No, not in real life kind of way. Entirely in the “author and rabid fan” kinda way. Her being the author and me being the rabid fan. Her writing is ordinarily fun and exciting with great characters and plot twists, and it isn’t Shakespeare. But, it doesn’t have to be, nor is it ever trying to be. Writing can be fantastic without it being serious or moral. It can just be. For me, her writing is the equivalent of a thick dark chocolate cake that happens to have zero calories and takes the trash out when it is done with you. Her stories make me happy, and we all need more of that in our lives.
However, here comes the sad second paragraph where I go on to say how her latest work has failed me. Authors get to have books that don’t quite shine as glossy as others. It’s alright. It is just a bummer for me because I look forward to her books coming out.
“The Turn” did not shine. I found the characters dull or interchangeably monstrous. It lacked a real protagonist. It lacked a real villain. The muddled gray areas of life are what everyday people deal with on a daily basis. You read a book like this to immerse yourself in a story to get away from whats real.
Firstly let us talk about pacing. It was boring. God, it was slowwww. The first 60% of the book is detailing the dreary lives of 1960 scientists working on genetics work. It is like Mad Men without the good stuff. Just men in suits and women in skirts. The last 40% of the book had slightly better pacing, but at this point, I hated the story so much that I was rushing to the finish line.
The characters. Gag me. The unfortunate and the narcissistic, both at the time and interchangeably moronic and monstrous. No one to cheer for, nor to give a shit about; the only saving grace was the pixie. I wanted to know more about her. That’s about it.
The only thing I can say that I liked, was the cameos from characters that are forthcoming. Al, and Quen. Fantastic. Al is very Al. Quen seems much more emotional in this one. Unlike how stoic he is in the future.
My final verdict is to skip. Forget there ever was a prequel. Or, better yet read October Daye series by Seanan McGuire. Her series is still ongoing, and it is bloody and beautiful full of darkness and light. Not figuratively.
This is my first installment of, “What am I doing this week to amuse myself?” Or as I like to call it, WAIDTWTAM. It’s a working title. Don’t judge.
The last few weeks I have been learning all I can about the semi-forgotten art of canning. Living in the pacific northwest, I have access to a lot of beautiful produce both from my own garden and other peoples gardens as I walk down the street. I kid. I kid. We have lovely farmers markets full of tattooed twenty-somethings that know how to sell a gorgeous tomato. I found myself in a situation of having too much produce in the fridge and it spoiling. So, I set out to learn some preservation techniques which I have been practicing the last few weeks. First of all, I am killing it on the jam front. Jams are my jam. Also, because I can’t do a single thing simply I fancy them up. I have made a spiced strawberry jam, a jelly made of coffee, kiwi jalapeno, raspberry and cardamon, apple whiskey Jam, and peach and rum. It seems like a lot for a family that hardly ever eats jam. It is. Every time I see someone, or an unsuspecting family member walks into my home; I shove a spoon full of jam down their gullet. It is getting to the point that people see me waving a spoon in their direction and they run for the coat closet.
While at my local grocery/produce stand I came across a box of apricots for 3.99. A BOX. It is about 15 pounds of sweet little stonefruits that taste like a peach dipped in honey. They are perishable as hell. I think they were the last of the apricots of the season and they needed to get them out of the store to make room for berries of all sorts. I was like, “Yes gimme! Give me all of the stone fruits so I may look at them and scratch my head.” I have literally spent more accidentally on freeze-dried bull-shit (real poop coming from a bull) from Cards Against Humanity then I would pay for 15 pounds of fruit.
I searched the wonderful world of Pinterest and found all of the recipes for apricots.
Thanks to Netgalley for making this book available for an honest review!
Mmmmm. Tacos. Even the word by itself makes me drool a little. Who doesn’t like tacos, crazy people that’s who!? I can tell you who loves tacos and it is the squirrel.
I think this just might be my favorite children’s book ever. I say children’s, but really this book can appeal to all ages. I bet it could get a chuckle out of even the most staunch adults who only read Proust in the original French. This book is so funny, and the illustrations are absolutely marvelous. It reminds me of the humor that one would find online in your weekly webcomics. Concise and to the point. It also breaks the fourth wall a bit, especially when dealing with tacos. So really win-win for all. I see many kids in the future and their parents getting many chuckles from the adventures of the squirrel.
Soule, Charles, et al. Inhuman. Marvel Worldwide, 2016.
Content advisory: scattered F-bombs, some violence, and innuendo. (if you are a long time reader of this blog, you should be used to that.)
Let us start off by saying that we all agree that at one time there existed a tv
I looked for a great quote from the story that would exemplify how good the writing is. “Blah Blah”. I literally couldn’t find one. B-
show called “Inhumans.” It was based loosely on the comic book characters of the same name. We can just say that the studio that brought forth this atrocity, has since seen the error of their ways and ripped it off of TV. I hate to be so harsh here, but it was as well acted as an episode of Xena the Warrior Princess without all the fun. The source material allows some interesting characters, and interesting they aren’t on the show.
