Yesterday I finished an audiobook of William Gibson’s pioneering cyberpunk novel, Neuromancer. I liked it but don’t feel compelled to search out his other books.
Just starting Ed Lin’s Ghost Month, a mystery novel about a glum street vendor in Taiwan who looks into the unsolved murder of his ex-girlfriend. So far it’s not wowing me.
I have two other books going right now: Frank Herbert’s sf classic Dune, which isn’t as well-written as I remember from when I last read it in high school (no surprise there), although its world-building is still terrific; and Education in Violence by Francis F. McKinney. It’s a biography of a Civil War hero of mine, Maj. Gen. George H. Thomas, “the Rock of Chickamauga,” who remained loyal to the U.S. even as many of his fellow Virginians went with the Confederacy. Kind of dry, but interesting.
I read that awhile back and liked it very much. A very readable pop-science book on a fascinating topic.
Thanks for this; I’m a Sedaris fan. Several of my fellow Civil War-history junkies have mentioned the book to me and I hope to get to it sometime.
I just finished a book called Fall From Grace, one of apparently a series of mysteries by Tim Weaver featuring a private detective named David Raker. Raker’s specialty is finding missing persons, and he’s good at it because he cares.
I have to say the basic plot is brilliantly conceived and presented, except for two things that were so maddening that they largely eclipsed the good stuff, at least for me. One is that the protagonist, told in first person, does so many stupid, really really stupid things that seem designed just to put him in peril to make for some excitement. Example:
His antagonist through much of the book is a very scary, very competent villain. Our hero breaks into the villain’s apartment while the villain is out for an unknown period of time, but the only way in is through an unlocked rear window, which squeaks loudly when opened, because it doesn’t fit well and it’s old. What does he do when he gets inside but close that window, so that when the villain predictably comes home through the front door he is trapped and has to struggle to open the window again so he can escape in the ::ta da!:: nick of time. The other complaint is probably much worse. The book is about 90% done and pretty much all the issues are resolved, when suddenly a twist so unlikely is introduced that it puts the whole book out of whack. Note that up to now all the plot surprises made sense, making previous bits of unexplained information fall into place. Why would X have done Y? Oh, because of new fact Z. Wow, now it makes sense. Until this last twist, which also relies on at least two nearly impossible coincidences.
So, Mr. Weaver, no I won’t be reading more of your stories because they make me grind my teeth. Too bad, because like I said your basic plot was brilliant.
Farthing, by Jo Walton. This is a mash-up of a country house murder and an alternate history. It’s 1949 and Great Britain arranged a truce with the Third Reich which left most of the Continent in Hitler’s control so he could wage war on the Soviets. From my Goodreads review: “I had nightmares about fascism while reading this book, so I would say it had a powerful effect on me.”
The Spirit Lens, by Carol Berg. Complex high fantasy that is also, in some ways, a mystery. It’s not a potboiler and it’s a tad long, but I love Carol Berg’s ability to create worlds that feel real and solid. I recommend her to fans of Bujold, but I wouldn’t start with this series.
I tried The End of the World Running Club this morning, but don’t plan to finish. The premise is good, but the writing is just passable and I don’t feel any of the characters are realistic. Even those folks over at Goodreads weren’t crazy about it and they generally give everything a tongue-bath. sigh
Just finished Sam Kean’s Caesar’s Last Breath: Decoding the Secrets of the Air Around Us. It’s excellent, one of the best books I’ve read this year. Strongly recommended.
Just started Sleeping with the Fishes, by Mary Janice Davidson. I’ve never read anything by her before.
Killers of the Flower Moon: The Osage Murders and the Birth of the FBI, by David Grann.
In the 1920s, the Osage Tribe was wealthy beyond measure. It’s estimated that they were, per capita, the richest people in the world because they owned the mineral rights on their reservation. Then there was a series of murders and suspicious deaths; upwards of two dozen people were shot, blown to fragments, poisoned, or just disappeared. Investigations were haphazard and corrupt until the newly appointed director of the Bureau of Investigation, J. Edgar Hoover, sent his agents to look into the matter.
This book is about the Osage, the murders, and the investigation that led to the BOI becoming the FBI.
Ifinished A Thread Across the Ocean by John Steele Gordon today. Someone here - Elendil’s Heir maybe? - recommended it and it was quite as enjoyable as theysaid. The book is about the efforts to laythe first telegraph lines between England and North America. The book has enough detail to keep a lay reader interested without crossing over into techno-geekdom.
I finished Forged in Blood I the 6th EMperor’s Edge book by Lindsay Buroker. It was pretty good, however the improbability of Amaranthe’s cheme to impersonate a total stranger, while hoping that stranger’s own sister didn’t give the show away, just didn’t work for me. I had wayto many “Really???” moments.
Finished Gone Without A Trace, by Mary Torjussen. Another in the “my girlfriend/boyfriend/husband/wife is missing” but really good. I’m usually good at figuring out these plots, but I truly gasped out loud at the last chapter. Also reading **Overdressed : the shockingly high cost of cheap **fashion / Elizabeth L. Cline, about what is now called “fast fashion” or clothes that are made cheaply, quickly, and in response to fads. Really interesting.
A Season of Daring Greatly, by Ellen Emerson White. It can’t compare to her spectacular President’s Daughter series, but it’s a strong exploration of how it might feel to be the first woman drafted by MLB.
Are You There, God? It’s Me, Margaret, by Judy Blume. I never read this at the target age and got curious. It’s very cute, and I bet I would have loved it then. Now it’s pretty slight.
