queenbookwench | Reading

Gakked from

rmc28:

The Last...
Movie I watched: Project Hail Mary, in cinemas with a couple of friends. It was very enjoyable.
Series I finished: Honestly? Probably Bridgerton, back in 2024. I haven't watched any TV series since. Just can't concentrate enough to watch something through. I started Bridgerton S4 with the sistren on Monday night, we're going to work out way through the series, a couple of episodes at a time.
Book I finished: Undercover Attraction by Katee Robert. Part of the O'Malley sextet - a Boston crime family. Rather interestingly, the male MC of the second book in the series was quite clearly modelled off Charlie Hunnam in Sons of Anarchy.
Book I bought: Archangel's Sun by Nalini Singh - I'm buying the Guild Hunter series in hardcopy, after receiving the first six books as a gift about a decade ago.
Book I received as a gift: ...something about work. It's to do with work and faith and the intersection of them and was given to me by a friend to whom I sold a couple of quilts.
Food I ate: Trout fillets. Bought by B1 and fried to perfection for dinner.
Meal I cooked: Hainanese chicken rice, recipe by Nagi of RecipeTinEats. Really good!
Drink I had: Fermented limeade - home-made lime soda, which I left on the dining table for a few days too long and now it's slightly alcoholic.
Song I listened to: Trustfall by P!nk.
Album I listened to: Probably 'Anjunadeep16'. I love deepbeat dance-trance music for focusing on work.
Playlist I listened to: Belt It - my 'singing in the car' playlist. Turn the volume up, and belt it!
Concert I went to: The Music Of John Williams II with the Sydney Symphony Orchestra - a couple of months ago.
Game I played: Civ II. Was just playing it now when I decided I'd check DW.
Person I talked to: B1 - sister.
Person I texted: Sue - a friend who I arranged to pick up some gardening stuff with this evening.

selenak

Blessed be! The Aunt Lydia narrated episode has arrived!

( Spoilers don’t know whether they’re a phoenix or a cockroach… )

Current Mood: enthralled
Current Location: on the train

musesfool

Today's poem:

Bright Wings

I was walking in the garden looking for the intermediaries
between me and the clear light. I had left the hose running
much too long. Something was eating holes in the ear-soft
leaves of the morning glories. I saw for the first time
that the neighbor was growing corn - the yellow shocks
were leaning just above the cinder-block fence, and they
looked delicate and scruffy, like city corn, like alien corn,
and suddenly there was so much to be done, so much to
put in order, not the ordinary business of loving and dying,
but the ordinary business that comes bundled with them:
Sunlight behaved perfectly in every corner, the shadows breathed
in their one direction and told stories, our cat crouched in the flower bed
aching to kill something: How do you explain being so convinced,
so utterly taken by the idea that beauty is somehow moral?
I mean in this day and age? I mean now when no one can even get
that equation to hold up? But the ants have formed a black
ribbon that leads to a dead snail. But the Pipers and Cessnas
and Beechcraft are circling and banking for the airport with
so much color and precision. But the dogs two houses down
have heard the mail-carrier's foot, and they have erupted.
This is not the argument I'm looking for. And I have been lazy.
Tangerines and lemons have swollen and dropped from their
impatient branches. They lie among the fern and the vine, bruised
and mushy. They are being swarmed. They are being devoured.

--Frank X. Gaspar

***

Current Mood: okay
Current Music: Canadiens vs Lightning on tv

rachelmanija

I'm still going through books and discarding ones that don't grab me after a chapter or so. (Lots grab me within one paragraph).

Stir it Up! Ramin Ganeshram

A Trinidadian-American girl wants to be a celebrity chef. It begins with a recipe for "two cups of love, a pinch of sharing," etc. BARF.

Before the Fall, by Noah Hawley

Hawley is a TV writer/creator who did a show I loved (Legion) and a show I liked (Fargo). The premise of this book - a man who, along with the young boy he saves, is the sole survivor of a plane wreck and starts investigating the victims to find out if it wasn't an accident - really appeals to me. Unfortunately, it's written in a style I can only describe as "Middle-aged white dude writes New Yorker fiction." Not for me.

Guns in the Heather, by Lockhart Amerman

In a fast-moving tale of international espionage, Jonathan Flower is lured by a false telegram from the school he is attending in Edinburgh. With his father, he is involved in a grim hunt in which they are stalked by a ruthless band of foreign agents.

