Purrfectly Bad Demon

Bad Monkeys, by Matt Ruff
Completely absorbing story of competing clandestine societies, taking different characters and dubious motives and snarling them up into one of those knots that take concentration and absorption to unravel. Lots of Philip K. Dick influence, if that wasn't obvious, but still very much its own thing. Interesting at every stage along the way. I almost never succumb to the lure of a book when I'm supposed to be doing something else, but I spent an hour finishing this when I was meant to be shifting boxes...
(164/250)

Purrfectly Purrfect, by Patricia Lauber and Betsy Lewin
Goofy little kids' book about a kitten who is determined to be part of a school for cats that he isn't old enough to attend. Cute, but unremarkable. It was around when I needed something to read and was lacking my usual supply.
(165/250)

Demon in the City, by Liz Williams
I think my favorite thing about these underworld-noir novels featuring a mythical underworld - not to mention the associated heavens - is the co-protagonist demon's relationship to his conscience. He hugs it to himself like an embarrassing secret, but also like a cherished prize, and his actions demonstrate this ambivalence beautifully.
(166/250)

When the Confessions of Brasyl

When the Gods Are Silent, by Jane Lindskold
Rougher and with a more predictable story than her Athanor books, but still has the lovable characters, wry humor, and engaging plot I expect from this author.
(167/250)

Confessions of a Tax Collector, by Rick Yancey
This is the most well-written memoir I've read in a dog's age, and that puts it up against some serious competition. Yancey manages to make what I imagined to be a cold and alienating situation into a compelling and human one - without denying the alienation or the coldness. Damn, dude. And his use of language is just erudite enough. I will eventually read all his other books, I suspect. And I would've foisted this one on half-a-dozen people by now, if it weren't for the subject matter.
(168/250)

Brasyl, by Ian McDonald
As always, McDonald offers up an intriguing and challenging read. While I really do wish he'd go back to a simpler, more focused narrative style, I respect what he's doing enough to feel sort of lame for wanting that. And this book is the first one I've read that manages to endow the multiple-universe hypothesis with emotional resonance without wimping out on the theoretical side of things.
(169/250)