

Goat blood in the bowl, Lawrence and Anita cut themselves with the machete and it’s all very masturbatory – Anita can feel the power, the power is hers, blah blah blah i do not give a shit.

she can sense rawhead and, to my surprise, Ivy suddenly runs up and smacks Anita in the head.

YES YES A THOUSAND TIMES YES

yeah

you can probably tell i lost it a bit this chapter

in fact, i’ve stopped work on an original short story as of… now. I was writing a sequel to ‘Merykara’ about her progeny, but I am now writing an elseworlds Anita Blake spite fic, featuring her parallel version, Hannah Blake. It will be dedicated to everyone who has every felt personally victimised by LKH.

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4 thoughts on “A review of Laurell K. Hamilton’s ‘Bloody Bones’ chapter thirty three

  1. The “people who should know this shit know nothing and have to have Anita spoon-feed it to them” not only continues, it gets worse. To really absurd points.

    I LOOK FORWARD TO THIS FIC! I have my own spitefic going too, actually! I could link you, but it’s set much further in the series so there will be spoilers.

    • I’ve been reading it already… I’ve been reading your blog when the Anitaness gets too much and I need to read some good quality Anita bashing!

      And I was going to ask if you could link the fic when I post it 🙂

  2. As an academic, I can say with authority that a lot of what universities teach is useless to people who go on to jobs in the field. I assume Lawrence got a education with those more interested in politicizing zombies and vampire issues than actual hard fact.

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