I’ve got three things on the boil just now:
Last night before bed: Steelheart by Brandon Sanderson. I’ve been on a superhero / supervillain kick lately, and Sanderson crafts an interesting plot around the Epics, those who were gifted superpowers by a mysterious Calamity then use those powers for society-wide evil. David Charleston, a kid whose life was destroyed by uber-powerful Epic Steelheart, vows revenge and joins the Reckoners, an underground organization working to destroy the Epics. The action is better than the characterization as might be expected, but it’s still a page-turner in a compelling world.
During the daytime, I’m reading Lucky Jim by Kingsley Amis. It is every bit as funny as advertised, this tale of a medieval lecturer scrabbling to hold on to his post at a provincial university filled with the most appalling bores, back-stabbers, and one refreshingly honest girl from outside academia. I’m about halfway through and wish I could pop home from work RIGHT NOW to finish it.
In the car, I’m listening to the unabridged recording of H is for Hawk by Helen MacDonald. The plot can be described rather simply - a woman works through her grief at her father’s death whilst simultaneously training a goshawk, an hunting bird. This has gotten loads of acclaim, and rightfully so. Those bare narrative bones are clothed with a beautifully evocative flesh of description wherever MacDonald turns her gaze, whether she’s describing her goshawk, the landscape around her, or the strange phenomena innate to grieving.