I’m drained.
* * *
But preciouses make everything better.
Never mind that I already have sixty-something books on my TBR shelf. They no longer excite and/or intrigue me as the new shineys do. What can I say? I’m fickle.
Even Angelic Daughter, who has been slammed with tons of required reading as the school year draws to a close (fun stuff like Lois Lowry and Ayn Rand and Elie Wiesel) and as a result has decreed she is “never reading anything ever again,” squeed a little over Paper Towns. (She thought An Abundance of Katherines, also by John Green, was excellent. A huge change of pace from our usual reading material, but I have to agree.)
* * *
I will publicly display the most garish 80s heaving-bosom-and-Fabio book covers I can find with no shame, but being seen with a Victoria’s Secret catalogue makes me feel like I’ve been caught by my grandma watching goat/manatee porn. (I know such a thing exists without having to investigate—RULE 34.) Yes, I do in fact require the acquistion of a new brassiere. Yes, I was sitting in the privacy of my car. However, a completely unprecedented number of people walked by the car that day and conspicuously looked inside—which might have had something to do with the creepy lady hunched in a guilty fashion over a bunch of pictures of almost-naked women while parked outside a school.
Could have been worse. I could have been in a van, the official transportation of perverts.
* * *
Demon Dog peed on a toad last night. I’m pretty sure that’s the critical phase of some diabolical curse, which I’m pretty sure Demon Dog has enacted against me because I laughed at her fear of puddles. Not big puddles. Those are awesomely muddy. Not Lake Front Yard Because Florida Believes Stormwater Drainage Is For Sissies. That’s tremendous fun to dive into and bring as much as possible back into the house. No, she will stand a foot away from a puddle the size of a drink coaster, cowering and shaking as if an alligator is going to lunge out of it and bite her face off.
Our fearless protector. 
So if I disappear the next time it rains, assume I was eaten by a 3-inch-puddle alligator because my cocker spaniel put the Curse of the Pee Toad upon me.
* * *
I’m sure I’ll have the toad putting a curse on me, too, but how stupid do you have to be to sit there and get peed on? If a creature a hundred times my size stood over me, apparently oblivious to my presence, I like to think I would take the opportunity to sneak away while said creature was spinning around in a circle 20 times trying to find the optimum wind direction, squatting form, and bladder velocity.
The fact that the toad didn’t haul bumpy little ass proves it’s a conspiracy against me.
May 28th, 2010 at 10:39 PM
Can you tell me which of the new shinys are worth spending moolah on? I want to order a new book or three but need recs.
May 29th, 2010 at 3:03 AM
Hmm… I don’t know how similar our taste in books is, but I will spew many words at you nonetheless.
AngDot and I both endorse Ilona Andrews (so how can you go wrong?), but this particular new shiny is 5th in the series. Heroine is sort of magical law enforcement/problem solver in post-magical-destruction Atlanta. She has a TERRIBLE SECRET IDENTITY. There are magic flares, during which anything techy doesn’t work at all . The vampires are brainless undead “piloted” by remote users. The shapeshifters have their own strict hierarchy and disdain for magical law enforcing/problem solving types, which leads to a lot of fun butting heads between intrepid heroine and the head furry dude (as in, “LOL and have to read out loud for the benefit of other person in the room” fun). The secondary cast is well developed and not so huge that after a year between books I don’t know who any of these people are (which happens frequently when my bad memory meets character clutter). If you’re not completely put off by my lousy salespersonship, Book 1 is Magic Bites.
Kelly McCullough (Greek mythology and computer hacking mashed together = awesomesauce) and Shana Abe (dragon shapeshifters, pretty much the only historical thing I read, and intricate descriptions I must study because they don’t make my eyes glaze over for a change) are also both well into their respective series here, and not something you can dive into at Book 5 without being totally lost.
Many people seem to have moral issues with the heroine’s drug addiction in Unholy Ghosts. I’m only a few chapters in, but I can tell you it’s not casual use with an occasional mention you can overlook if it bothers you—it’s an every page, plot occurs because she has a big tab with her dealer kind of problem. I like Kane’s writing (another book of hers had me in tears a couple days ago), ghost-hunting witch in a gritty, corrupt world suits my interests, and I would much rather read about a deeply flawed character than a bland, inoffensive placeholder. (Also, I have no morals.) Your mileage may vary.
I grabbed Soulless (despite being historical—yuck! yucko! phooey!) because it sounds funny. For some reason, I see a drawing room with Audrey Hepburn and Rex Harrison when I read the back (with the appropriate pursed-lips British accent): “Alexia Tarabotti is laboring under a great many social tribulations. First, she has no soul. Second, she’s a spinster whose father is both Italian and dead. Third, she was rudely attacked by a vampire, breaking all standards of social etiquette.” Scandalous! And it has chapter subtitles (which I hear voiced by John Cleese): Chapter 3, Our Heroine Heeds Some Good Advice; Chapter 4, Our Heroine Ignores Some Good Advice. I haven’t read it yet, but it gets two thumbs up for tickling my fancy.
And I grabbed Mind Games because it sounds like the Justice League of Psychiatric Patients, channeling paranoia and hypochondria and OCD and whatnot into superpowers to battle evil! (About which I may be completely mistaken, but that is why I grabbed it. I don’t read reviews. I don’t trust recommendations. I impulse shop. I’m even a pantser when I READ.)
I think you said one of your kids liked the Percy Jackson books (yes? no? maybe so?). The Red Pyramid is by the same guy, this time with a brother-sister team and EGYPTIAN mythology. Haven’t read it yet, but that was an autobuy, since we liked Percy so much. And dooooooood—EGYPTIAN mythology. #tastetheawesome
/END SPEW/
May 29th, 2010 at 9:24 AM
Hmm. Soulless sounds awesome, I def need to check out Illona’s books, and I need to take a peek at the Kelly McCullough ones too, even though my childhood dentist was named McCullough which causes an instant knee-jerk Get Away From Me reaction somewhere in my stomach. I can get past that.
My oldest gobbled up the Percy Jackson series, but has approached this new series with reluctance because, as he explained to me, “I’m a Greek mythology guy. Not an Egyptian mythology guy.” I told him he might just need to read book one for comparison purposes only and that intrigued him, so we’ll see. This kid has VERY strict (and limited) tastes in fiction. He didn’t actually start reading fic until last year. Until then, I kid you not, he read non fic books on science and weather. I stopped trying to answer his scientific questions when he was three because he’d already outstripped my limited knowledge.
Anyway, you and I have similar tastes. I love urban fantasy that isn’t the usual stuff. I want characters who are flawed and interesting. I adore humor, but lyrical and dark is awesome too. I’ve started reading a ton of YA because genre rules don’t apply there and I’ve found so many more interesting projects that wouldn’t necessarily have found a place on adult mainstream shelves.
May 31st, 2010 at 3:07 PM
BREAKING NEWS: I gave up on Soulless on page 14 because the head-hopping was like repeated llama kicks to the head.
She was smoothing her clothing, and the dude was watching her, which the narrative indicated was unsurprising because she’d always had a smokin’ hot bod, and I was like, “Well, isn’t she a vain little tart,” but then she was like “What the deuce is he looking at?”, and I was like “What are you on about? You just said he was admiring your boo— Oh, you’ve got to be KIDDING me!”, but they weren’t. Back and forth and back and forth and back and forth. I actually got a little angry at that point, for what I think are obvious reasons.
Not even a snooty British accent could save it for me. Your mileage may vary.