Many Months of Books: April, May & June

I’ve lumped April, May, and June together in one post, partly because each month’s offerings were a little slim due to beta-reading, partly because I haven’t been able to dredge the motivation to write anything more complex than a daily To Do list in weeks.

This is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone: Another recommendation from a friend who’s reading tastes often fall in line with my own after I’d asked for the names of some speculative fiction with F/F romantic pairings that didn’t end in tragedy or break-ups (I wanted a HEA people!). Anyway, this novella’s prose is, frankly, gorgeous. The words, the sound of them, the sounds of them strung together, the richness of the metaphors, the similes, the poetry of the prose, all of it had me reading and re-reading lines to enjoy their impact more than once. The romance’s build-up is slow and the approach of two individuals falling in love through letters alone was both brilliant and ambitious and it worked so, so well. The characters themselves are fascinating, and both are products of their individual futures, most times relatably human but other times, almost alien in their perception of the world(s). I did lose track of potential timelines and upthread/downthread a bit, and by nature of the execution, the mental “image” as it were tends to be vague, but that had little impact whatsoever on my enjoyment and appreciation. The texture of it is more short story than novel (a bit like my experience with The Tea Master and the Detective), so the world-building tends to be more snippets and snatches to create atmosphere and immersion as opposed to explaining things (an approach which I enjoy, but I know that not everyone does). The story, the structure, the prose-style, the world-building, all ask for this to be a book read slowly and savored, and I managed that—until the last 40 pages, which I consumed like a vacuum hose.

Half a King by Joe Abercrombie: I’ll admit, I wasn’t planning on reading this. It had been on my shelf for years, but I hadn’t gelled well with The Blade Itself when I read it years ago, and expected Half a King to be much the same. I was wrong. Half a King has echoes of the brutality of The Blade Itself but with characters I actively rooted for, and I enjoyed the central theme of the danger of oaths sworn. I enjoyed it so much, I read the book in a day, something I haven’t done since…er, undergrad (part of this might be due to me being furloughed). I caught two out of the three major twists: one from the start seeing that it was strikingly similar to a plot twist from a Disney movie, one on page 188 because of a seemingly small throw-away line, but the third took me by surprise, yet, I appreciated the subtle layering of hints. I also enjoyed that twist’s structure, the echo-/full-circle nature it lent to the narrative. It was intriguing to me to draw parallels between the myth and legend the characters have for the world, the little snippets that made me fairly convinced that it was a far flung post-apocalyptic earth (some of the elf architecture sounded a heck of a lot like concrete with steel rebar supports, there’s a reference that sounds a lot like radiation sickness, and there’s a bit about a green chip with gold lines made into a necklace that seemed…hmm), and the cyclical nature of Ragnarok, since much of this has a Vikings-esque texture to it.

The Physicians of Vilnoc by Lois McMaster Bujold: More Pen and Des! Yee! I’ve been looking forward to this one since I read a teaser sample of the first third-ish, and then somehow managed to completely miss the release date until I happened to listen to an interview with Bujold conducted by Baen Books, where the release was mentioned. The novella is rather prescient, given that this was released during a real-world pandemic, and is dealing with a fictional one. In that aforementioned interview, Bujold explained that it wasn’t based on Covid 19, but on other historical pandemics (there’s a reference that looks a lot like the Bubonic Plague, plus a few others). Which makes sense, since in order for this to be released in May, the actual drafting would’ve had to occur before the beginning of Covid. Which just means the release of this story coincides with real-world events, which adds another layer to an already excellent tale. As always, highly recommended. Please read these because, truly, they are fantastic and, even when dealing with material as dark as a spreading pandemic, nevertheless uplifting, and I tend to devour them within a day. Also, the idea of a demon gaining its first personality impression from a dog, and how easily that demon is then to 1. train, 2. entertain with the same activity repeated over and over, and 3. communicate with made a great deal of sense. Also appreciated seeing what a more usual method of transferring a demon from one rider to the next, since Pen and Des’ was a bit unorthodox, and most of the demon-ridden sorcerers in The Paladin of Souls are not all that willing to have a demon in the first place.

