Wednesday, 16 July 2014

Dreaming of the weekend

Last night I stayed up too late reading book.  It left me absolutely buggered today.  Luckily, no one noticed.

I need a new inspiration poster.  It will feature a picture of two minute noodles.  It will read:  Dinner.  Some nights I just don't want to cook it.

I've now got all the episodes of Natsume Yuujinchou that there ever was.  Who ever thought to make a slice of life anime feature a boy who can see spirits?  Good stuff.

This weekend I am having some peeps come over and we're going to do a weekend of D&D because that's what city friends do when they drive 4 hours to a seaside town known for it's close-encounter whale watching and calm, pristine beaches.  I'm excited, but I wonder if my house is equip to host guests.  I've got enough beds, I think.  But not enough seats.  Don't look too closely - there's no logic there.

I'm also thinking about entering the July Labyrinth Writing Contest.

Monday, 14 July 2014

A New Book

And now I'm reading The Lies of Locke Lamora by Scott Lynch.  Same rules apply - if not completely depressing,  I shall review!  It's pretty kick-ass so far.

And still, it snows.

I think I've done my back again.  Heatpack for the win.  Man, I'm getting old.

I said something about reviewing the Children of the Black Sun series if I got the the end and it wasn't completely depressing, I'd write about it.  And guess what?  It wasn't depressing (aka not everyone dies).

Winter Be My Shield, the first book, was everything that the shopgirl at Dymocks promised.  Action, adventure, gritty magic, and a female lead whose main purpose is more than just the canvas for a which-boy-will-i-pick dilemma.  Definitely recommended reading - Jo does a great job at creating a winter wonderland (the word 'wonderland' is probably misleading here because the land is pretty damn harsh).  This would be my favourite book in the series.

Second book, Black Sun Light My Way, takes a bit of a detour into what I have crudely summarized as 'torture games', which is not my favourite bedtime reading.  But then again, what else to expect from a title that references a black sun?

North Star Guide Me Home has more cheer aloud moments (which I am all for) and the magic really starts getting cool.  The books introduce a really interesting conceptualization of family and romantic relationships.  It made me squirm in 1 and 2, and I didn't quite get it until this third installment.  Then it was all 'awwww' and fuzzy wuzzies.

The scene stealer of the series is a blood mage called Rasten who is pretty hardline evil, but endears himself by being the most forthright, takes-no-shit character of the series.  If I had to dislike something about the book, it would be (without giving anything away too much) that there were too many babies.

Wednesday, 2 July 2014

Alcohol doesn't actually warm people up... does it?

The last few days have been painfully cold.  I can't remember the last time my feet were warm.  I'm still procrastinating on taking that shower because I don't want to strip.  If anything, I should be putting more clothes on.  I should be wearing a grizzly bear.  That's how cold it is.  Even as I type this, I can hear my brethren in Tasmania laugh at me.  I can feel half chewed pieces of apple splat across my face in contempt.  Laugh, oh you southern dwellers, but this is cold weather for Queensland.

Things have been crazy lately.  Actually, when was the last time things weren't crazy?  I am behind on my promise to have Wolfie's stuff read and back to him.  I've got 30 pages to read.  The story itself is awesome, and scary, but mostly awesome.  It's just hard to read on computers.  So many....

Squirrel!



Talking about squirrels, I have been rather inactive on fictionpress, and I thought I might take to fleshing out Woodsman.  Here's what I've written so far: 

The markets in Hastington shrank with each passing year as the Black Forest grew to claim the settlements in the area.  Still, there was business enough even for a young woodsman like Stephen Theiss, who, at fifteen, still hadn’t quite finished growing into the man he would become.  His dark brown locks fell to his eyes and curled around his wide eyes were the colour of moss on bark.  He was lean, but well built to survive the forest, and wore a coat of rusty coloured fur over a simple tunic and breeches to ward against the morning chill.