Sharp Words

Daemons are Forever, Simon Green. Library book, first read.
An intriguing premise, with a family of supernatural secret agents trying to protect the world, with some good dollops of humour, but it was trying to bit too hard and was a bit too much in love with itself.

The Skies of Pern, Anne McCaffrey. Own copy.
One of the later Pern books, and definitely not one of the best although it has some nice touches. Mostly I just read it because it was on the shelf in front of my exercise bike, and I’d only read it a couple of times before.

The Golden Key, Melanie Rawn, Kate Elliott and Jennifer Roberson. Own copy.
Two of my favourite authors contributed to this big fat collaborative fantasy novel, and for the first time, I thought I could hear their separate voices in the different sections: more like subtle flavours than anything shriekingly obvious, thankfully.

Pushing Ice, Alistair Reynolds. Library book, first read.
Another SF author recommended to me by a few people (who had also recommended Banks). The story starts off with one of Saturn’s moon deciding to head off by itself into outer space, chased by an ice-mining ship, and never ever lets up from that point on. Its umpteen twists of character and encounters kept me enthralled (and I ended up getting very wrinkly in the bath).

The Ghost, Robert Harris. Library book, first read.
I’d missed this somewhere along the line, though I’ve read most of Harris’s work, and only heard about it because it’s now a film (The Ghost Writer with Pierce Brosnan and Ewan McGregor). It’s a good thriller, about a ghost writer putting together the memoirs of an ex-British Prime Minister (based on Tony Blair).

The Doomsday Key, James Rollins. Library book, first read.
Oh dear. I’ve noticed over the past few Sigma Force novels that Rollins has been headed into Dan Brown territory both in plot and writing style, and with this novel, he’s sadly nearly there. A lot of the characterisation that I liked in previous novels has disappeared entirely; he doesn’t even bother to make much use of his characters’ back stories even though there’s more than ample scope to do so. I enjoyed it, of course, but it was the literary equivalent of squirty cream from a can.

The Eyre Affair, Lost in a Good Book, The Well of Lost Plots and Something Rotten, Jasper Fforde. Own copies.
My annual re-read, and I can’t be bothered to say anything about this series of novels, except that if you like classic literature and have a bent for the whimsical, then you should read them.

Total for February 2010: 10 + 0 re-reads
Ongoing total for 2010: 26 + 0 re-reads

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7 out of 10

Just as with my readings and review of Jim’s first novel, Living with the Truth, it’s taken me ages to get round to re-reading this one and writing the review. Sorry Jim… One of my excuses is that it’s not the type of book you read twice in a hurry (actually, the number of books that I do read twice in a hurry has diminished greatly in recent years).

Anyway, no more apologies, no more regrets. On to a synopsis of sorts, and my review.

Jonathan Payne, the vaguely unpleasant but remarkably sympathetic protagonist of Living with the Truth, is dead. This might not sound like the most obvious way to start a novel – especially when Jonathan is its central character – but stick with it. He starts his first day in the afterlife in pretty much the same mundane way as he started his days in life… at least until he finds a note from Truth, informing him of his new circumstances. After a life of relative dullness – apart from those couple of days he spent with Truth – Jonathan’s death is actually rather interesting.

I’nm trying to avoid spoilers, but I don’t think it’s unreasonable to say that the universe itself has died, and Jonathan has been ‘woken up’ several billion years after he lived, before the universe is restarted so the whole cycle can begin again. The Dunameon (Truth, Destiny, Fate, and all the rest) have been given the task of interviewing everyone who ever lived, to try and figure out what improvements can be made this time around, and although Jonathan is lucky(?) enough to have Truth as his guide through the afterlife, he also gets to meet some of the members of the Dunameon (the 60s-stuck Fate is my favourite).

Jonathan also gets to meet some very significant figures from his own life. Most, but not all, are extrapolations of his own memories, and it’s quite informative about Jonathan’s own character to see what he considers important about them.

I really don’t feel I can go into more detail about the story without ruining some of its little surprises. So I’ll wrap this up by saying that there’s a lot of charm in this novel and its not-so-charming protagonist; there’s gentle humour, and a solid understanding of character and humanity. It fits perfectly as a companion piece to Living with the Truth – actually, the two books felt to me like halves of a single work – and it’s a great shame that these novels seem hard to categorise, because I worry that people just won’t find them.