The plot sounded fun but was actually kind of tedious. The best part was the author amusing himself with the dialogue. I am recording some for posterity:

Tommy is a fat, jolly sort of character who likes to talk jive with a Glasgow accent. This is purely so he can say stuff like "We dig it, mon, but good."

Her voice and her person both reminded me of the Scots adjective "soncy." This is purely so she can say stuff like "There's a bit sandwich forby - under yon cover."

"Wullie's awee the dee?" (His accent was what we call in school "pure Morningsayde.")

"We're teddibly soddy, of course. It's so fearfully dismal to be doodly with a gun."

My new band name is Doodly With A Gun.

tielan

A junior someone is having more or less a tantrum before they get into their parents car at pickup this afternoon. I have the window open and there's no avoiding the sound of someone small and grumpy.

--

Tired today, and my mouth feels vaguely furry.

--

( hockey 2026 )

--

I got the flu vax last Friday. Will go back and get the most recent COVID one maybe next Friday.

--

Phew, really tired. Might go have a lie-down before bible study group.

musesfool

Today's poem:

For everyone who tried on the slipper before Cinderella

after Anis Mojgani and Audre Lorde

For those making tea in the soft light of Saturday morning
in the peaceful kitchen
in the cool house
For those with shrunken hearts still trying to love
For those with large hearts trying to forget
For those with terrors they cannot name
upset stomachs and too tight pants
For those who get cut off in traffic
For those who spend all day making an elaborate meal
that turns out mediocre
For those who could not leave
even when they knew they had to
For those who never win the lottery
or become famous
For those getting groceries on Friday nights

There is something you know
about living
that you guard with your life
your one fragile, wonderful life
wonder, as in, awe,
as in, I had no idea I would be here now.

For those who make plans and those who don’t
For those driving across the country to a highway that knows them
For the routes we take in the dark, trusting
For the roads for the woods for the dead humming in prayer
For an old record and a strong sun
For teeth bared to the wind
a pulse in the chest
a body making love to itself

There is every reason to hate it here
There is a list of things making it bearable:
your friend’s shoulder Texas barbecue a new book
a loud song a strong song a highway that knows you
sweet tea an orange cat a helping hand
an unforgettable dinner

a laugh that escapes you and deflates you
like a pink balloon left soft with room
for goodness to take hold

For those who have looked in the mirror and begged
For those with weak knees and an attitude
For those called "sensitive" or "too much"
For those not called enough
For the times you needed and went without
For the photo of you as a child
quietly icing cupcakes your hair a crackling thunderstorm

Love is coming.
It's on its way.
Look—

--Ariana Brown

*

Current Mood: contemplative

rachelmanija

This was Robinson's first novel, one of a set of three set in future Orange County, Californias, exploring three different futures for America. The second one is about a future much like the present day, hyper-capitalist and dystopian. The third is set in an ecotopia which apparently involves lots of softball. (I've only read The Wild Shore, and gleaned this information from reviews of the others.) After reading The Ministry of the Future, I thought I'd give Robinson another try, and this book sounded most relevant to my personal interests. (I've attempted Years of Rice and Salt multiple times and never gotten very far in. It sounds so interesting!)

The Wild Shore is set about sixty years after the US was shattered by multiple neutron bombs, then quarantined by the rest of the world. It's now a bunch of extremely small, struggling towns which are kept separated from each other as the rest of the world uses satellite imagery to bomb them any time they attempt to do something like build railroad tracks. The California coast is patrolled by Japanese vessels who prevent them from sailing too far out. No one in the book has any idea who bombed the US or why, but given the quarantine I assume the US started the war and someone else finished it.

The book is narrated by Henry, who is 17 and lives in a village of 60. He hangs out with a bunch of mostly-indistinguishable other teenage boys. (I spent three-quarters of the book thinking Steve and Nicolin were two different boys. They are not. I wish writers wouldn't randomly call characters by their first or last name.) They fish and farm and trade with scavengers. Henry is the prize student of Tom, one of four elders who recall the pre-catastrophe days. It is immediately obvious that Tom's teachings are a mix of real and complete bullshit, but as the younger generation has no context or means of fact-checking, they tend to think it's either all true or all bullshit.

The village gets contacted by the remnants of San Diego, which wants to build a rail line and fight back against the quarantine. Henry gets sucked into this, with disastrous results.

