carbonel

Sometimes coincidence works very pleasantly.

A couple of weeks ago, I decided a wanted to reread Lifelode. I own the print book, but the text is just a bit small for my aging eyes, so I checked if there was an e-book version available for a reasonable price. There wasn't one listed, nor was it available from the library in e-book version. So I figured that it had just never happened, sighed a bit, and went on.

Several days ago, I bought something from Amazon and said that I didn't need it in a hurry, and was willing to wait, for which Amazon said it would give me a $3 digital credit.

Yesterday, the digital credit notification showed up.

Today, the package arrived. And since I have a bad habit of forgetting to use credits, I pulled up Jo's list of books at Amazon, intending to pre-order her forthcoming book Or What You Will. But instead, at the top of the list, was Lifelode with a $2.99 price tag and a publishing date of March 24, 2020 by Is There A Green Iguana? So I now have a $.01 credit at Amazon and a copy of Lifelode that I can read in whatever size and font I want.

And I'm posting about it, since I assume I'm not the only person who is very pleased with this opportunity.

(The icon above is the "F" one I received from Jo a few years ago. I don't use it often, but it's certainly appropriate here.)

rachelmanija challenged her readers to discuss the productions we've seen. I replied there, but after most of the discussion had fizzled, and I'm posting it again here.

It wasn't part of the original remit, but as long as I'm doing the work of writing this all up, I'm going to include the movie versions I've seen as well, so I have a record. I have a copy of the complete BBC Shakespeare series, but so far I haven't made much progress in working through these. Too little time, too many things to watch.

Once upon a time (mostly in the 1990s), there was a local bunch of fans that had a play-reading group that took parts and read a play once a month. We started out with Shakespeare, but ended up with others as well. We did go through all of the canonical plays. After John M. Ford moved to Minneapolis, he joined the group and added immensely to the level of reading quality. So even though I haven't seen all the plays, I have been exposed to the text of all of them in a semi-dramatic setting. And, alas, promptly forgotten a number of them.

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As You Like It: I've watched the Japanese-themed Kenneth Branagh version of this one. It's a terrible mish-mash of Japanese culture and settings shoved into English mores -- but that sort of thing is true of much of Shakespeare.

The Comedy of Errors: I've seen a live production of The Boys from Syracuse, which I didn't particularly enjoy. I have a vague memory that it was a school project, and we also watched ACoE, but I can't attest to that.

Hamlet: I'm not sure I've ever seen a live performance of this. The closest I've come was the BBC recording of the Derek Jacobi/Patrick Stewart version, which I saw on public televison in my teens (at least, that's how my memory goes; the DVD dates from 1980, but perhaps the TV version was earlier). But the play-reading group did it several times, and there was a period where I rented a bunch of different versions from Netflix. I've seen the uncut Branagh version twice -- once in an actual movie theater (I don't go to many movies, so this is notable) and more recently at home. I also saw the Mel Gibson version in a movie theater. Bleah -- no scenery left unchomped. It did have a sterling supporting cast, though. I saw the Olivier version as part of my 4-star movie- watching project. That may have been the most romantic Hamlet I remember. I watched the David Tennant/Patrick Stewart version, and remember it as solid but not much stood out for me. The Ethan Hawke version was surprisingly good, though that may be because I had zero expectations for it. I saw the very slashy one with Martin Shaw on a terrible video copy. As Pamela says, it was cut to the bone, but it was quite well done for being a shoestring production.

Henry IV: Some time ago (the 1990s?) the Guthrie did a connected version of Richard II, Henry IV (both parts combined), and Henry V, in which the actors played the same parts throughout, though the costuming was modern in the last one. I don't remember the name of the actor who played Prince Hal/Henry V, but he was stellar in both roles -- and had the most amazing thigh-high boots as Prince Hal. Yum. (I'm not normally shallow that way, but I made an exception that time.) I never got to the marathon three- plays-in-a-day performances, but I saw all three of them at least twice and possibly three times. Henry IV part I was also the first complete Shakespeare play I read in school; it was either in 8th grade or freshman English. I didn't think much of it then, but it improved later.

Henry V: The Guthrie production, two or three times. This one was in modern dress. The horses in the battle scenes were two-wheel carts, and the tennis balls were modern sproingy ones that were allowed to bounce all over the place. It was great. But the 1989 Kenneth Branagh movie was the one I really imprinted on. I've seen that one at least five times. It's still my favorite of the history plays. I also saw the much-cut Olivier version, with all its resonances to WWII, as part of my 4-star movie project.

