A Game of Thrones by George R.R. Martin
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
Wow. I almost never like high-fantasy epics of m’lady courtliness, plus (ho hum) spooky old darkness, plus swords forged someplace awesomely dread of some kind of dreadly steel, plus, oh, dragons and prophecy and kitchen-sink Tolkien. Now I know why I’m so dismissive of that stuff - it always falls short. This book does not. The copy I have looks like any other pulpy doorstopper you might buy in a pinch at a drugstore before heading to jury duty, and yet I stayed up quite late reading and against my will and good sense went down the “Song of Ice and Fire” rabbit hole, even unto behavior like checking out George RR Martin’s livejournal and reading of his football preferences, yea for several entries even. F*** it’s now onto “A Clash of Kings” and more Westerossian madness for me and a futile attempt to shake free of books that slice like fine Valyrian steel through all my reading prejudices and plans. Bring on the dragons.
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Tags: books
Here it is 2008 - el ocho - as my brother is referring to it - and I realize I haven’t blogged for a while. I’ve been working. Working working working. Working on the revision of “Wolves” and occasionally and probably ill-advisedly working on “Albertine” aka “My Old Ghost” aka “Everybody Hates Proust.” (And, as I crack myself up over crap titles, I do want to remember I’m resolving to finish it this year.)
“Wolves” is shaping up, thankfully, and I’m hoping to hand that off soon. Very soon. Then I’d like to write more about Lucy Darrington, my “Wolves” character. But we shall see.
So I may submerge again. But I’m going to try a little harder on the blogging front. I think my mom deserves more frequent postings in 2008, and I think I’ll go out on a limb and even try to include photos now and then.
