wyrd dark bullshit Montreales
Sep. 28th, 2005 12:20 pmWyrd Sisters, by Terry Pratchett
Fun, but kind of forgettable. I have an enduring affection for Nanny Ogg. And I liked the ending. I should probably show down a bit on these, or risk burnout.
(193/200)
The Dark Mirror, by Juliet Marillier
There are certain stories that just suck you in and you forget you're reading a story because you can see/smell/hear everything unfolding inside your head and you lose track of time and you can't put the book down even though you have things to do and when you finish them you really wish their sequels were out already. Marillier is rather gifted at writing those. Lovely, lovely.
(194/200)
On Bullshit, by Harry G Frankfurt
Short and charming. I don't really see why this book has become such a Big Deal, but I did enjoy it. Sort of a 'no duh' experience, but an enjoyable one.
(195/200)
Les aurores Montreales, by Monique Proulx
When I was last in Montreal a few years ago, I went on an orgiastic French-book-buying spree. And then promptly didn't read anything I'd bought, because my French reading speed is so much slower than my English reading speed (and yes, it does not escape me that this is principly due to a lack of practice). I am dumb. And this book is extremely good. Several of the stories in it will haunt me. (And the combination of reading in French and the place-specifity of the book has made me homesick for Montreal. Dammit. In a perfect world, I would have no obligations beyond those of love* and I would spend the majority of my time exploring the places I find most beautiful.)
(196/200)
*I'm not sure I do have obligations beyond those of love, it's just that in this universe, many of those obligations require a steady income stream for their fulfillment.
Fun, but kind of forgettable. I have an enduring affection for Nanny Ogg. And I liked the ending. I should probably show down a bit on these, or risk burnout.
(193/200)
The Dark Mirror, by Juliet Marillier
There are certain stories that just suck you in and you forget you're reading a story because you can see/smell/hear everything unfolding inside your head and you lose track of time and you can't put the book down even though you have things to do and when you finish them you really wish their sequels were out already. Marillier is rather gifted at writing those. Lovely, lovely.
(194/200)
On Bullshit, by Harry G Frankfurt
Short and charming. I don't really see why this book has become such a Big Deal, but I did enjoy it. Sort of a 'no duh' experience, but an enjoyable one.
(195/200)
Les aurores Montreales, by Monique Proulx
When I was last in Montreal a few years ago, I went on an orgiastic French-book-buying spree. And then promptly didn't read anything I'd bought, because my French reading speed is so much slower than my English reading speed (and yes, it does not escape me that this is principly due to a lack of practice). I am dumb. And this book is extremely good. Several of the stories in it will haunt me. (And the combination of reading in French and the place-specifity of the book has made me homesick for Montreal. Dammit. In a perfect world, I would have no obligations beyond those of love* and I would spend the majority of my time exploring the places I find most beautiful.)
(196/200)
*I'm not sure I do have obligations beyond those of love, it's just that in this universe, many of those obligations require a steady income stream for their fulfillment.