I was there about a month ago; now I’m with the mercenary army of the Macht marching to battle the Emperor’s army near the Magron foothills in the heart of Kuf.
(The Ten Thousand by Paul Kearney)
Dun Juniper, Williamette Valley Oregon
December 6, CY22/2020 A.D.
I am sitting quietly and listening to Ingolf as he tells us how he came to the valley from the east.
- The Sunrise Lands, by S.M. Stirling*
I’m in the Imperial Constabulary in a small town called Gerrom. The room is filled with corpses. There are black pigeons sitting on the bodies, cooing quietly amongst themselves.
(Gardens of the Moon by Steven Erikson)
Reardon metal is being panned by non-independent scientists and putting the railroad at risk. Dagny is having a hard time with this.
(Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand)
I’m in current day England, watching Holly write an email that is a step toward adultery.
(Second Chance, Jane Green)
Speeding across the desert towards Las Vegas with Crane (aka The One-Eyed Jack), his 82 year old foster father Ozzie, and Mavranos, Crane’s alcoholic friend who is dying of cancer.
We are riding in a Suburban which is covered with deer whistles, bloody pennants, and playing cards. Why? Well, to camouflage ourselves from Crane’s real father, of course, who will soon be taking over Crane’s body as a result of a game played with Tarot cards many years ago on a boat. Seems there is something to Ozzie’s card-game superstitions after all…
–Last Call by Tim Powers
I’m just outside the Time Tombs, and Father Dure has just been resurrected. What is odd is that the corpse was that of Father Hoyt.
Meanwhile, the construct who may be the poet Keats is being exposed to all sorts of high-level military and political shenanigans.
The town of Avonlea, Prince Edward Island, Canada. Somewhere in the 1890s, I think.
I’m at a fete for Salvadore Dali in New York, a few years before America enters WWII. Joe’s upstairs, necking with the host’s daughter. Sam’s disturbed to discover that his own romantic interests might lie in an entirely unexpected direction. They’ve both just learned that the comic book superhero they created is being optioned for a radio serial, and that they’re not going to see a dime from the proceeds.
-The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay, Michael Chabon
I’m hiding in the Highlord’s chambers with Jame and Jorin. Outside, guards are searching for us on behalf of an enraged would-be sorceress, invisible Shadow Assassins are lurking, a demon is creeping toward the walls, and a wild wind that can blow away souls is rising. I pass the time by petting Jorin and watching Jame with trepidation, as she’s prone to making situations like this more complicated.
(Jorin is an ounce, by the way–a bit like a domesticated ocelot.)
-Seeker’s Mask, by P. C. Hodgell
I’m in Willowlands, at the House, with Mirasol and a whole bunch of books, thinking about what Fire Priests look like, and whether the twerp the Overlord has sent is going to really get to be the next Master.
Chalice, Robin McKinley.
Egdon Heath, first half of the 19th century. Eustacia Vye has just participated in the mummer’s play in disguise, in order to get a look at Clym Yeobright for the first time.
(Return of the Native, Thomas Hardy).
It’s 1944 and I’m in boot camp. Sergeant Reece is making my life miserable but I’m beginning to feel like a real soldier.
[The Collected Stories of Richard Yates – I won’t stay in one place for long]
The Tyrant is dead and the Bene Gesserit are concerned about the new Duncan Idaho ghola.
(Heretics of Dune - Frank Herbert)
Done with Elizabeth George’s latest. (it was ok).
On to Thomas Wolfe’s Look Homeward, Angel. I am skipping the introduction, but read the author’s note to the reader.