BOOKS. How I missed you, my sweet, sweet darlings.
So, two days ago I got all four - that's right, four - Adrien English mysteries (by Josh Lanyon, aka jgraeme2007, who I subsequently LJ-friended because yeah, books) as e-books and rather than spending those two days cleaning my apartment or packing to prepare for my upcoming months doing research and trying to bang out the first draft of my thesis in California, I have gotten through all of them.
And oh my goodness, I have a new love.
First, I should elaborate. The mysteries are, well, romance mysteries. And normally I don't much care for romance. My love of mysteries, on the other hand, and, of course, my love of gay detectives have seriously kept me doing NOTHING ELSE. I even have a shiny new Don Strachey mystery to read, BUT NO.
I am torn between the glee of reading and the D: of running out of books in the series. I NEED MOAR JAKE RIORDAN.
Oh, yeah, that's right. My favorite character? The ill-advised love interest who happens to be a closeted self-hating detective with anger management issues. HIS LIFE IS SO HARD. And I can't help but feel that their love is lol epic and meant to be but SO TOTALLY UNHEALTHY.
I sense that this conforms to a pattern of my interests. GUH. Yeah, I try to keep myself focused and on-task and things, but I'm identifying hard with Adrien - GEE I WONDER WHY, he's just a slender, black-haired blue-eyed amateur sleuth who is one with the sarcasm, he couldn't be read as an AU version of Tim Drake by any means, nope not at all, and even if that were the case the heart condition clinches his status as MY TYPE - and I would SO TOTALLY RP AND/OR WRITE FIC ABOUT their tragic love-that-cannot-be. SERIOUSLY. I need for there to be more of these books so that I can cheer them on even though OMG IT WILL NEVER WORK OUT. It doesn't help that Jake's competition has all the markers of a character I would like, but because he's not Jake, I feel compelled NOT to like. I mean, Guy's nice enough. But he's no Jake, that's all.
It is so not helping that in an EPICALLY LULZY turn of events, immediately after reading about Adrien taking a hard fall during a push-and-shove argument with my new favoritest character to root for, I promptly tripped over my cat, landed hard on my shoulder, and managed to bang my head on the coffee table. Luckily I was not concussed, but COME ON UNIVERSE. There is NO NEED to play these tricks on me. D: D: D:
And damn it, books, I have other things I should be doing. AND YET.
OH HEY AND SPEAKING OF BOOKS. I seem to have lost my copy of Turn Coat, but with no Gentleman Johnnie Marcone in it I confess I'm less irritated than I could be - but I do want to catch up on my Dresden Files and, you know, find my damn hardcover. The other day I suffered a moment of weakness in the bookshop. AS I AM PRONE TO DO.
In addition to the gay mysteries I have been devouring, I bought a weird, meta-looking hardcover called The Manual of Detection, a comic translated from the French called The Killer, and Justin Gustainis' Evil Ways - which is the second in yet another trashy urban fantasy mystery series that, of course, I enjoy.
All these books are a problem because on the one hand, LEISURE READING HOW I HAVE MISSED YOU, and on the other there's that paper on Kenyon Cox and caricature I owe my advisor. I WONDER WHICH BOOKS I WILL READ ON THE PLANE.
Hmph. And I want an audiobook to listen to on the drive to Dad's, so maybe I'll re-listen to Artemis Fowl: The Eternity Code and The Big Over Easy, but what I REALLY want is some new mystery book to devour on the road. Preferably one better than the kind-of-awful Christopher Rice audiobook I pulled out of the bargain bin out of curiosity last time I was making the trip. Sure, I read it - well listened to it - but there wasn't anybody in that book who was likeable.
Either way, today I need to haul myself away from reading in order to pack my bags and make sure everything for my trip is go-for-launch. GAH.
And oh my goodness, I have a new love.
First, I should elaborate. The mysteries are, well, romance mysteries. And normally I don't much care for romance. My love of mysteries, on the other hand, and, of course, my love of gay detectives have seriously kept me doing NOTHING ELSE. I even have a shiny new Don Strachey mystery to read, BUT NO.
I am torn between the glee of reading and the D: of running out of books in the series. I NEED MOAR JAKE RIORDAN.
Oh, yeah, that's right. My favorite character? The ill-advised love interest who happens to be a closeted self-hating detective with anger management issues. HIS LIFE IS SO HARD. And I can't help but feel that their love is lol epic and meant to be but SO TOTALLY UNHEALTHY.
I sense that this conforms to a pattern of my interests. GUH. Yeah, I try to keep myself focused and on-task and things, but I'm identifying hard with Adrien - GEE I WONDER WHY, he's just a slender, black-haired blue-eyed amateur sleuth who is one with the sarcasm, he couldn't be read as an AU version of Tim Drake by any means, nope not at all, and even if that were the case the heart condition clinches his status as MY TYPE - and I would SO TOTALLY RP AND/OR WRITE FIC ABOUT their tragic love-that-cannot-be. SERIOUSLY. I need for there to be more of these books so that I can cheer them on even though OMG IT WILL NEVER WORK OUT. It doesn't help that Jake's competition has all the markers of a character I would like, but because he's not Jake, I feel compelled NOT to like. I mean, Guy's nice enough. But he's no Jake, that's all.
It is so not helping that in an EPICALLY LULZY turn of events, immediately after reading about Adrien taking a hard fall during a push-and-shove argument with my new favoritest character to root for, I promptly tripped over my cat, landed hard on my shoulder, and managed to bang my head on the coffee table. Luckily I was not concussed, but COME ON UNIVERSE. There is NO NEED to play these tricks on me. D: D: D:
And damn it, books, I have other things I should be doing. AND YET.
OH HEY AND SPEAKING OF BOOKS. I seem to have lost my copy of Turn Coat, but with no Gentleman Johnnie Marcone in it I confess I'm less irritated than I could be - but I do want to catch up on my Dresden Files and, you know, find my damn hardcover. The other day I suffered a moment of weakness in the bookshop. AS I AM PRONE TO DO.
In addition to the gay mysteries I have been devouring, I bought a weird, meta-looking hardcover called The Manual of Detection, a comic translated from the French called The Killer, and Justin Gustainis' Evil Ways - which is the second in yet another trashy urban fantasy mystery series that, of course, I enjoy.
All these books are a problem because on the one hand, LEISURE READING HOW I HAVE MISSED YOU, and on the other there's that paper on Kenyon Cox and caricature I owe my advisor. I WONDER WHICH BOOKS I WILL READ ON THE PLANE.
Hmph. And I want an audiobook to listen to on the drive to Dad's, so maybe I'll re-listen to Artemis Fowl: The Eternity Code and The Big Over Easy, but what I REALLY want is some new mystery book to devour on the road. Preferably one better than the kind-of-awful Christopher Rice audiobook I pulled out of the bargain bin out of curiosity last time I was making the trip. Sure, I read it - well listened to it - but there wasn't anybody in that book who was likeable.
Either way, today I need to haul myself away from reading in order to pack my bags and make sure everything for my trip is go-for-launch. GAH.