This book is SLOW. I often like books that are mostly about daily life, but Henry's daily life was not that interesting - he spends a lot of time hanging out with boys and talking and thinking about girls and daddy issues, and you can get that in any contemporary novel about teenage boys. The only real character is Tom - everyone else is lightly sketched in at best. Girls and women are only present as girlfriends, potential girlfriends, and moms. (There's one girl who's the leader of the farmers, who are mostly women - the men are mostly fishers - but she doesn't get much to do.) The book was just barely interesting enough that I finished it, but it didn't end anywhere more interesting than the rest of it.

( Read more... )

Content note: Characters use racial slurs for Japanese people.

lettersmod posting in

yuletide

unsent_letters_exchange is an exchange for in-universe correspondence! We have some post-deadline pinch hits.

Requirements: 1000 words of fic, of which at least 500 words should be in a requested epistolary format
Due date: May 1st, 11:59PM UTC

Requirements: 1000 words of fic, at least 500 of which must be in a requested epistolary format.

PH 1 - Yu-Gi-Oh! 5D's x2, Yu-Gi-Oh! GX, Metal Fight Beyblade | Beyblade Metal Saga, ベイブレードバースト | Beyblade Burst (Anime), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Anime 1997-2023), ジョジョの奇妙な冒険 | JoJo no Kimyou na Bouken | JoJo's Bizarre Adventure

PH 2 - Minecraft: Story Mode (Video Game) x2, The Protomen x2, Bionicle (Generation 1) x2

PH 8 - Dune (Movies - Villeneuve), Stormlight Archive - Brandon Sanderson, The Worst Journey in the World - Apsley Cherry-Garrard

PH 17 - Thoroughbreds (2017), Succession (TV 2018), The Secret History - Donna Tartt

PH 18 - Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2003), Crossover Fandom, Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Cartoon 2018), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012), TMNT (2007)

For more details, or to claim: https://unsent-letters-exchange.dreamwidth.org/27840.html

Thank you for your consideration!

musesfool

Today's poem:

And Then It Was Less Bleak Because We Said So
by Wendy Xu

Today there has been so much talk of things exploding
into other things, so much that we all become curious, that we
all run outside into the hot streets
and hug. Romance is a grotto of eager stones
anticipating light, or a girl whose teeth
you can always see. With more sparkle and pop
is the only way to live. Your confetti tongue explodes
into acid jazz. Small typewriters
that other people keep in their eyes
click away at all our farewell parties. It is hard
to pack for the rest of your life. Someone is always
eating cold cucumber noodles. Someone will drop by later
to help dismantle some furniture. A lot can go wrong
if you sleep or think, but the trees go on waving
their broken little hands.

*

Current Mood: tired

rachelmanija

An incredibly beautiful book and a very faithful adaptation. Much of the language is word-for-word from the book. I would happily hang most panels on my wall.

A number of sequences are completely wordless, and while very beautiful I don't think I would have understood what was going on in all of them if I hadn't already read the book. There's also a lot of panels which are extremely dark, so much so that it's hard to tell what's happening. Most of these are indoors. I know there's no electricity but in most of these there is magelight!

Also, the otak is the size of a mouse and looks very much like a mouse. That is too small - in the book it catches a mouse and brings it to Ged, and other people tease Ged that it's a rat or a dog. I pictured it the size of a kitten or squirrel, and looking somewhat like a stockier weasel, or a small wolverine or marten. Definitely not a mouse!

It's always interesting to see other people's visualizations of books. The dragon of Pendor is seen mostly through a thick fog, all glowing eyes and fiery breath and insinuation. The flying creatures that pursue Ged and Serret from the Court of the Terrenon are not monstrous pterodactyls, as I always imagined them, but hideous living gargoyles.

I highly recommend this to anyone who's already read the novel, but I don't suggest reading it instead of or before the novel.

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selenak

Liots of things to do, and places to see (there willl be a pic spam), but I did catch up on the two shows.

For All Mankind 5.06:

( Spoilers think Mars is theirs… )

The Testaments 1.05:

( Spoilers consider a Prom in Gilead to be incredibly creepy and aesthetic at hte same time… )

Current Mood: content
Current Location: on the train

musesfool

Okay, crispy rice = pretty good. I tossed 1 cup of cooked rice with 2 tbsp low sodium soy sauce, 1 tbsp of olive oil, 1 tsp of toasted sesame oil, a sprinkling of garlic powder, and 1 diced shallot, spread it on a foil-lined sheet pan, and cooked it at 400°F for 25 minutes. I still have a bunch of rice left, so I might make fried rice tomorrow.

