We had a fight on the promenade/ out in the rain

Joy. My much-delayed copies of Interzones 200 and 201 arrived today, thanks to the helpful offices of TTA publishing's message boards and a merciful intercessor (to whom many thanks and much gratitude are owed).

So far I have read the one story I really wanted to read (immediately!); Elizabeth Bear's (matociquala) Wax. Wonderful, really great.

Although the artwork was... unfortunate.

I have a list now of all the books that I would like to /b/u/y/ read in the coming season. A long list. Alas, Amazon, thou expensive beast: thine offerings are beyond my means for the present time. I must content myself with gently dissuading relatives from seasonal gifts of clothing, and instead politely hint at /m/o/n/e/y/ books.

Booksbooksbooks. Lots of books. Non-fiction, in this case, since most SFF comes from the publishing houses of the Evil Emp- excuse me, I mean the USA, and I have a bad case of jealousy.

(I am holding a grudge against Amazon.com. It's shipped my copy of Worldwired, and it says I can hope to see it before January - if little pigs fly and hell has snow this Christmas. January! *jumps up and down in frustration*)

Still, I have hope that next year at least three different SFF offerings will find themselves on Irish (and, I suppose, UK) bookshelves before - or at least at the same time as - American ones; Naomi Novik's (naominovik) Temeraire, Scott Lynch's (scott_lynch) The Lies of Locke Lamora, and Mary Gentle's Ilario. The last probably just in time for next Christmas.

At least in future years, I will be able to look back on this time as the period in which I realised history, well-presented, is at least as gripping as fiction in whatever form.

A realisation that has come from having no fiction to read (unless I want to die of an overdose of metaphor-and-symbolism-and-meaningfulness laden Literature), but still.

Magic in the Middle Ages. The Command of the Ocean. Zulu: a history of the Zulu War. Antonia Frazer's The Six Wives of Henry VIII. The Medici: Godfathers of the Renaissance. In the Name of Rome. A History of Venice. Medieval Warfare. Catherine de Medici. The Samurai Sourcebook. Genghis Khan. Sparta. Athenaion Politeia. Okay so maybe not the last one: I don't speak Greek. But maybe Aristotle in translation.

I'm currently reading Thomas Asbridge's The First Crusade. It's absolutely fascinating, and although I have a test in two days' time, I'm going off to read it now.

I could almost learn to live with not having fiction to read. Almost.


----

PS: I did have wordcount today. We are marching towards the future, yes we are.

We had a fight on the promenade/ out in the rain

Joy. My much-delayed copies of Interzones 200 and 201 arrived today, thanks to the helpful offices of TTA publishing's message boards and a merciful intercessor (to whom many thanks and much gratitude are owed).

So far I have read the one story I really wanted to read (immediately!); Elizabeth Bear's (matociquala) Wax. Wonderful, really great.

Although the artwork was... unfortunate.

I have a list now of all the books that I would like to /b/u/y/ read in the coming season. A long list. Alas, Amazon, thou expensive beast: thine offerings are beyond my means for the present time. I must content myself with gently dissuading relatives from seasonal gifts of clothing, and instead politely hint at /m/o/n/e/y/ books.

Booksbooksbooks. Lots of books. Non-fiction, in this case, since most SFF comes from the publishing houses of the Evil Emp- excuse me, I mean the USA, and I have a bad case of jealousy.

(I am holding a grudge against Amazon.com. It's shipped my copy of Worldwired, and it says I can hope to see it before January - if little pigs fly and hell has snow this Christmas. January! *jumps up and down in frustration*)

Still, I have hope that next year at least three different SFF offerings will find themselves on Irish (and, I suppose, UK) bookshelves before - or at least at the same time as - American ones; Naomi Novik's (naominovik) Temeraire, Scott Lynch's (scott_lynch) The Lies of Locke Lamora, and Mary Gentle's Ilario. The last probably just in time for next Christmas.

At least in future years, I will be able to look back on this time as the period in which I realised history, well-presented, is at least as gripping as fiction in whatever form.

A realisation that has come from having no fiction to read (unless I want to die of an overdose of metaphor-and-symbolism-and-meaningfulness laden Literature), but still.

Magic in the Middle Ages. The Command of the Ocean. Zulu: a history of the Zulu War. Antonia Frazer's The Six Wives of Henry VIII. The Medici: Godfathers of the Renaissance. In the Name of Rome. A History of Venice. Medieval Warfare. Catherine de Medici. The Samurai Sourcebook. Genghis Khan. Sparta. Athenaion Politeia. Okay so maybe not the last one: I don't speak Greek. But maybe Aristotle in translation.

I'm currently reading Thomas Asbridge's The First Crusade. It's absolutely fascinating, and although I have a test in two days' time, I'm going off to read it now.

I could almost learn to live with not having fiction to read. Almost.


----

PS: I did have wordcount today. We are marching towards the future, yes we are.