Henry VI: Only in the play-reading group. It's all Neil Gaiman's fault that we were unable to get past the "bad revolting stars" like without snickering.

Julius Caesar: I'm pretty sure I saw a London production of this during one of my trips to England, possibly at the Barbican. Don't remember much about it, though. We read this in school, I think in freshman English. I do wonder why they were so heavy on the history plans early on.

King Lear: Okay, this one I have very vivid memories of. I was in London for business some number of years ago, and saw a production at the Globe, as a groundling. I had possibly the best location -- can't say "seat" -- in the house, standing right in front of the stage. It rained through most of the production, but I had a good poncho and was reasonably comfortable, though my feet did get tired. It was amazing. I especially remember what a fine job the Fool did. I believe it was also Lear that Pamela and I watched (at the Barbican?) after having survived a sudden rainstorm to get our seats. I sent Pamela to stand under a tree while I waited in line, but the generous impulse backfired: someone offered to share an umbrella with me, so I was only damp, but she got soaked under her insufficient tree.

Macbeth: We had a class trip to see the exceedingly gory 1971 Roman Polanski version. The phrase “filmed in living gore” was often used to describe it. I think I watched a DVD version of that much later just to see the Martin Shaw parts. The movie poster (and DVD cover) always made me want to lecture someone about knife safety. The Merchant of Venice: I saw a modern-dress version of this at the behest of Eileen Lufkin, who organized the expedition. It was at a local theater, and the thing I remember best was the opening, where all the characters are talking on their cell phones, spreading the news of the Rialto. It know it is "of its time," but there is so much I hate about the antisemitism of this play that I really can't be objective about it.

The Merry Wives of Windsor: I've never seen a theatrical version of it, but I did see the opera Falstaff at the Lyric Opera in Chicago. One of the very few operas I've seen that didn't have a pile of bodies at the end.

A Midsummer Night's Dream: There was a production at the Guthrie that went way overboard with decorating the stage and the entire theater as a glorious colorful fantasy forest. I went to see that one at least twice, possibly three times. This was also the one that had the rude mechanicals as classic outstate Minnesotans, ala Fargo. I loved that production for the visuals and the acting. Years later, there was another production of the same play at the Guthrie, and I just couldn't warm to it the same way, even though it was perfectly competent.

Much Ado about Nothing: Irrelevant bit of personal trivia: for years, I could not hold the title of this play in my brain -- I'd have to refer to it as "the Beatrice and Benedick one." I'd look it up or someone would remind me, and then it would fizzle away. And then I encountered a parody mashup (which might have involved Star Trek as well) entitled "Mik Ado about Nothing," and that I could remember. Problem solved. Anyway, I have seen at least one live performance of it, but I don't remember where (or much else about it). I've seen both the Kenneth Branagh and Joss Whedon film versions. The former was more standard (and quite enjoyable, except for Michael Keaton), although I wanted to shoot Robert Sean Leonard (which I suppose is a mark of how well he played the part); but the Whedon one was fascinating for the ways it played against standard. (Good grief -- Netflix says that was made in 2012. I would have said 2015 or 2016 if forced to guess. Time keeps a-slipping.)

Othello: I've seen the opera Otello, but no actual theatrical performances of the play. I did watch the Olivier film version as part of my 4-star movie project, but there was much eye-rolling on my part -- not just for the blackface but also for the made-up accent. Pericles: The main takeaway from our play-reading group was the line about not believing the lost girl is alive (paraphrased): "She has to be dead; I threw her overboard with my own hands!"

Richard II: As mentioned above, I saw this several times at the Guthrie as one of the history plays trilogy. The actor playing Richard was stupendous, and I cried every time, even though I know the play was kinder to him than history showed he deserved.

Richard III: Never seen a live version, but I've watched the Ian McKellan film version. (I missed the live version of that when it came to Minneapolis.) That's an amazing job of making an alternate universe story out of the fixed text.

Romeo and Juliet: I was thirteen years old when the Franco Zeffirelli movie came out, and we went to see it as a school expedition. The teachers repeatedly pointed out that Juliet was the same age we were. I'm not sure if this was a suggestion that we should act as mature as her or that a warning not to behave so dramatically. But that movie was everywhere that year. Posters, people quoting, discussions about whether it was appropriate for preteens (because of mild nudity), and that theme, which you couldn't escape. I learned how to play it on the piano, and did so until my parents begged me to desist. I saw it again years later when it was on TV, and it was still beautiful, but didn't have the same effect. I think I saw a local theater live version of it, but don't remember specifics.