The salad part was less successful. I cleared some stuff out of the freezer - an old bag of frozen corn, a handful of frozen roasted chicken chunks I got in my misdelivered grocery order a few weeks ago - and then I added some toasted sesame seeds, some dry-roasted peanuts, and some arugula. The dressing was lime juice, toasted sesame oil, ground ginger, and olive oil (all scaled down for one serving) - it was ok, but I wouldn't make it again.

The stuff in the salad was mismatched and didn't go well together, which is my own fault, since I didn't really think about anything but the rice ahead of time. If I did it again, I might use shredded cabbage instead of arugula, and leave out the corn and the peanuts. I might also just dress it with olive oil and vinegar.

If I do it again, I will probably eat the crisped rice by itself, maybe with some scrambled egg like in fried rice, and some scallions. And I'd keep the toasted sesame seeds, because those are always tasty.

Here is today's poem:

An old story
by Bob Hicok

It's hard being in love
with fireflies. I have to do
all the pots and pans.
When asked to parties
they always wear the same
color dress. I work days,
they punch in at dusk.
With the radio and a beer
I sit up doing bills,
jealous of men who've fallen
for the homebody stars.
When things are bad
they shake their asses
all over town, when good
my lips glow.

*

Current Mood: disappointed
Current Music: Mets losing to the Rockies

sholio

I'm reading a book on recent research on dinosaur evolution (The Rise and Fall of the Dinosaurs by Steve Brusatte - apparently he has a book on bird evolution coming out soon and I'm definitely picking that up when I can) and it is blowing my miiiiiiind.

For example!

Did you know birds don't have hollow bones because they evolved them to fly? Birds have hollow bones because dinosaurs (saurians in particular - like Brontosaurus type creatures - but some of the other lineages as well) evolved them because it gave them an edge on growing large without being overly heavy, cooling themselves, and efficiently extracting oxygen from the air to support their enormous bodies. The super-efficient lungs that birds have were also a dinosaur adaptation to being big in hot climates, not a bird adaptation to flight. So basically, birds have ultralight bones and efficient lungs not because they evolved them to fly, but because dinosaurs needed these things in order to grow huge, and this turned out to be incidentally useful in radiating out into aerial niches when they began to evolve wings.

I also find it a fascinating experience to read this paleontology book when I've done so much reading on archaeology as a hobby interest. Archaeology books go into great depth on careful excavation techniques, sifting all the tiny bits of material and keeping everything in its proper location, and how incredibly tragic it is that so many sites of the past were excavated carelessly and so all of that information on the relative positioning of discoveries and small bits of material is lost ...

Meanwhile, paleontologists: so we took our hammers and started hacking up this rock formation to get the bones out. :D Also a local rancher sold us a dinosaur skeleton he found!!

(I mean I'm exaggerating a bit and the huge time difference is important, but also, lol.)

Another thing I was thinking about in one particular chapter, though the book doesn't address it specifically, is something I've thought about before, which is that we assume some creatures are primitive representations of what their kind used to look like, when in fact they are perfectly well adapted to their current niche, and their ancestors looked nothing like that. Alligators and crocodiles are the thing I was thinking of here - they look primitive, with those sprawling legs and inefficient means of walking, but in fact, early crocodiles hundreds of millions of years ago had their legs under the body and could sprint like a greyhound. (Which is terrifying, by the way.) They look like they do now, not because they could never run - they could! - but because other, more efficient dry-land runners out-competed them and they lost the running ability and retreated into the amphibious predator niche that they currently occupy.

Another example of this, not from this book - recent research on the human evolutionary tree suggests (at least according to one book I was reading a while back on the Miocene period) that the ancestor of both humans and chimpanzees was a sort of generalist creature, a couple of tens of million years back, that could both climb trees and walk upright. Humans ended up adapting to the walking/striding niche and losing the tree climbing, while chimpanzees did the opposite, adapted to climbing trees and became much less efficient at moving about on the ground. So rather than descending from a chimpanzee-like tree climber, we and chimpanzees are both specialized creatures who do not resemble our common ancestor all that much.

