I went on a most splendid adventure with friends yesterday. We trekked along the Deep River, trespassed terribly (we found out later), nearly had a run-in under a Highway 1 bridge with what appeared to be drug dealers (terribly exciting, in the bad way), made it to the falls (which is actually a dam, but nonetheless very pretty), Faith nearly put her hand on a snake, Danielle slid down a tiny cliff, and all around a grand time was had by all. It’s going to be hard to top that, but we’re going to the flea market tomorrow, so one never knows.

Hirsute History. Brilliant! I plan on buying at least one of these t-shirts, and my hair will become a design for a shirt on this site (preferably in the Writers category). MARK MY WORDS.
Orson Welles reading the beginning of Moby Dick. I would listen to him read just about anything, actually.
The Future of Publishing, stolen from Sam.
Leave Blank. You wouldn’t think cake faux pas would be entertaining, but they are!
Jeff and Erin’s Epic Wedding Trailer. Haven’t a clue who these folks are, but they are my kind o’ folk.
I never realized quite how many lensflares there were in the new Star Trek movie, but now that you mention it…


I loved The Last Light of the Sun so ridiculously much. If I start yammering about it, I’ll just go on forever and spoil you, but take my word for it: READ IT. I will now read everything that man has ever written.

I reread The Thief by Megan Whalen Turner, and I’d forgotten how great that book is, even if I liked the second and third books even better. Word out on the street is that there’s a fourth one coming out in the next few days, which I’m pretty excited about.

Ever since I read Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell, I’ve wanted to read The Ladies of Grace Adieu and Other Stories, also by Susanna Clarke, even though I had disconcerting reports that it was nowhere near as good as Strange. I wouldn’t say that it’s a disgrace or anything, but there is something lacking. However, revisiting Clarke’s world was still quite delightful, and here’s an excerpt! (Oh yay, everyone says. An excerpt. She’s becoming one of *those* bloggers. Just hang in there, you’ll be fine, guys.) This is a story of the Raven King, before he was the Raven King and was only a Raven Child.

“There are all sorts of things in Heaven and Earth,” said Uncle Auberon’s servant, “that yearn to do you harm. There is fire that wants to burn you. There are words that long to pierce you through and through and ropes that mean to bind you hard. There are a thousand, thousand things that you never yet dreamt of: creatures that can steal your sleep from you, year after year, until you scarcely know yourself, and men yet unborn who will curse you and scheme against you. Little human child, the time has come to be afraid.”

But the Raven Child said, “Robin Goodfellow, I knew all along that it was you that sent me those dreams. But I am a human child and therefore cleverer than you and when those wicked creatures come to do me harm I shall be cleverer than them. I am a human child and all the vast, stony, rainy English earth belongs to me. I am an English child and all the wide grey English air, full of black wings bating and grey ghosts of rain sighing, belongs to me. This being so, Robin Goodfellow, tell me, why should I be afraid?” Then the Raven Child shook his head of raven hair and disappeared.

See? Very worth your time.

The last time I went to the library, I saw The City of Bones by Martha Wells, only I didn’t know that was what it was. You see, when I was 10 (I think), I found a book about a golden, tiered city in a vast desert, with the most intriguing characters. It was one of my first fantasy books, and I was utterly enchanted with the idea of creating a completely new universe. I was a bit young for the book, though, and I think I put it aside, even though the images were hauntingly imaginative to my 10-year-old self. I then forgot the title and the author and almost everything about it for more than 12 years. Then, as I prowled the shelves at the library, I saw it! The cover was just how I remembered, with the golden city! And it all came back to me, how wonder-stricken I was by the creation of a world, and I swiped that book up and ran (metaphorically; I don’t run in the library, y’know). Rereading it now, it’s a good book but I don’t think others would consider it to be shockingly amazing. For me, though, it was quite grand, and I found myself remembering snatches of text and more images, even though I’d forgotten how the plot went for the most part. A very surreal experience, I must say.

Right now I’m starting The 13 1/2 Lives of Captain Bluebear by Walter Moer, which appears to be 700 pages of hilarity. Will report back upon completion.

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