The Tempest: Last month, I watched the Julie Taymor film where Helen Mirren plays Prospera, so it's still fresh in my mind. The staging on this is fantastic, especially considering that it was a comparatively low-budget production. It got mixed reviews, but I thought it was an impressive and well-acted version. On a friend's recommendation, I've acquired a copy of Prospero's Books (which is Tempest-adjacent), but I haven't watched it yet.

Twelfth Night: I saw a theatrical version of this in Chicago, possibly at the Goodman Theater. There was a very good Malvolio, played more as clueless than conniving. This is also one that our play-reading group did quite often; someone often suggested it as the December play, and it broke down well into parts for our group.

The Winter's Tale: I had not been terribly impressed when our play-reading group did this, but then I saw a production at the Guthrie that blew me away. I don't remember the name of the woman who played Hermione, but she was what made it memorable for me. It was a black actress, which was never mentioned in the script, but the sidelong glances and alienation as she was accused of infidelity added such depth.

OBDisclaimer: I have met David several times over the years; I'd say we're friendly acquaintances. I've enjoyed many of his short stories; he has a nicely readable writing style, and I hope he keeps writing. It's just this book that didn't work for me.

I just finished reading Arabella of Mars, and I mentioned my issues with it to a few people. At least two of them said, "Oh, yeah, I remember mrissa had problems with that one." Which she did, here. I was going to make some comments there, but decided to make my own post instead.

Issues, I got them. (Spoilers abound.)

First of all, I don't remember why I put this book on hold at the library. Maybe it was the push that the Tor blog gave it? I'd assumed it was from one of James Nicoll's reviews, but no -- when I went to reread his review, I discovered he'd never reviewed it.

mrissa did a fine job of covering the sexism fail, so I'll mostly leave that one alone.

And the entire steampunk setting, with atmosphere between the planets and asteroids with trees growing on them gets an eyeroll but a pass, because that's the one total implausibility that that the entire book is built around.

Leaving all that aside, there's the villain. And what a very convenient villain he is, too. He carefully explains to Arabella just how awful his life is because of his position as second son (Arabella's uncle) and his choice of bad investments. So when Arabella accidentally lets it drop that it might be affordable for him to hock the family silver and run off to Mars to kill her brother (her father, the previous heir, being conveniently dead), he does so -- and when he gets caught in the process of running away, he monologues to justify his necessity.

The next time we see him, he has heroically saved the life of said brother (the villain's nephew), at a time when it would have been entirely plausible to let him die. Not kill him, mind you, just let him die. But he saves him. It might be because he needed the brother the guide both of them to safety, but the impression I got in the book was that he saved him because he wanted the brother to think well of him.

Eventually the villain dies in the process of trying to make Arabella the scapegoat for the villain's own evil deeds. He waffles between actively evil, wishy-washy, and wanting to be a good guy. This could be the interesting depiction of a complex character, but it reads like the description of someone who acts however he needs to for the plot to do what the author wants.

Then there's the ending. Arabella is required to marry immediately, so that (best I can tell) she can produce a son so that the son plus the brother (who is currently in fragile health) can break the entail so that Arabella and her mother and sisters won't be left penniless. Er, what? I read the last few pages a couple of times, and it still made no sense to me. The obvious option in most Regency books would be for Arabella to make a brilliant marriage to a wealthy suitor support her family. Here, the need for a marriage seems to be externally imposed to provide an incentive for Arabella to propose to someone who might otherwise be deemed unsuitable because he's foreign and the wrong skin color (which was also the excuse for a mutiny earlier in the book).

In short, this book doesn't (as I'd hoped) play with the standard tropes of SF and Regency romance to produce something new. Instead, it depends on some of the worst of default assumptions about race and gender to produce a flabby book with an interesting but unbelievable setting.

Ben Aaronovitch's latest Rivers of London book, The Hanging Tree, just came out -- in England. The eBook is available for sale at amazon.co.uk.

But for people with US IP addresses, it's not available until January at amazon.com.

Bah.

Want it now.

First of all, I'm not talking about The Long Winter by Laura Ingalls Wilder, which is my favorite of the Little House books. This is The Long Winter by John Christopher.

papersky talks about John Christopher as being one of the masters of the "cozy catastrophe," which I guess is like a cozy -- or should that cosy, since it's British? -- mystery, only with more death.