A Lady’s Guide to Celestial Mechanics by Olivia Waite: This was an utterly delightful read. I’m a secret fan of regency romance, though incredibly picky since the time period and adherence to prescribed gender roles can be a bit “er, no thanks” for me, but this is the first regency F/F romance I’ve come across (though not by chance; it was recommended during a panel at the online Nebula Conference). Lucy and Catherine’s relationship, as Catherine learns she can embrace her attraction to women and Lucy heals from the heartbreak of her longtime lover marrying someone else, was sweet, passionate, and well-paced (though I quibble a little on what drives them apart for the traditional “lovers are driven apart” stage of a romance—the reunion and climax of the external plot was more engaging for me, though I recognize that without that step, the end wouldn’t have had the cohesion it did). I also loved the budding science field aspect, the combination of hopefulness and sense of discovery with the infuriating dark flip-side of the suppression of women scientists. It does end rather neatly and positively on that point, but this is a romance novel, and the expectation of an HEA precludes defeat. So while real-world history was often far grimmer, this parallel version fits the story it’s telling. And I see the author has another in this series coming out toward the end of July, so guess what one of my August reads will be?


May all of you stay safe and healthy and please, for the love of the all, wear a mask if you go out.

A Month of Books: February

Phoenix Unbound by Grace Draven: I will be honest, I was a bit conflicted about reading this book. I love Grace Draven’s other fantasy-romance series, but the Goodreads reviews on this one were sharply split between high stars and low stars, with few in between. After having read it, I’d say I’m still a bit conflicted, but I think I know why. It’s mostly a pacing thing. For the first 100 pages, events happen in a tight chronological order, which lends it a fast-paced, almost claustrophobic opener. The next 200-something pages, the pacing shifts; there’s long stretches that are covered with a short time-passing transition, and months go by rather quickly. Firstly, once you’re past the first 100 pages, it becomes clearly a Grace Draven novel, so if you’re reading and, like me, felt unsure about the beginning, stick with it. For me at least, this choice of pacing and presentation had a fascinating emotional impact. Because of that fast-paced, intense first 100 pages, for a long while after, I found myself braced for it to slip back into that style, and it took me time before I realized that…it wasn’t going to. Which seemed to echo Gilene’s emotional state as she slowly comes to trust Azarion. You brace, ready for the situation to get worse, so much worse…but over time, you come to trust that it won’t. Even when things escalate at the end, it’s a different kind of escalation than in the beginning, and it almost feels safely epic. I will, however, warn that there is a lot of allusions to rape, physical and mental abuse, and slavery, especially at the beginning. It’s a hell of a dark start for what will, eventually, become a rather sweet romance built on trust and friendship, so if this is a concern, then I recommend steering clear of Phoenix Unbound and pick up Radiance instead. That said, for all my initial uncertainty, I enjoyed it.

Paladin’s Grace by T. Kingfisher: As always, T. Kingfisher’s fantasy-romance adventure tales are an absolute delight. This one came as a wonderful and unexpected surprise (I totally was going to read something else but…this was releasing in a week so…). While similar to Swordheart, the tone is more solemn, more somber, a bit more like Clockwork Boys (Paladin’s Grace, for more reason than one, felt a bit like a merging of Swordheart and Clockwork Boys, which, I might note, is certainly not a strike against it), though it has it’s moments of outrageous hilarity. Like Clockwork Boys, we have angsty guilt-ridden paladins yet, like Swordheart, they’re more militant types and, like Swordheart, the romance is pretty front-and-center (well, there’s also the poisoning thing. And the court-room drama. And the, er, heads—it’s a brilliant blend of a lot of different subgenres that work together, though on the surface, they shouldn’t). Like much of Kingfisher’s work, there’s this underlying note of darkness (in this case, someone is murdering people and, er, leaving only the decapitated head around—the answer to that little mystery is a bit disturbing). But Stephen is delightfully outraged that people are not taking this threat seriously! Honestly, this combination of weird and wondrous and tinged with a slight shadow of horror reminds me a lot of Doctor Who (both classic and reboot). Grace, with her sense of smell superpower (it isn’t really, she’s a perfumer so her sense of smell is a bit…keener than the rest of the world, but she also has training to identify smells), and Stephen, with his hobby of knitting,  fit so wonderfully together. And I still love the idea of solicitors sacrosanct and the White Rat, and I was thrilled to see Zale again.

