In full command of every plan I wrecked
I was happily thinking the other day that I had been reasonably productive, not wildly happy but not suffering from the waves of ennui and depression that tend to roll through on a regular basis. Especially that I had apparently dodged the emotional tsunamis which every once in a while smack me back a couple of miles and demolish all my happy little lego-and-toothpick creations.
- So much for thinking.
In other news, I'm also suffering from not being able to find another world. I mean that in a reading kind of way. I'm almost finished with Sherwood Smith's (sartorius) Inda quadrology; I have really enjoyed it. I liked the characters, in a detached reading about them way, but they didn't hit my - for lack of better words - kinks. They never sparked me right into the story.
So now I need a new world. Maybe I need to do a massive C.J. Cherryh re-read. I also get tugged at, weirdly, by Jo Walton's (papersky ) Farthing universe. (Weirdly because if you asked me I would have said I didn't like mannered English procedurals, and am not a fan of anything to do with Hitler or WWII,
although I do like alternate histories.) I used to be able to lose myself in Marion Zimmer Bradley's Darkover, but the last time I picked one up I got so snobbish about the bad writing and worse editing that I couldn't make myself finish it. Others - Jacqueline Carey, Sarah Monette (truepenny) , Sheri Tepper, Kelley Armstrong - I've overread or I'm just not in the mood for.
It's not that I don't have new books - I do. Some of them I'm really really looking forward to. Before I ran out of money I treated myself to Elizabeth Bear's (matociquala ) Seven for a Secret w/ the Bonus! novelette; I have Karen Miller's Innocent Mage Duology; and lots more. Two shelves of them.
But it's like wanting to go back to the family cabin by the lake for the long weekend - and finding out that your brother in law sold it. There are other cabins, and other lakes, but the frogs never sound quite the same.
- So much for thinking.
In other news, I'm also suffering from not being able to find another world. I mean that in a reading kind of way. I'm almost finished with Sherwood Smith's (sartorius) Inda quadrology; I have really enjoyed it. I liked the characters, in a detached reading about them way, but they didn't hit my - for lack of better words - kinks. They never sparked me right into the story.
So now I need a new world. Maybe I need to do a massive C.J. Cherryh re-read. I also get tugged at, weirdly, by Jo Walton's (papersky ) Farthing universe. (Weirdly because if you asked me I would have said I didn't like mannered English procedurals, and am not a fan of anything to do with Hitler or WWII,
although I do like alternate histories.) I used to be able to lose myself in Marion Zimmer Bradley's Darkover, but the last time I picked one up I got so snobbish about the bad writing and worse editing that I couldn't make myself finish it. Others - Jacqueline Carey, Sarah Monette (truepenny) , Sheri Tepper, Kelley Armstrong - I've overread or I'm just not in the mood for.
It's not that I don't have new books - I do. Some of them I'm really really looking forward to. Before I ran out of money I treated myself to Elizabeth Bear's (matociquala ) Seven for a Secret w/ the Bonus! novelette; I have Karen Miller's Innocent Mage Duology; and lots more. Two shelves of them.
But it's like wanting to go back to the family cabin by the lake for the long weekend - and finding out that your brother in law sold it. There are other cabins, and other lakes, but the frogs never sound quite the same.