Anyway, The Long Winter, published in 1962, starts in an England where the sun has abruptly damped down and, as a result, the entire country has pretty much frozen over, with sea ice out five miles or so.

What I expected was a book about the people learning to keep calm and carry on -- huddling in groups for warmth, sharing food, stiff upper lip, and all that. Instead, what I got was a book about infidelity, running away to Nigeria, and the Nigerians invading England because, um, they could. Plus lots of visits by the race and sexism fairy.

I'm pretty sure I read the beginning of this book at one point, but I definitely didn't finish it, because the abandonment of England came as a surprise, even though it was foreshadowed on the first page. Possibly book met wall at the original reading. In any case, I can't really recommended this except as a historical piece, though it did possess the "I want to keep reading this" magic that kept me going until I finished it this time around.

1. The Yuletide reveal has happened, and there are many fine stories. My story was written very much with the requester's prompt in mind, and is total crack. It's set in an alternate universe version of Valdemar, specifically during the Last Herald Mage era. The title is "Paying the Price."

2. I had planned to watch all four NFL wild card games, but apparently the Cardinals-Panthers game is on some obscure subsidiary ESPN channel that my DirecTV subscription doesn't carry. This is the first downside I've had to the rearranging of my service that cut my monthly payment almost in half, from $98 to $53. Still slightly grumpy about it though, especially since this is the one game of the four that isn't available via live streaming, either.

3. My bathroom book project has taken me to C.J. Cherryh's Faded Sun trilogy, which I've owned for a long time, but never read. I have slogged through the first 25 or so pages, and it is starting to become more enjoyable and less work. I hope this will continue to improve. I keep snickering at a clan with the name of "Intel." Even in 1978, this was probably about as poor a choice as Guy Kay's naming a character "Aileron."

4. I finally ordered a light box -- the portable studio kind, not the seasonal affective disorder kind -- and have hopes of getting decent photos of my yarn. Next step after that will be a for-sale website. That's a major goal for 2015.

5. There is an orange bag, made of that weird material that feels halfway between paper and cloth, that has been sitting, probably with feline assistance, on the floor in my hallway, where it has no business being. Morwen, for some reason, has decided that it is now the cat bed. Nine times out of ten, when I pass that spot in the hallway, there is a small black cat curled up asleep on the orange bag. She's very cute there and looks quite happy, but eventually I'm going to have to pick the bag up and put it away somewhere.

The last time I did this was at the end of June, so I'm mostly declaring bankruptcy, except for the series stuff.

What I've read lately (for very generous definitions of "lately"):

Wyrd Sisters, Guards, Guards!, Eric, Moving Pictures, Reaper Man, Witches Abroad, Small Gods, and Lords and Ladies, all by Terry Pratchett, all as audiobooks in the car or while exercising. These are all rereads (relistens?), but there are a number of the later books I haven't read.

Blood Rites, Dead Beat, Proven Guilty, and white Night, by Jim Butcher. The sixth through ninth of the Harry Dresden books.

The Lion Hunter and The Empty Kingdom, by Elizabeth Wein. The duology that follows her Arthurian trilogy.

Point of Hopes, by Melissa Scott and Lisa Barnett -- a reread for the A Good Read panel at Farthing Party.

Sleeping in Flame, by Jonathan Carroll, read for the A Good Read panel. This is a modern urban fantasy with a lot of magical realism elements, structured around the Rumplestiltskin story. Not my usual sort of thing, but I enjoyed it until I was about 25 pages from the end, at which point it kind of fell apart, IMO.

The Drowned Life, by Jeffrey Ford, read for the A Good Read panel. Very good writing that is mostly Not My Thing. It was too far over on both the horror and magical realism spectrums for my taste, though I did enjoy a few of the stories.

Expendable, by James Alan Garner, read for the A Good Read panel. I quite enjoyed this one. I liked the main character and her development through the novel. The actual plot felt contrived in places, but I galloped through the whole thing and was sorry when I was done. I'll probably check out a couple of other books in the series, which I understand share a background, but no characters.

Scored, by Lauren McLaughlin. One of the YA ARCs from last year's Wiscon. (I didn't pick up any this year, partly because of the backlog and partly because I arrived too late to the convention.) I started this last night, and finished it this morning, which goes to show that it's a fast and compelling read. Which makes me all the more sad that the author didn't stick the landing. There's supposed to be a climactic scene at the end, and it all happens offstage, in favor of the main character spending her time kissing someone. And even that isn't enough. It's a micro resolution for a macro problem, as set up in the book. It came out in 2011, and if there's a sequel planned, there's no sign of it online. So, recommended with reservations.

