According to my records, I’ve hit 180. Not counting rereads. Yikes.
I know I owe a review of the wonderful giant glossy OUP book about Pompeii. I haven’t forgotten. I’ve just spent six weeks bouncing from one bout of illness to another, which has played merry hell with deadlines and progress of ALL KINDS.
It’s coming. Eventually. In the meanwhile I’ve been reading books that require a little less in the way of intellectual engagement, for the most part.
Glenda Larke, The Last Stormlord. Orbit, 2009.
Epic fantasy. Interesting world-building, but the characterisation is inconsistent or occasionally odd, and the narrative drive and tension are not driving enough to make up for it. It isn’t doing enough with the space it has, which makes it feel slack and rather aimless at times.
Jeannie Lin, The Dragon and the Pearl, The Lotus Palace, Butterfly Swords and My Fair Concubine. Ebooks, various recent years.
These are entertaining romances set mostly in Tang dynasty China. Fun, really good incluing technique – as necessary in historical work as the genres of the fantastic – and the romance did not make me want to stab anyone in the face. Rather the opposite, in fact.
Sophia Kell Hagin, Whatever Gods May Be and Shadows of Something Real. Ebooks, various recent years.
Near-future stories starring a lesbian main character. The first is a war story, and the second less easily categorised. They’re surprisingly good, with real confidence in the prose.
C.S. Friedman, In Conquest Born. DAW, 1986, 2001 reprint.
Science fiction. Empires. Psychics. Space battles. Disturbing, unpleasant; depiction of a culture where male-on-female rape is normal, practically a requirement; characters all on the antihero end of the spectrum. Not My Cup Of Tea At All.
Jacqueline Carey, Dark Currents and Autumn Bones. Roc, 2012 and 2013.
Delightful, entertaining, interesting urban fantasy set in a small American town. More like this, please.
Tamora Pierce, Battle Magic. Scholastic, 2013.
Once again Pierce delivers a grand adventure involving young people. Although her not-Tibet and not-China has me side-eyeing a bit: the strokes are a little too broad, and the war is a little too easily won.
Lesley Davis, Dark Wings Descending and Pale Wings Protecting. Ebooks, recent dates.
Bad lesbian romance, with a side-order of cops and angels and demons.
Mira Grant, Parasite. Orbit, 2013.
Seanan McGuire really likes mad science, biological apocalypses, conspiracies, and simple organisms. I mean, really really really likes.
I’m going to need some time to think about this novel, really. There is a shit-tonne of info-dumping (through various methods, but a lot through excerpts from news sources and autobiographies), and the voice doesn’t seem particularly distinct from the rest of McGuire’s oeuvre, Discount Armageddon and sequel aside. On the other hand, I rather like the soft apocalypse conceit.
It’s not mind-blowing. It’s rather like John Scalzi’s novels – moderately interesting concepts, middle-of-the-road execution – which clearly isn’t exactly a niche market. I would like it to excite me more than it does. But it’s also very… American? It nests itself within – or perhaps it nests within itself – so many assumptions about how the world works, and how central America is to the world, that it creates in me a sense of disconnect and alienation.
Gail Simone, New 52: Batgirl Vol. 1. DC, 2013.
So I am converted to the idea of comics as an interesting medium now. Also Gail Simone is awesome.
Greg Rucka, Private Wars and The Last Run. Bantam, 2005 and 2010.
Rucka writes the best spy thrillers. No, really. The best. And I’m not just saying that because I would kill to see his Queen and Country stuff made into a good television series.
Greg Rucka and various artists, Queen and Country, collected volumes one through three. Oni Press.
I am extra converted to the idea of comics as an interesting medium. Rucka’s facility with writing flawed, ethically compromised, yet immensely compelling characters is brilliantly on display. Fantastic work.
I think I may have managed to surpass that number, though I haven’t kept very good track. I was averaging a book a day during my MA and then went gobbling through non-serious books afterwards due to Unemployment. (If you didn’t include academic texts in that number, then i’m not even close).
It has gotten to the point where I can’t even keep straight what books I have read anymore. All the mediocre and bad ones just kind of blur together into a mass of “what the hell am I doing with my time”?
Just 73, not counting rereads. I am humbled.
(Also, I think “middle-of-the-road execution” with regards to Parasite is charitable. I ditched it about halfway through.)
I’m not the fastest nonfic reader. So I salute you!
They say speed kills. *g*
Say more on Parasite? I thought it was structurally odd on balance, and had pacing issues, but I’d be interested to hear your thoughts.
Wow. I was feeling good about my 90, unfortunately all fiction. I keep stalling in anything else I pick up.
And I liked The Last Stormlord quite a bit, it is the book that got me into reviewing. But even I can admit it was way too long, and the bloat got worse in books two and three.
I’m partway into book two and bailing, because… yeah. I don’t have time for all this back and forth without going somewhere IMPORTANT.