Clockwork Boys and The Wonder Engine by T. Kingfisher: I’m reading these all out of order. I started with Swordheart, moved on to Paladin’s Grace, and am now doubling back for what was originally the start (not quite of a series, but perhaps more of the world) but I just never quite managed to read it. So! Finally reading Clockwork Boys and I must ask myself why it has taken me so long. I am also going to review these two as one, since they’re very much structured as one novel broken in two, rather than two stand-alones (though, hypothetically, I suppose you could read The Wonder Engine without having read Clockwork Boys). I’m a bit torn on the end. While it’s ostensibly what I wanted, at the same time, I feel a little conflicted about how things resolved (and while I recognize that one character’s death was, emotionally, resonant, I feel I would’ve appreciated the twist being a little less sudden, particularly since I’d grown quite attached to that character). I also felt there were two rather large plot threads that didn’t get addressed all that much, and I’d have appreciated another touch or two, since everything else was bundled quite neatly (Boss Horsehead and the removal of the tattoos, namely; I would’ve really liked things to have come full-circle with a short epilogue addressing the tattoos, seeing that it isn’t explicitly stated that they’re, er, moot). The romance in these two, by the way, is not quite the same sort of fluffy of Swordpoint or Paladin’s Grace, and I appreciated that. The tone here is darker, and the two love interests are so clearly broken people, and certain events lead to a period of grieving which the narrative doesn’t shy from. There’s also so many bits that so brilliantly characterizes the characters in a line or two, making them both complicated and utterly fascinating. While the duology is probably not my favorite, it’s still a damn good read.

A Month of Books: December

The Tea Master and the Detective by Aliette de Bodard: I would argue that this is less a novella and more of a long novelette. It is very short, and because of that shortness, it had more of the texture of a short story—of language, sparseness of description, precise but possibly a little linear plotting—than it did a novella, and I admit, I went into it expecting more of a novella approach. That said, the world is absolutely fascinating and I loved the concept of sentient ships (and their names!), especially the idea that since the central core of the ships are born of humans (it’s questionable if they are humanoid, since the description of a ship’s core is vague) they have human blood-relations. The Tea Master and the Detective utilizes the Sherlock Holmes and Watson archetype, with Sherlock as Long Chau, an incredibly drugged but brilliant deductionist (honestly, this interpretation of Sherlock Holmes is the most true to the original source material’s personality and presence I think I’ve seen yet) and Watson as The Shadow’s Child, a sentient ship who brews specially crafted teas to help humans acclimate to “deep spaces.” The cultural world-building is absolutely fascinating, but because of the novella’s short length, it’s much more a story of character and culture than it is about solving the mystery. My only quibble was the sparseness of description when it came to the ships. I had little idea what The Shadow’s Child‘s avatar looked like most of the time, and I’m still unsure if a ship’s core is a humanoid being grafted into the ship or a biological mass of brain and heart.

Pumpkin Heads by Rainbow Rowell and Faith Erin Hicks: Oh! Look! Graphic novel! And an adorable little romance story about figuring out the person who’s your person is sometimes your best friend. It’s refreshing to read a story with a bi/pan character where their sexuality and dating history is not considered weird or something to make noise about! Meredith has dated most of her coworkers and it isn’t treated as either, 1. a joke or 2. something reprehensible. Plus! Josiah has never dated anyone, and again, that’s treated as totally valid and not the butt-end of a joke. It is also refreshing to read a graphic novel/comic where the female/fem characters have a wide array of body types! Admittedly, it’s still limited when it comes to heavier body shapes, but it’s better than it usually is. And the art is wonderfully expressive and cute and fits the feel of the story quite well.


