9 November 2004
I read four books for contract work yesterday, three by Bill Brittain and one by Geoffrey Ashe. I really, really didn't like the Bill Brittains. The Wish Giver seemed to go with "don't wish for things" as its message. "Be careful what you wish for" can very easily go over that line, and I don't like it when it does.
The Ashe was all right, but it was The Landscape of King Arthur. I may have read it in high school. I certainly read enough books like it that none of the information was new. I skimmed a fair amount.
I'm saving the other Ashe book for a bit later. I had enough contract work research for the time being and needed a book actually for myself, so I'm reading Mary Monica Pulver's Murder at the War, an SCA murder mystery. It's very...patchy. There are bits I like, but there are bits where the infodump gets really, really badly done. As-you-know-Bob-ing her head off. "Please tell me about X," says one character constantly, and people always oblige her in the manner most likely to edify the reader. It's bad enough to make me howl and good enough to make me keep going.
I finished "Even Without Deceit" last night, complete with poking at it to make it go. It's another in the series with "MacArthur Station," "Rest Stop," and "Glass Wind." It will all add up to an episodic novel at some point, but at this point, it's just a short story. I also worked on novel revisions. La la la. Same story.
And we wait, and we wait, and we wait to make plans. And we sing Tom Petty songs and we wait. La la.
And the main page.
Or the last entry.
Or the next one.
Or even send me email.