Battle Cry, by Leon Uris, as a kitchen book. Finished quite a while ago, but included for completeness.

The Bronze Bow, by Elizabeth George Speare, as a kitchen book. This was a Newbery Medal winner that had been sitting on my bookshelf but which I'd never read. Deals with a Jewish rebel in Judea during the life of Jesus Christ.

Abandoned:

The Arm and the Darkness, by Taylor Caldwell. Set during the time of Cardinal Richelieu, and it fell victim to the Eight Deadly Words around 100 pages in.

What I'm currently reading:

Small Favor, by Jim Butcher, on the iPhone. The tenth Harry Dresden book.

Men at Arms, by Terry Pratchett, as a car/exercise audiobook. This is the first one that's new to me; the others were all rereads.

The Glory and the Lightning, by Taylor Caldwell, as a bathroom book. Another historical, this time about Pericles and Aspasia. It's really remarkable how many of her characters all espouse the same opinions about things, no matter what historical period they're set in.

Survive the Unthinkable, by Tim Larkin. A self-help book for dealing with violence against women, written in that Yes! You! Can! style found in self-improvement books. It was a present from sethb via lydy.

The Egypt Game, by Zilpha Keatley Snyder. Current kitchen book.

What I plan to read:

More Dresden Files, on the iPhone.

Glamour in Glass, by Mary Robinette Kowal.

Starglass, by Phoebe North. I wish I could remember where I heard of this book. It's about to be available from the library hold I placed on it a month ago.

More books from the pile by the bedside.

More Discworld books for car/exercise audio.

Not sure what the next bathroom book will be, but it will not be a Taylor Caldwell book.

Once again, this is a catch-up post. It looks kind of boring to me, partly because I've immersed myself in so many series, so all I have to offer is "the next book of X."

What I've read lately:

Mort, Sourcery, and Pyramids, all by Terry Pratchett, all as audiobooks in the car or while exercising. These are all rereads (relistens?), but there are a number of the later books I haven't read.

Summer Knight and Death Masks, by Jim Butcher. The fourth and fifth of the Harry Dresden books.

The Sunbird, by Elizabeth Wein. Sequel to The Winter Prince and A Coalition of Lions, and has pretty much shucked the Arthurian veneer it started with. This book completes the first trilogy. I have the other two books from the library, but keep getting distracted by Harry Potter fanfic.

Jurgen, by James Branch Cabell, as a bathroom book. This one is definitely the most Heinleinesque -- and picaresque, for that matter. I think I've read as much Cabell as I need to for quite a while.

Lots of Harry Potter fan fiction, none of which I shall burden you with. If anyone is actually interested, or wants recs, we can talk.

What I'm currently reading:

Battle Cry, by Leon Uris, as a kitchen book. Almost to the end, but I haven't been spending much time in the kitchen.

Blood Rites, by Jim Butcher, on the iPhone. The sixth Harry Dresden book.

Wyrd Sisters, by Terry Pratchett, as a car/exercise audiobook.

The Arm and the Darkness, by Taylor Caldwell. It's one of the historical ones, set during the time of Cardinal Richelieu. Just started this one, and am not falling into it the way I have for others of Taylor Caldwell's books. I think I'll give it 100 pages, and chuck it if I'm still not drawn in.

Best Erotic Fantasy & Science Fiction, edited by Cecilia Tan and Bethany Zaiatz. This has been on hiatus while I've been going through the current Harry Potter fanfic binge, but I do plan to get back to it.

What I plan to read:

More Dresden Files, on the iPhone.

The two remaining Elizabeth Wein books from the library.

A book on dyeing that I bought, and one on spinning different types of yarns from the library. The latter I probably need to buy my own copy of.

More books from the pile by the bedside.

More Discworld books for car/exercise audio.

What I've read lately:

Wizards, an anthology of wizard-related stories from the pile by the bedside. Lots of name authors, mostly enjoyable stories.

The Scalzi Subterranean Super Bundle, a collection of John Scalzi chapbooks in e-book format. Read on the iPad. Mostly short stories, plus book mostly about the business of writing, entitled You're Not Fooling Anyone When You Take Your Laptop to a Coffee Shop. Reasonably enjoyable, except for "The God Engines," which was depressingly peopled pretty much entirely by unsympathetic characters. Since that's very much not Scalzi's usual style, I kept wondering if there was some snarky joke that I was missing somewhere. If there was, I'm still missing it.