And so, we get to half of the reason why I haven’t read all that much this month: TV. Oh, there’s just so much good TV being released. The other half is that I’m currently reading/editing a novel to get it ready for betas, thus, much of my reading brain-space is claimed already. Also, holidays.

First one up: Star Trek: Discovery, Season 2, which I have been waiting for the DVD release for months because I don’t have CBS All Access (this will become a point later).

Star Trek: Discovery, Season 2: Definitely more ‘Trek than the first season. It’s doing it’s own thing, but has callbacks to the Original Series, and with that cliffhanger end, I’m starting to wonder if every season is an almost homage to each of the individual series within the great blanket of Star Trek. First season almost felt like a gritty Enterprise. Season 2 is more Original Series, and not just because of Captain Pike and Spock. Next season seems to be setting up an almost Voyager-esque season. We’ll see if my theory pans out.

My one, major quibble with this season was the events of episode 6: “The Sound of Thunder”, where the Discovery is summoned/led to Saru’s home planet. The setup was intriguing, and I was sure this was going to lead into a two-parter, but then the end happened and I was left feeling very blah. I mean, really? Discovery? You’re just going to leave? You basically set fire to this planet’s (very oppressive, highly morally questionable) society, culture, and political sphere, and then you just…leave and say, “Oh, they’ll sort it out.” Ah, no. I don’t care how much the Kelpiens believe in balance, the Ba’ul were fully prepared to launch a species-wide genocide after thousands of years of oppression and “culling” the Kelpien population for control. You don’t just leave. They are not going to sort this out. I’d be better with this if there was a mention of passing this particular thorny mess to the Star Fleet Diplomatic Corps. That would make sense, where Discovery backs out because they’re not trained for this. But…to leave in silence, then have the Kelpiens swoop in at the end using Ba’ul ships…seriously makes me question if Kaminar has two species any longer, or if the Kelpiens wiped out the Ba’ul and got their tech.

Now, my other quibble is with the series as a whole or, at least, how CBS is making it almost impossible not to pay for their All Access option. See, there’s a moment right at the end of the season that relies entirely on a previously established relationship between two characters…that wasn’t introduced in Discovery. Nope, this was actually in the Short Treks spin-off series, something I hadn’t even realized was a thing. Because I hadn’t known that this was going to be a semi-requirement in order to understand, I then spent an inordinate amount of time switching discs, looking for the episode I missed, then, when I couldn’t find it, assumed it was something I’d forgotten from season 1, so went back to my bingeing. It wasn’t until after watching the two-parter season finale that I found out that one character was introduced in a Short Treks episode, and that’s why I couldn’t find it. *grumble grumble grumble* I may, may, break down and get the All Access subscription when the third season releases, just so I can binge-watch Season 3 and all the Short Treks episodes I missed.

I sobbed at a character’s death. This is not unusual, I sob fairly easily at character deaths, particularly if that character then has a moving funeral (this one did). Favorite scene, by far, was Michael asking Spock if he really thinks the beard is working. *sigh* Highlight of the season.

The WitcherOh, I’ve been waiting for this for months. Months and months and months.

I liked the split focus between the three central characters. That said, I have the benefit of having read some of the books quite a few years ago, which might’ve been for the best. While I was familiar with who was important and why they were in the story, my memory has gone fuzzy on the details, so I wasn’t actively comparing the adaptation with the source material (which I think a few reviewers were, whether consciously or unconsciously). That said, the, er, multiple timeline structure is confusing as all hell, and I can only assume it’s even more confusing for those who have neither read the books or played the games (I’m more recent on the games; I binge-played The Witcher III about two years ago and did a story/craft analysis on it). For the first two episodes and much of the third, I was holding two possibilities in mind: either it’s a multi-timeline story where they didn’t mark the timelines as being separate OR they decided to make everything happen concurrently…which would’ve been odd, but it is an adaptation, so…

It wasn’t until the third episode where there’s some overlap with royals’ ages that I figured out it was the former not the latter, and things started making sense. So my one bit of advice for those who haven’t seen it and haven’t read the books, know that Geralt’s and Yennifer’s timelines are occurring decades before Ciri is even born. Geralt’s timeline is mostly the short stories (most of which can be found in The Last Wish), Yennifer’s is backstory that’s referenced (as far as I remember), and Ciri’s is a lead-up to the events of the first book. In a way, it embodied my frustrations when I read the novels (I clearly remember throwing the first book down with an exasperated cry of, “It’s just a PROLOGUE?”).