Book wise, this is definitely not my favorite set of characters. I tried to like them. Or get attached to them in any way. The least I could say is that I didn’t give a shit about their existence or not. Save for the large pit bull, Lockjaw. Got to love pitties. I just didn’t get it. Maybe this series of stories is written for a younger audience or having stories this disjointed is just comic M.O. I get so lost reading them, even when reading them in the required order. You get little fleeting glimpses of the protagonist or antagonist dealing with the plot line. Then all the sudden another stupid character is waving his arms over here, and saying “look what I made for breakfast!” The reader is basically saying Da Fuq. What stories I could parlay into cohesive thought through manipulation of cross stupid plot lines still sucked and were vapid cheese. C’mon. we can do better here.
I will say however that the artwork is very good. Not Alex Ross, mind you. Just very good artwork that tells a story well. If I had to rate this it would be a solid 2 gorgon stomps out of 5. I finished this story arc, and I am not sure I will be jumping off into the next one. I may read more stories if they come up only to see if it could possibly get better.
I am currently watching the TV show Sense8 (screw you Netflix for canceling) and freaking loving it. I have always have been a fan of the Wachowiski sisters. I saw Matrix 8 times at the theater, and I really adore Speed Racer. When I was watching Sesne8, I had an interesting thought based upon the plot. As an individual, what skill have you cultivated? Who are you? In the story, they are eight very different individuals. Each has a very unique life experience. Each of them brings something to the table. My question is, what do you know how to do that other’s might not know about.
I have always been a bit fascinated by this thought. In a world full of people, hell, in a room full of people, we are the stars of our own movie or our own book. In that, we are the main protagonist of our lives. Each of us has gone down many branching paths that have led us to adopt, understand and try new things. Those branches lead an individual to become a combination of infinite things. So who are you, because I am a combination of millions of choices in my 37 years.
I am a tryer. To me, one of the coolest things in life is trying new things. I figure that if I try enough stuff I might come across something that makes my heart explode in delight. Or if it sucks really bad, that’s ok too. It is something new. This is how I personally battle depression and anxiety. Which I have been dogged with for most of my life. But, that is another story.
So who am I? I am one who tries different things.
I can tell you a little about some things that I can do, and I am curious as a lover of stories, about things that you can do. Everyone has such great stories if they could only tell them. So tell me something. Here are a few about me:
I can juggle like a fiend. I used to work at IKEA in childcare, and it was boring. Boring and insanely stressful at the same time. The coworkers would sit with anonymous children for 8 hours a day and try and figure out things to do to entertain them. We also had a giant ball pit. All kids like playing with balls, and I discovered 99% of children love to watch juggling. It is magical to them. I watched a few youtube videos on basic juggling and taught myself to juggle over the course of a few weeks. I can now juggle 3 balls backward, forwards, upside down, all sorts of ways. I can juggle 4 balls for a few seconds. But I quit Working there before I got to spend much time doing that. I am infinitely grateful IKEA because they gave me health insurance when my family really needed it, and an opportunity to learn to juggle while getting paid for it.
A little proud tidbit. I actually impressed Adam the Bawdy Juggler with my basic juggling skills. He taught me how to do Mills Mess. Well, he showed me Mills Mess, and I dropped all the balls on the floor. Repeatedly.
I have read a lot. (Well duh if you read this blog.) Books are this mysterious entity for me. So many stories, true or not, lay inside of flattened, dead trees. The thought itself is kinda magical. When I was younger, I carried a tiny little book inside my purse everywhere I went. It had lists of books that I would like to read. As I went along and read them, I crossed them off with a highlighter. Crossing something off became this fantastic cathartic happy inducing thing. I have graduated on to other means of tracking my lists, but the idea still fascinates me. Electronic means of tracking lists are not as satisfying as a little yellow book that you can carry. I might even go back to that. Very old school. I have read, as of today 1700 books. Of various lengths. That isn’t 1700, 500-page novels. Some were much longer, I am looking at you unabridged version of The Stand by Stephen King, and some were novellas. But Lists and books make my heart sing. Happy happy things.
The third thing I am mentioning today. I have a degree in Landscape Architecture that I do not use professionally but use it every day otherwise. Education is never a waste, and my knowledge has a daily effect on me. I hate when people say to me, “Wow your parents spent 40 grand on a degree that you don’t use. They must be so pissed at you.” First off, you’re a presumptuous prick. Secondly, I am sure my folks would love it if I got back into designing parks and stuff. But, a degree is not like a jug of milk. It doesn’t go bad, and you have to throw it away if you don’t use it. It took me seven years to get my degree. I think I got something out of it I can use on a daily basis. Stop being a prick.
Tell me what you like to do, or part of your story. I want to hear something about you. You are the protagonist, tell me something that changed your story as you lived it. I am all ears, or eyes because you know.. computer.
Obligatory apology – I haven’t written in a couple weeks. Every member of my family came down with Pneumonia or bronchitis at the same damn time. Every single one. It was like a damn plague swept through our homes. I have been too sick to get out of bed, let alone write and think. But I am feeling much better now. So here you go.