So in conclusion: if you’ve read Living with the Truth, then you should read Stranger than Fiction… but if you haven’t, then you should read them both. Soon.

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He wanted everything: marriage, babies, death do us part. She didn’t, and left him.

Five years later, an accidental meeting. She was single by choice; he had never got over her. A friendly coffee turned into dinner, wine and back to his.

Three days later, he bought new flagstones for his garden.

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Diamond Mask and Magnificat, Julian May. Own copies.
The rest of the excellent Galactic Milieu trilogy. I really should look up some of her more recent work.

The Redbreast, Jo Nesbø. Library book, first read.
I read this Norwegian crime novel on recommendation; it was excellent (and much credit goes to the translator too); the story was gripping, and I was made to care about the characters.

The State of the Art, Iain M Banks. Christmas present, first read.
A selection of Banks’ short stories, some of which (mostly the Culture-related ones) I liked a lot more than others.

Living with the Truth and Stranger than Fiction, Jim Murdoch. Own copies.
My review of Living with the Truth from August 2008… and yes, I still need to write the review of Stranger than Fiction – coming soon, I promise.

Wintersmith, Terry Pratchett. Own copy.
A light read, picked because of the snow still lying on the ground outside.

Spirit Gate, Shadow Gate, and Traitors’ Gate, Kate Elliott. 1 & 2 – own copies; 3 – library book.
Since I finally had all of this Crossroads trilogy to hand, I read the books one after the other, and not too quickly.  Simply? Kate Elliott writes damn good fantasy fiction. I know her Crown of Stars series can put people off – 7 books! with so many characters and plot strands!- but this trilogy is definitely worthy of its shelf-space.

Odalisque, Emissary, and Goddess, Fiona McIntosh. Library books, first reads.
Decent light fantasy, with an interesting Istanbul-inspired setting, but after reading the excellence of Elliott’s Crossroads trilogy, this just felt fluffy.

Smoke and Mirrors and Fragile Things, Neil Gaiman. Own copies.
I wanted something short to read in the bath, so took Smoke and Mirrors with me, and just read my favourites from this short story collection (including Murder Mysteries and Snow, Glass, Apples). Of course, greedy as I am, that wasn’t enough for me, and I ended up reading both collections over a few days, missing out only a handful of stories and poems.

Moreta: Dragonlady of Pern and Nerilka’s Story, Anne McCaffrey. Own copies.
A nostalgia fest. I feel a bit weird about reading McCaffrey these days for several reasons:
1) she’s really gone off the boil in the past decade
2) her books can be seen as pretty damn clichéd, and frankly in some parts, they’re not that good
3) I’ve suffered total Pern-overload over the years, what with playing on multiple text-based online roleplaying games.
But the novels are familiar friends; Moreta was always a favourite; and they’re on the shelf right in front of my exercise bike so were perfectly positioned for when I needed something to read while cycling.

Total for January 2010: 16 + 0 re-reads

Ongoing total for 2010: 16 + 0 re-reads

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Frequent readers will know that rogue apostrophes (for example, in it’s as a possessive, or else used in a plural) make my teeth hurt.

But lately, I’ve been driving regularly past a sign that on first glance appears to have a rogue apostrophe… but on second glance just might be right, if for the wrong reason.

It’s one of those solar-powered screen signs at the side of the road, with information about roadworks. Its first screen displays:

TRAFFIC CONTROL AHEAD

Its second screen shows:

QUEUE’S LIKELY

And it’s been bothering me a bit, since the more usual phrasing is queues likely. But then why? Why more than one queue? There’s only one line of traffic in each direction trying to get past the traffic lights, so that’s only one queue. Well, alright, there’s another in the opposite direction, but I’m not interested in that one since it’s not the direction I’m travelling in.

So having a sign that reads QUEUE’S LIKELY – in other words, queue is likely – seems to be almost right…

Or maybe it’s just me.

PS – When I titled my last post ‘Back Briefly’, I didn’t mean that I was only back for one post and then gone again for another long while (at least, I hope not)… It was just meant to be a reference to it being Microfiction Monday.

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