Which probably explains the tonal conflict and the occasional sudden shifts in emotional tone between episodes. Geralt’s timeline isn’t running as chronologically as Ciri’s, so there’s gaps and spaces of unspoken years between events (and it’s easy to miss when there’s been a time-skip). While I enjoyed this, I can see how this would definitely rub people wrong.

There were some choices with Yen’s backstory that I was a bit iffy on, but I realize that much of it is drawn from the books (it just hasn’t aged well, in my opinion), and there was a point where I was certain there was a blatant contradiction; they might end up addressing that in the next season, so *shrug*. I also question, if a viewer doesn’t know who Ciri is and who she becomes, whether or not her story would feel as vital/compelling as it does to someone who does know.

Much like with Carnival Row, I await season 2 to see where they take this. I also feel the strong urge to replay The Witcher III: Wild Hunt*.

Other shows binge-watched this month:

  • Shakespeare & Hathaway: Private Investigators, Season 2
  • Death in Paradise, Season 8

Shows that I anticipate binge-watching:

  • Murdoch Mysteries, Season 13**
  • Brokenwood Mysteries, Season 6**

* However! I did just fix Skyrim and I’m happily binge-playing that while working on edits, so…it might be awhile.
** Acorn TV is doing a slow-release schedule for both of these of one episode a week. Which curtails my binge-plans.

A Month of Books: October

Immortal Born by Lynsay Sands: Ah, the newest edition to the ongoing romance saga. I’m conflicted on this one. The premise intrigued me and I’ve been looking forward to it for a few months now, but in execution it’s…not the strongest. For one thing, I didn’t find it all that funny, and usually, I’m cracking up reading these. Not one snicker. Secondly, there’s a lot of character cameos from previous books in here. To the point that it’s a bit of a name-soup (doesn’t help that it’s been well over a year, year and half since I read most of these, so I struggled to remember who was who and married to who (most of the time, I failed)). The romance was also weirdly weak (there’s almost no flirting, no banter, and little courtship–no one worked for this romance), and the plot…to a certain degree, felt a lot like the plot from book #21. I dunno. This one wasn’t one of my favorites.

The Hallowed Hunt by Lois McMaster Bujold: Speaking of favorites! Erm, I seem to be reading a lot of Lois McMaster Bujold these past few months. In my defense, I am scheduled on a panel in November discussing her work (primarily the Vorkosigan Saga, but the panel description seems flexible, so we’ll probably end up talking about her fantasy, too), so my excuse is that I’m brushing up on the ones I haven’t read as recently?* I’ve always felt The Hallowed Hunt was underappreciated by Goodreads readers, and I enjoyed it for all the differences others seemed to have disliked. Ingrey is prickly, and takes some time to get used to, and may, at first, seem to have a stunted emotionality (not true though! It’s just subtle). He’s less, on the whole, as sympathetic a character as the other two, but I really, really do like his insistence that for a wolf-ridden shaman warrior, he’s supposed to be normal. He wants nothing to do with all this uncanny nonsense!