Not exactly a book, but I finished listening to a radio theater version of the seven Narnia books. These are produced by a Christian publisher, but they're quite faithful adaptations of the books, which is all I care about. They were my driving/exercise listening for a few weeks.

What I'm currently reading:

carried over from last week:
Battle Cry, by Leon Uris, as a kitchen book
The Silver Stallion, by James Branch Cabell, as a bathroom book. Another 30 or so pages to go.

Owlflight, by Mercedes Lackey, on the iPhone. I listened to this as an audiobook several years ago, but was in a mood to read the books as actual books. I'm about halfway through.

The Rhino with Glue-On Shoes: And Other Surprising True Stories of Zoo Vets and their Patients, edited by Lucy H. Spelman and Ted Y. Mashima. From guppiecat; it was the next bedside book I grabbed. Enjoyable animal anecdote fluff.

I'm currently listening to an amateur podcast of a favorite Harry Potter novel, Transfigurations, by Resonant. The actual reading is just fine, but the audio quality is poor enough that I keep thinking about giving up on it.

What I plan to read:

Jurgen, by James Branch Cabell, once I finish The Silver Stallion.

Owlsight and Owlknight, by Mercedes Lackey, on the iPhone.

More books from the pile by the bedside. I think Tanya Huff's The Wild Ways is next.

I think for car/exercise audio, I'm going to embark on a project of listening to all the Discworld books. That should keep me occupied for the next year or so.

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Morwen is now two weeks post-surgery, and seems to be completely recovered. She had the stitches removed on Tuesday, and is eating normally. And today, as I was spinning at the wheel, she grabbed a big mouthful of roving, and tried to run away with it. Sheesh -- no learning behavior whatsoever.

What I've read lately:

Danse de la Folie, by Sherwood Smith (sartorias), as an iPhone book. It continued enjoyable but not at all transgressive -- it followed the mode of the genre rather than playing with it. Someone pointed out that it might have been written considerably earlier in her career, despit the fact that I just discovered it.

Tortall and Other Lands, by Tamora Pierce, on the iPad. Short stories, mostly but not all set in the land of Tortall. I'd read one of the stories in a Sharyn November anthology. I didn't like it then, and I still didn't on reread. I'm not sure why; maybe because it was too over the top in both the antagonists and the rescuer. Also, unlike much of Pierce's other work, it seemed to totally gloss over the fact that this was amazingly dysfunctional stuff going on that has long-term effects, not just a bad-dream sort of speedbump. General impression of the book was that it was enjoyable, didn't add significantly to the Tortall canon.

Gate of Ivory, by Doris Egan. Yes, at long last, I tackled the brick (the 3-book paperback is almost 800 pages), and started again at the beginning. Just as well that I did, since I had misremembered some events of the first book as happening in the second book. I really liked this, though there's one critical scene near the end where after several rereads I still can't exactly figure out how the thing that happened actually happened.

What I'm currently reading:

carried over from last week:
Battle Cry, by Leon Uris, as a kitchen book
The Silver Stallion, by James Branch Cabell, as a bathroom book. The sequel to Figures of Earth. I'm dfinitely wishing this one were over, and contemplating giving Jurgen a pass.

Two-Bit Heroes, by Doris Egan. The second Ivory book, which I'm about two-thirds of the way through. Most of this is a reread as well, but I couldn't remember where I stopped last time (because I had to return the book to the library).

The Unknown Ajax, by Georgette Heyer. I'm about halfway through. There's a whole discourse on the difference between sheep for woolen and sheep for worsted that made my eyes glaze over the first time I read the book, but this time (after five or so years as a spinner), not only did it make perfect sense, it was interesting and I wish he'd kept on talking.

What I plan to read:

Guilt-Edged Ivory, by Doris Egan. The third of the Ivory trilogy. This may have to take a temporary back seat to the two library books, though.

Bitterblue, by Kristin Cashore. The third of the Graceling books, it just arrived at my library branch a few days ago.

Shadows in Flight, by Orson Scott Card. It just jumped out at me, honestly. I don't read anything else of his, but I keep wanting to know what happens next (or what happened past, in this case) in the Enderverse. I do feel vaguely unclean, though.

Jurgen, by James Branch Cabell, once I finish The Silver Stallion. And then I'll definitely be done with Cabell.

More books from the pile by the bedside.