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Feb. 28th, 2008
Dead Captain's Fantasy Chato
Feb. 28th, 2008 11:29 pm(almost 2 weeks since my last book post, and I don't really have enough to need a cut. shocking!)
Captain's Fury, by Jim Butcher
This is the second time in a row that I started the latest book in this series all dubious and 'I dunno if this book is going to be as good as the last one', and then ended up so immersed that I cried at some point, and ended up really liking the book as a whole. Dunno if Butcher's beginnings are weak or I'm just too initially cynical for my own good.
(38/300)
The Dead Fathers Club, by Matt Haig
Imagine Hamlet as an 11-year-old British boy who never ever uses apostrophes or quotation marks. Imagine![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
maribou digging a book so much that it only took her 30 pages to get over the lack of '. Yup. This book is exactly that weird, and that good. Very different from the play it constantly alludes to, but satisfyingly and affectionately so.
(39/300)
The Best Science Fiction and Fantasy of the Year, Volume 1, edited by Jonathan Strahan
I read this too soon after YBFH; there was a lot of overlap and I couldn't be bothered to reread most of the repeats. But the stories I hadn't read before were uniformly excellent.
(40/300)
Chato y su cena, by Gary Soto
This was quite a bit more linguistically complicated than the last Spanish kids' book I read. I think I'll probably reread it with a dictionary before I give it back. But it was very fun puzzling it out. Archetypal plot - cat tries to trick a bunch of rats into being dinner by telling them they'll be eating it, hijinks ensue. The illustrations were wonderfully colorful and energetic.
(41/300 - eesh, I'm behind; stupid February)
Captain's Fury, by Jim Butcher
This is the second time in a row that I started the latest book in this series all dubious and 'I dunno if this book is going to be as good as the last one', and then ended up so immersed that I cried at some point, and ended up really liking the book as a whole. Dunno if Butcher's beginnings are weak or I'm just too initially cynical for my own good.
(38/300)
The Dead Fathers Club, by Matt Haig
Imagine Hamlet as an 11-year-old British boy who never ever uses apostrophes or quotation marks. Imagine
maribou digging a book so much that it only took her 30 pages to get over the lack of '. Yup. This book is exactly that weird, and that good. Very different from the play it constantly alludes to, but satisfyingly and affectionately so.(39/300)
The Best Science Fiction and Fantasy of the Year, Volume 1, edited by Jonathan Strahan
I read this too soon after YBFH; there was a lot of overlap and I couldn't be bothered to reread most of the repeats. But the stories I hadn't read before were uniformly excellent.
(40/300)
Chato y su cena, by Gary Soto
This was quite a bit more linguistically complicated than the last Spanish kids' book I read. I think I'll probably reread it with a dictionary before I give it back. But it was very fun puzzling it out. Archetypal plot - cat tries to trick a bunch of rats into being dinner by telling them they'll be eating it, hijinks ensue. The illustrations were wonderfully colorful and energetic.
(41/300 - eesh, I'm behind; stupid February)
So I was lucky enough to be given a perfect April day, set down at the end of this stupid month. Sixty degrees, today, and lovingly sunny, the sunny springtime blue sky and rising green and fattening buds that made me love Colorado in the first place.
Of course, I left the building at lunch. I went to the local cafe-in-a-Victorian and asked if please I mightn't sit out on the patio, making myself the first person to do so in 2008. And then I sat in the sun and read while I waited to order, and one of our fat orangey-brown squirrels came out and sat about 3 inches from my foot and stared directly into my eyes as if to say, "What the hell are you doing out here and why don't you have any bread to feed me?" After I'd ordered, but before the food came, a bee visited. It circled my diet Coke, landed on the ice cube, figured out that it was strictly imitation nectar, landed on my shoulder, walked up and down on my bright Hawaiian, figured out they were strictly imitation flowers (actually, fish, but), landed on my book, walked up and down on the print. I don't know what it thought about the print, but it got bored pretty fast and decided to climb around on the back of my head for a while. Then it flew off, and I had dilled artichoke soup and some salad, and read my book, and watched the crows in the trees. And the whole time my heart was singing, singing.
Of course, I left the building at lunch. I went to the local cafe-in-a-Victorian and asked if please I mightn't sit out on the patio, making myself the first person to do so in 2008. And then I sat in the sun and read while I waited to order, and one of our fat orangey-brown squirrels came out and sat about 3 inches from my foot and stared directly into my eyes as if to say, "What the hell are you doing out here and why don't you have any bread to feed me?" After I'd ordered, but before the food came, a bee visited. It circled my diet Coke, landed on the ice cube, figured out that it was strictly imitation nectar, landed on my shoulder, walked up and down on my bright Hawaiian, figured out they were strictly imitation flowers (actually, fish, but), landed on my book, walked up and down on the print. I don't know what it thought about the print, but it got bored pretty fast and decided to climb around on the back of my head for a while. Then it flew off, and I had dilled artichoke soup and some salad, and read my book, and watched the crows in the trees. And the whole time my heart was singing, singing.