The Curse of Chalion by Lois McMaster Bujold: Oh, I’m reading these all out of order. Ah, well. Fourth reread of this one? I think? It’s interesting to view it as part of the series as a whole and to see where and how the world of the five gods evolved from here. We haven’t had much mention of death magic/miracles in the later books (it’s been awhile since I read the earlier Penric & Desdemona novellas, so maybe it’s in there and I’ve forgotten), but in The Curse of Chalion, it is CENTRAL. I’ve also found that the more times I reread this book, the clearer the scenes become, while simultaneously, I’m better able to see the structure of the novel as a whole. Now comes the question, do I continue on to The Paladin of Souls or continue my reread of the Vorkosigan Saga…

The Paladin of Souls by Lois McMaster Bujold: Well, that answers that. So far, with every reread, there’s this one scene a little past the midway mark of the book that never fails to leave me misty-eyed. It isn’t a death scene, it isn’t a heart-breaking moment of grief but, rather, a moment of kindness and hope, and I still find it deeply moving, even when I know the scene is coming. This read-through, I noticed that, in a weird way, the romance is sort of a subversion of the guy-gets-the-girl trope, where Ista’s love interest is definitely divinely inclined to her, and he might be a little bit of a reward to entice her back to the material world, but it’s pretty clear they’re a reward for each other, in the end. Still. It was interesting to notice that this time around.

Penric’s Demon, Penric and the Shaman, Penric’s Fox, Penric’s Mission, Mira’s Last Dance, The Prisoner of Limnos, and The Orphans of Raspay by Lois McMaster Bujold: Because of my earlier statement that death magic/miracles doesn’t come up as a central plot element in later books, I felt it necessary to reread all of the Penric and Desdemona novellas in order to back up that claim. For science. And the answer is…nope, doesn’t come up again as a major plot point, at least, not yet. The series is still, as far as I’m aware, still going. This seems to be the month for rereading. Probably because I’m so, so close to finishing the initial draft of this book I’ve been working on. I’ve been returning to old favorite reads rather than striking out with something new. They’re just…so wonderfully comfortable, you know? As a side thing, I dream of owning a print copy hardcover of Penric’s Demon. I wasn’t able to afford these till after it’d gone out of print, and now that it’s a collector’s item, I definitely can’t afford it. Which is unfortunate, seeing that I have the others.


* This is a lie. I would’ve re-read it regardless.

A Month of Books: September

Swordheart by T. Kingfisher: Another recommendation from someone (else) I know, and I have found a new favorite writer! It reminded me fondly of both The Paladin of Souls and the Penric and Desdemona series by Lois McMaster Bujold, mixed with the laugh-out-loud humor of Terry Pratchett’s Discworld and the whimsy of Princess Bride (the movie more than the book), while being something entirely of itself. And, oh, was this hilarious. To the point that, like Terry Pratchett’s Discworld, I self-banned myself from reading this while at work. Because I have a very loud laugh and I work in a very small library. It’s got romance! And laughs! And swords! And property lawyers (who are heroes)! And some very disturbing things hanging out in trees…

Minor Mage by T. Kingfisher: Because of Swordheart, I needed more by T. Kingfisher. I’m siding with the author and saying this is a kid’s book. Albeit, a somewhat dark kid’s book, but kids tend to like dark anyway (or, at least, I did when I was a kid, so…). Honestly, it’s a cute read. I’d been anticipating funny based off of Swordheart, and this is less laugh-out-loud funny, more wry, but the magic is wonderfully whimsical and I love the idea of an armadillo as a familiar.

All Systems Red, Artificial Condition, Rogue Protocol, and Exit Strategy by Martha Wells: I’m on a novella-spree here it seems, this time, skittering over into sci-fi. I just love the inversion of the idea that if humans were to create sufficiently intelligent AI, that AI would undoubtedly kill us. In All Systems Red, said sufficiently intelligent AI…mostly just wants to be left alone to watch its entertainment dramas. Humans are strange and stressful and difficult to anticipate (and yet, as much as it insists it doesn’t care, SecBot/Murderbot…does; truly, it’s fascinating to pick apart how Wells wrote a character who, ostensibly, desires a bare minimum of human contact and whose only goals are to watch the next episode of its soaps, and yet, manages to make that character extremely compelling). Also, there’s an echo of horror in these (especially All Systems Red and Rogue Protocol, more adventure-thriller for Artificial Condition and Exit Strategy), that eerie kind that I associate more with the creepier Doctor Who episodes, which I very much enjoyed. All Systems Red is an easy novella to binge-read. What am I saying? They’re all easy to binge-read! Case in point, while dog-sitting, I devoured the other three books in the series in a day and a half and am hyped for Network Effect’s release in May of next year. Can’t wait, can’t wait! And, oh, Exit Strategy was an excellent conclusion, though I’m thrilled to learn there will be more.

