Let's have a war between primordial forces! We can have it in...New Jersey!

This is essentially Douglas Adams meets Kevin Smith (of "Clerks" infamy), as lackadaisical magic user and all-round smuck "Monster" Dionysius goes on a call to contain a yeti (the hours suck but the pay is decent) and finds himself running interference for Judy, who is the chosen catalyst to save the universe; assuming her magic-challenged brain can retain the information. Thus ensues much chaos for our hero and heroine, as they struggle to figure out just what the hell they're supposed to do in the face of passive/aggressive menace.

Call it cheap thrills for the brain. ( )

Loved the concept, loved the characters...it was great until it got to the villain and the main plotline. Then it just fell apart. Loved Monster and Judy though, great idea, poor execution. ( )

Judy’s life is a mess. Nothing has ever gone right for her. One night while working at a local supermarket she spies a yeti eating all the ice cream in the freezer section. The only thing she can think to do is call Animal Control. Her call is transferred to Cryptobiological Containment and Rescue Services who send out Monster; a freelance crypto catcher. After one yeti is caught two more appear. In the days after, Monster receives more crypto calls all revolving around Judy. She seems to be a magnet to magical creatures. The worst part is that she can’t remember the incidents. Then the mythological beasts start disturbing Monster’s life. If he wants things to get back to normal, he needs to figure out Judy’s link to the crypto activity.

This is a much more mature novel than the other ones I have read by Martinez. The human characters are very human; they smoke, drink beer and have sex. They have adult problems that are magnified by the magical ones. It’s an adult world with fantasy elements.

Like all of Martinez’s novels, this is a fun quick read. He throws in all kinds of mythical creatures as well as philosophy about the meaning of the universe. The action starts from the first chapter and lasts till the very end. ( )

Imagine working at the local supermarket. The blindingly bright bank of florescent lights humming above, soothingly, almost loud enough to hide the languid buzzing, the death-throes, of a fly that’s gotten into the deli case. Again. Big tricked-out nametag and kangaroo pouch apron ensemble—in a putrid brown—identifies you. Defines you, screaming—Grocery Professional. Cart-pushing rabble littering the store flock to you, surround you, eager and hopeful. Like sailors lured by a siren’s call. Looking for answers. Important answers. Like where the Macaroni and Cheese is. Or the Bagel Bites.

Quiet moments are filled with stocking shelves, opening boxes of sugary merchandise, and mopping up some four-year old’s Jackson Pollock inspired Otter Pop art on Aisle Three. Or the ultimate respite—restocking ice cream. An opportunity—a glorious opportunity—to leave the sales floor, to leave behind the maddening crowds. To go to the holiest of holies, the store sanctuary, the stockroom. Where a huge walk-in freezer resides, the home of half-gallons, the land of ice cream, Popsicles and Klondikes.

You open the freezer door. Only to discover a Yeti devouring the Rocky Road; the freezer floor littered with shredded ice cream containers, Ben & Jerry-themed confetti everywhere, Cherry Garcia stalactites protruding from the ceiling. You close the freezer door quickly, securing it.

Now what?

Call for help? Maybe dial 911? Tell them there’s a Yeti in the ice cream freezer. Sure. They’ll believe that. A response team will be there—half past never. So who’s going to believe you? Who are you gonna call?

No. Not Ghostbusters. It’s a Yeti, not Slimer.

Monster. That’s who.

Trolls living in your closet, doing unspeakable things to your shoes? Call Monster. Gaborchends eating all the furnishings in your apartment, your favorite loveseat reduced to a plaid-and-woodsy smelling belch? Call Monster. Crazy old lady living next door, her house crawling with hundreds of cats? Odd. Better call Monster. Yeti in an ice cream freezer, slurping down the Rocky Road? Yep—you guessed it—for all your pest control needs: call Monster.

He’s Animal Control Services. Except for Yetis and other magical beasties. A trained specialist in cryptobiological containment and rescue. He’ll get the job done. Most of the time.

And sometimes without injuries.

“Monster”, the new novel by A. Lee Martinez, takes this humorous setup, and embraces it. With a lustful gusto. Like a prisoner greeting his wife on a conjugal visit. It’s a wonderful three-hundred page running joke, the rare one that sustains itself to the end. Never losing its steam, never losing its humor. Never losing its passion. It’s infectious energy, pure, vibrating with life; a leather-bound good mood. Try not to smile while reading “Monster.” I dare you. I double-dog dare you.

Most of the novel’s magic arises from its characters. They’re society’s underdogs, the downtrodden, the little guys, seemingly nothing special. Life’s a constant struggle for them, just to survive; forget about getting ahead. Yet they still fight, with all their heart. And with great humor. So to watch them succeed, to discover themselves, to finally realize—“Hey, I’m special, too.”—is gratifying, even exhilarating. And better yet—funny as hell. An intoxicating mixture of funny with feel-good, Monty Python meets the American Dream, Horatio Alger with a whoopee cushion.

Monster’s sidekick—and informational repository for all things magic—Chester, in particular, is brilliant. Chester’s an interdimensional being; a six dimensional non-physical entity inhabiting a crafted paper body. A paper gnome able to refold himself into various shapes, self-motivated College Ruled. A paper Transformer, a car one moment, a hummingbird the next. Just don’t warm him by the fire. He’s origami with attitude. And I wanted more.

Last Word:
Being funny’s really hard. Like finding-pleasant-weather-in-Wisconsin hard. Many try. Few succeed. A. Lee Martinez, though, succeeds. Wildly. “Monster” is a triple espresso for the funny bone, brewed by a crazed, wild-eyed barista infatuated with Ghostbusters. A huge jolt of energy, minus the caffeine. It’s infectious, and incredibly fun. Like giggling with your best friend all night long. It’s a smile supernova.

Because your face is certain to explode into a grin. ( )

Martinez really wowed me with Gil's All-Fright Diner, a comedy-fantasy novel about a redneck vampire and werewolf saving a diner from zombies and the world from destruction. So when I saw Monster, I immediately *had* to grab it. This time around, Martinez has a Cryptobiologic Containment and Rescue agent (a division of your local Animal Control Office!) taking care of the yeti eating all the ice cream at the local Food Mart and, um, saving the world from destruction.

Mind you, I thought Monster was funny, and an entertaining diversion. But yeah, it felt pretty familiar given his previous work. His imagining of the workings of our world behind the scenes was quite good, especially how Monster, our hero, deals with all the monsters. The characters and plot? Not bad, but not stellar.

My final answer? It's a flawed but entertaining diversion. For a better riff on a similar theme, try Gil's All-Fright Diner. ( )