I just love this kind of thing.

primeideal

Spinoff from the Vorkosigan Saga, set two hundred years before the main series. Leo Graf, an engineer who works for the huge GalacTech company, is sent to a space station to instruct apprentice engineers. Turns out that most of the residents are children (the oldest class is twenty) who were genetically modified to have two extra arms instead of legs and other tweaks to be healthier/optimized for zero-gravity, and are known as "quaddies." Leo is able to stay calm and not react with revulsion, but the more he learns about the quaddies' precarious legal status and treatment, the more he feels like he needs to do something about it, even if he's just one guy. The good news is, sometimes social and ethical problems turn out to be just engineering problems...

In some ways, Leo is a foil to Miles; Miles is a disabled person, surrounded by able-bodied people, but he bluffs his way through things and his heroism turns out to be contagious. Leo is an able-bodied person, surrounded by the quaddies, who are seen as disabled in planetary gravity, and his leadership is similar.

“Or,” Leo raised his voice, “you can take your lives into your own hands. Come with me and put all your risks up front. The big gamble for the big payoff. Let me tell you”—he gulped for courage, mustered megalomania—for surely only a maniac could drive this through to success— “let me tell you about the Promised Land . . .”

I had recently reread part of "The Warrior's Apprentice" so the "please don't yell loudly when you're making a surprise entrance into the room" thing was fresh in my mind...

Even if Colonel Wayne in Nest of Doom led his troops into battle with his rebel yell over their comlinks, I don’t think real marines would do that. It would be bound to interfere with their communications.

There's a similar line with "we have to be careful about what videos we show people." "Oooh, pornography?!" "...No." that has Miles and Elena parallels.

And, of course, the themes of seeing the inherent worth and dignity in every human life, even the smallest and most vulnerable, are clear. (The quaddies were also products of the uterine replicators from Beta Colony, which leads the galaxy in a lot of technological innovations.) There's also a character whose bitterness is similar to that of the villain in "Mountains of Mourning"--when your life has been crushed by the system, it feels unfair for other people to have opportunities that you were denied.

As with Cordelia, Leo's worldview is informed by Christianity, but he's not tendentious about it. Can we jeopardize the mission to rescue one guy:

"Maybe. I’m not sure it’s good military thinking—the precedent had to do with sheep, I believe—but I don’t think I could live with myself if we didn’t at least try to get him back."

The weird legal status of the space station is kind of a parallel with "A Drop of Corruption":

GalacTech holds Rodeo on a ninety-nine-year lease with the government of Orient IV. The original terms of the lease were extremely favorable to us...

A great description of what planetary gravity would be like if you'd never experienced it before:

Leading from the hatch to the hangar floor was a kind of corrugated ramp. Clearly, it was designed to break down the dangerous fight with the omnipresent gravity into little manageable increments. “Stairs.”

The authorities try to enforce a "mothers are naturally parental, they must mind the babies, menfolk do the other stuff" policy, which Leo thinks is ridiculous, coming from a galaxy with uterine replicators, and the upshot is that a new father doesn't understand things like diaper rash and has to have his partner explain it. A good example of the limitations of this kind of societal structure, without being preachy. (This book features the most gripping, stressful, action-packed scene hinging on a diaper bag you've ever seen.)

Early on, it's established that quaddie education focuses on engineering, not great men of history...

“...a typical downsider history of, say, the settlement of Orient IV usually gives about fifteen pages to the year of the Brothers’ War, a temporary if bizarre social aberration—and about two to the actual hundred or so years of settlement and building-up of the planet. Our text gives one paragraph to the war. But the building of the Witgow trans-trench monorail tunnel, with its subsequent beneficial economic effects to both sides, gets five pages. In short, we emphasize the common instead of the rare, building rather than destruction, the normal at the expense of the abnormal. So that the quaddies may never get the idea that the abnormal is somehow expected of them. If you’d like to read the texts, I think you’ll get the idea very quickly.”

“I—yeah, I think I’d better,” Leo murmured. The degree of censorship imposed upon the quaddies implied by Yei’s brief description made his skin crawl—and yet, the idea of a text that devoted whole sections to great engineering works made him want to stand up and cheer.