Why Kill the Innocent by C. S. Harris: While typically I range toward the speculative in my reading tastes, I do so enjoy historical mysteries set pre-modern forensics era*, and this one is a series that I’ve been following for a few years now. The thing I so enjoy about this particular series is the author note at the end, where Harris discusses what parts of the novel were drawn from historical fact, what was supposition, what was entirely fiction, and what was amalgamations of real historical events or people crunched together. This fascinates me. The mystery was one of those where there are so few suspects I kept casting around for that someone that didn’t fit, and though I worked out who was behind it before Sebastian (mostly because of a single development where, if you thought about it, only one character would know that other character intimately enough to successfully frame him), I utterly failed to work out the “why” so it was still a satisfactory mystery.

Who Slays the Wicked by C. S. Harris: And because I’m on a historical mystery kick, book 14 of the series! I’m very behind on these. Anyway, this one is almost an opposite of the previous. With Why Kill the Innocent there was a dearth of suspects, in Who Slays the Wicked, they’re practically teeming. While I wish the red herring suspect wasn’t so obviously a red herring (that Sebastian insisted on suspected for no other reason than it served the plot), the final twist was ultimately satisfying and made a disturbing amount of sense. I’m pleased it went that route, and looking forward to the next one (Who Speaks for the Damned, April 2020).

Going Postal by Terry Pratchett: On a whim, I watched the BBC mini-series adaptation on Amazon, and had the sudden urge to compare/contrast the book to the show (because that’s how my mind works?). BUT I realized I hadn’t read the book in years so cue reread! I hadn’t realized just how subtle stuff is in this one, particularly the sections with Vetinari and the business meetings. I see why, for the show, they gave Adora Belle Dearheart more emotional beats, and transferred some of Moist’s a-hah! moments to other characters. I also see why some of the side-plots with the clacks towers were lessened or removed, so for a more in-depth viewing, definitely read the book (in some ways, it’s like Lord of the Rings; the adaptation alone works wonderfully, but reading the book adds a whole ‘nother layer of nuance). As for the end, the show is more cinematic and dramatic (which, of course) and the book, less so. But the book brings up character conflict right at the end that I hadn’t been expecting and, I think, forgot was there. Still. It’s Discworld, therefore, Sir Terry Pratchett, therefore, absolutely brilliant. Still one of my favorites.

Finder by Suzanne Palmer: More sci-fi! This time, with overtones of a western with an almost Macgyver-esque way of approaching problems (How do you disable space security drones? Answer: vibrating dildos, tennis balls, sticky candy, and foil. How do you fool a gangster into flying a spaceship in your path? Answer: a very fancy suit and a bundle of junk covered in lots of lights). Midway through, the story took a somewhat unexpected jink and there was an extended almost-side quest that didn’t, initially, seem to fit BUT it all comes together rather neatly in the end, and the final bit of trickery Fergus uses is brilliant. Trust that the middle does, in fact, link up with everything else is all I can say. I’m hoping there’s a book two (which it seems like there is; it’s labeled as book one), but Finder also stands alone fairly well. There’s a lot of unanswered questions at the end, which feels like setup for a series (a trilogy, at least).


*My theory for my favoring mysteries set pre-modern forensics is that it tends to be more about talking to people and putting together clues than necessarily putting together evidence. Also, I like reading fair-play mysteries more than mysterious thrillers, personally, because I like to try to work it out myself (I’m usually right about half the time but rarely work out the underlying motive before the characters do). I also love speculative mysteries, but those are a bit rarer to find (especially ones where the murder isn’t a stepping stone to a more traditionally epic plot).