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hawkwing_lbBooks 2008: 22-24.
(Fiction)
22. Sharon Shinn, Dark Moon Defender.
Interesting, fast-paced fantasy. I could do with more action and less romance, but there is sufficient action for all that, and the romance does not tilt over into the saccherine.
23. Caroline Stevermer, A College of Magics.
Impressive. Seriously. Plenty to get one's teeth into, and yet despite the disquieting undercurrents in the background, it remains quite a comforting book.
(If only I could remember who recommended it to me.)
24. Carrie Vaughn, Kitty and the Silver Bullet.
At last. Urban fantasy of the werewolf-vampire stripe with characters who actually grow, plots that make sense, and relationships not calculated for the highest degree of pointless angst.
Good book. Nicely crunchy. Want more.
In other news, I am endeavouring to avoid ruining my mind by dwelling on the inescapable fact that Schols are three weeks away and I as yet have performed no great feats of studious nature.
To this end, I'm exercising, essaying (though the amount of material available on inlaid early Myceneaen daggers is frightening in its scarcity, and my other lecturer has yet to give the topic for the essay due March 3), watching too many bad crime series DVDs, and reading the least demanding fiction possible.
I'm not spazzing out. Despite the fact that I am sacrificing - sacrificing, I tell you - my spring holiday to exams that can't possibly do me any material good.
Well, they're good practice. And they'll point up areas I might need to address before the summer exams. So that's something, I suppose.
This weekend I book hotel rooms for October. And get this essay-thing at least halfway done.
(Fiction)
22. Sharon Shinn, Dark Moon Defender.
Interesting, fast-paced fantasy. I could do with more action and less romance, but there is sufficient action for all that, and the romance does not tilt over into the saccherine.
23. Caroline Stevermer, A College of Magics.
Impressive. Seriously. Plenty to get one's teeth into, and yet despite the disquieting undercurrents in the background, it remains quite a comforting book.
(If only I could remember who recommended it to me.)
24. Carrie Vaughn, Kitty and the Silver Bullet.
At last. Urban fantasy of the werewolf-vampire stripe with characters who actually grow, plots that make sense, and relationships not calculated for the highest degree of pointless angst.
Good book. Nicely crunchy. Want more.
In other news, I am endeavouring to avoid ruining my mind by dwelling on the inescapable fact that Schols are three weeks away and I as yet have performed no great feats of studious nature.
To this end, I'm exercising, essaying (though the amount of material available on inlaid early Myceneaen daggers is frightening in its scarcity, and my other lecturer has yet to give the topic for the essay due March 3), watching too many bad crime series DVDs, and reading the least demanding fiction possible.
I'm not spazzing out. Despite the fact that I am sacrificing - sacrificing, I tell you - my spring holiday to exams that can't possibly do me any material good.
Well, they're good practice. And they'll point up areas I might need to address before the summer exams. So that's something, I suppose.
This weekend I book hotel rooms for October. And get this essay-thing at least halfway done.