And we get a nice payoff to this much later:

Shooting people was such a stupid activity, why should everybody—anybody!—be so impressed? Silver wondered irritably. You would think she had done something truly great, like discover a new treatment for black stem-rot.

Polar exploration drinking game!

“What if someone asks what happened to my feet?” Silver worried aloud.
“Amputated,” suggested Leo, “due to a terrible case of frostbite suffered on your vacation to the Antarctic Continent.”

I've said this before, but Bujold is great at the "leaving out the parts people skip" of pacing. Like, "Claire and Tony have some questions for Leo about the legal situation elsewhere in the galaxy" > "Claire and Tony make a run for it" follows pretty quickly in succession, whereas in other books I feel like there would be a lot more hedging/introspection before that.

( Spoilers )
Bingo: so, we get one mulligan square every year, and while I have not availed myself of it for the first four, this might be the time when I use one. You could probably make an argument for "politics" but by that token I think you could make an argument for almost anything for "politics."

Edit to add: the ancient and honorable male art of "monitoring the situation!" :D

“Since then we’ve been tracking the D-620, and it’s continued to boost straight toward Rodeo. It doesn’t answer our calls.”

“What are you doing about it?”

“We’re monitoring the situation. I have not yet received orders to do anything about it.”

musesfool

I made these salt bread rolls today (pic), and they are very tasty, but I think I still like pretzel rolls better, even with the mess of having to boil them before baking. There isn't much I like better than a big old soft pretzel, so pretzel rolls are where it's at for me. The salt bread is good though - very buttery.

I also made rice this afternoon in preparation for making a crispy rice salad tomorrow. I am very intrigued by the idea of crispy rice salad, but I don't know if I will like it in actuality, even though I like all the components I plan to put in it. (I'd also be more confident if every recipe I look at didn't call for a different type of rice. I made basmati, for the record.) I guess I'll report back tomorrow and how it goes.

And it's been a full day of watching hockey, after a long night of watching hockey last night. It's been exciting, but so much more relaxing since my team isn't in it.

And finally, here is today's poem:

Why You Should Never Marry A Poet
by Heather Bell

Think about it - the way that credit cards, bougainvillea,
vacations, dictionaries, the road on the way to work will

all never be enough. The poet wishes
with her deepest bones
and writes that she wishes
she would have killed you

in the supermarket. She wonders why
she ever loved you in song.

She publishes book after book. Each line detailing
how your hair is ugly and monstrous in the morning. And how,
like moss, you cling to her
so piteously.

But you marry her anyway.
and she looks like a roar of snow
in white. You figure she will read a poem about you
that day in front of everyone: her throat

is, after all, a stamen
or matchstick.

But she is silent, says only the I DO's
and a few Bible verses.

The poet loves with a most violent
heart. What you have not known-
she has wanted to tell you the truth
all of these years,

but grew silent as an old lover does
at eighty. There is no way to say

how one loves the ache of your cracked lips,
the heavy belly of your tongue, the years she spent
feeling not loved,
but still loving. Think about it-

the poet is fearful of others knowing and finding your mouth.

She is frightened of you -
realizing you could have been
loved better or harder
or with real words.

***

Current Mood: accomplished
Current Music: Stars vs Wild intermission

rachelmanija

This is the first book I've read by Tim Pratt. I had somehow gotten the impression that they wrote very highbrow, abstract sf that I probably wouldn't enjoy. I have no idea where that came from because this novel, which I tried because of the delightful premise, is completely not that and I enjoyed it very much.

Zax Delatree, a social worker/mediator from a utopian post-scarcity world, develops a condition where he travels to a random other world every time he sleeps. Through a lot of trial and error, he also discovers that he can take with him items on his person, and also other people if he's touching them when he falls asleep. If they're asleep too, they will arrive fine. If they're not, they arrive insane. ("The Jaunt" is one of many spottable influences.) Here's Zax and his companion, Minna, explaining their situation:

"Do you know the word 'multiverse?' [...] We're travelers, sort of. Sort of explorers. And sort of refugees."

"If this is true, the implications are immense."

"The implications are also very small and also personal," said Minna.

This is the most charming and heartfelt novel I've read in a while. It's mostly a picaresque, with Zax and Minna (and assorted friends and pursuing enemies) visiting all sorts of colorful other worlds, exploring and surviving and trying to be of use. The many worlds are great, I loved Zax and Minna and the friends they meet, and it's full of sense of wonder and hopefulness and people being kind under extremely difficult circumstances. I also liked that Zax and Minna are friends who are explicitly not romantically or sexually involved with each other.

