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Apr. 9th, 2003
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Apr. 9th, 2003 04:47 pmFinished off the first Anita Blake book last night, so I can finally dive into the next four (well, three - I just finished Laughing Corpse here at work) I picked up off the swap table at Escapade. Good times. I must admit, I was a bit skeptical after the tepid reviews I'd heard about Narcissus In Chains, but the first book converted me. I'm a big fan of the tight, third person narrative - Lois McMaster Bujold holds my heart for the best execution of that, in both style and character, but Anita Blake's an awesome character in her own right.
And the world is good too, with just enough details to make it Not Ours and fantastical enough to really grab me by the throat. I love well-built worlds.
I've reserved the truck for Saturday, so I can hit the booksale, the plant sale, grab those two rain barrels (though I really need four, with the gaping holes we've got in our gutters) and maybe pick up a few bales of hay for the raised bed. Still need to figure out where to get those, but I've got the truck for long enough, I can explore the East Side for feed stores or something. If I only knew a horseperson or farmer instate.
Lucy Hale's going to be in town Friday night for karaoke before she disappears into the hinterlands. It's been a while - I can't wait to hear her sing again, too.
Speaking of voices - I heard the most awful one on the bus yesterday. This guy was attempting to sing along to his walkman (which, hello, rude! you're wearing earphones so we don't have to hear it in the first place) and managed to sound like a lusty cat trying to romance a set of bagpipes. The worst part was, I recognized him. Still can't come up with a name, but he was a poet who hit all of the open mikes when I was going to poetry slams with Chris. His poetry was a lot like his singing - mostly incoherent yowling. A day later, and I'm still trying to come up with his name. I don't really want to know it for any reason, but it's still bugging me.
And the world is good too, with just enough details to make it Not Ours and fantastical enough to really grab me by the throat. I love well-built worlds.
I've reserved the truck for Saturday, so I can hit the booksale, the plant sale, grab those two rain barrels (though I really need four, with the gaping holes we've got in our gutters) and maybe pick up a few bales of hay for the raised bed. Still need to figure out where to get those, but I've got the truck for long enough, I can explore the East Side for feed stores or something. If I only knew a horseperson or farmer instate.
Lucy Hale's going to be in town Friday night for karaoke before she disappears into the hinterlands. It's been a while - I can't wait to hear her sing again, too.
Speaking of voices - I heard the most awful one on the bus yesterday. This guy was attempting to sing along to his walkman (which, hello, rude! you're wearing earphones so we don't have to hear it in the first place) and managed to sound like a lusty cat trying to romance a set of bagpipes. The worst part was, I recognized him. Still can't come up with a name, but he was a poet who hit all of the open mikes when I was going to poetry slams with Chris. His poetry was a lot like his singing - mostly incoherent yowling. A day later, and I'm still trying to come up with his name. I don't really want to know it for any reason, but it's still bugging me.