There is a sequel, Prison of Sleep, which I have ordered.

sartorias

There's been a situation that has been making life stressful for the past year, and yesterday the stress doubled. My way of dealing with this kind of cosmic ass kick is to bury myself in writing, where I feel I have a pretence at control. I only say this because I might not be as responsive to posts as usual, and if anyone even notices a dearth of commentary from me (very small chance I realize) it's not you, it's me. Not gone, just coping and scribbling away.

musesfool

Does anyone know where I can get a Trinity Santos icon? [eta: icon acquired!]

*

Always need some Dorianne Laux during poetry month, so here's today's poem:

Prayer
by Dorianne Laux

Sweet Jesus, let her save you, let her take
your hands and hold them to her breasts,
slip the sandals from your feet, lay your body down
on sheets beaten clean against the fountain stones.
Let her rest her dark head on your chest,
let her tongue lift the hairs like a sword tip
parting the reeds, let her lips burnish
your neck, let your eyes be wet with pleasure.
Let her keep you from that other life, as a mother
keeps a child from the brick lip of a well,
though the rope and bucket shine and clang,
though the water's hidden silk and mystery call.
Let her patter soothe you and her passions
distract you, let her show you the light
storming the windows of her kitchen, peaches
in a wooden bowl, a square of blue cloth
she has sewn to her skirt to cover the tear.
What could be more holy than the curve of her back
as she sits, her hands opening a plum.
What could be more sacred than her eyes,
fierce and complicated as the truth, your life
rising behind them, your name on her lips.
Stay there, in her bare house, the black pots
hung from pegs, bread braided and glazed
on the table, a clay jug of violet wine.
There is the daily sacrament of rasp and chisel,
another chair to be made, shelves to be hewn
cleanly and even and carefully joined
to the sun-scrubbed walls, a sharp knife
for carving odd chunks of wood into small toys
for the children. Oh Jesus, close your eyes
and listen to it, the air is alive with bird calls
and bees, the dry rustle of palm leaves,
her distracted song as she washes her feet.
Let your death be quiet and ordinary.
Either life you choose will end in her arms

*

Current Mood: thoughtful

rachelmanija

A science fiction novella about aliens, communication, and certain dark topics which are spoilery to mention. Though if you read the blurb for this book, it very strongly implies those topics and the specific shocking twist that involves them. It reminded me of China Mieville's Embassytown, though the latter benefited from its longer length.

Ro's species, along with some others, can jump into the minds of Star Eaters, the mysterious species that alone can mine the mineral that enables space travel. Ro is told that doing so is the only way to study them, and while jumping into their bodies extinguishes their minds, they are extremely long-lived beings and their minds definitely come back, so Ro is only doing the equivalent of causing a day-long blackout. The Star Eaters were apparently once enslaved, but now work voluntarily; communication with them is difficult and puzzling. Once you jump in, you're stuck for the rest of your life, but Ro is such a curious and skilled linguist that he's willing to give up everything to understand this oddly mysterious race. (I guess the possessing being's mind is supposed to only live for its species's normal lifespan? This is not explained.)

If you've read much science fiction, or many books in general, you have probably already figured out what's really going on. In fact it's so obvious that it seems strange that it takes the characters so long to do so, but of course no one knows exactly what story they're in.

Everything involving alien communication is great. But the plot is so predictable and grim that I didn't enjoy the book much.

( Read more... )

pegkerr

In a lot of ways, this is my favorite time of year. Taxes are done! Porch season has begun, so I can start eating my breakfast outside. It's not too hot, and it's not too cold. There's no need to shovel, there's no need to rake leaves, and it's a little early to start mowing.

So all you have to do is to relax and enjoy the flowers that are starting to spring up. Forsythia blooms in April, and my tulip bed is making a splendid show. Pretty soon the lilacs and apple blossoms will be blooming.

It's too early to garden (the frost date is usually assumed to be around Mother's Day), but not early to start garden dreaming. Everything is potential, and you don't have to weed yet!

Image description:Background: a chart showing high and low temperatures for April and May. The chart is bordered by orange tulips (bottom), forsythia (left side), pansies (right side) and pink bleeding hearts (top).

Spring

16 Spring