I’ve been meaning to read John Ringo and James Aidee’s Beyond the Ranges for a bit now, but only finally got around to it because I’m sick with a cold. It’s clearly the first book in a series about planetary colonization, with a healthy dose of mysterious precursors and the need for developing a functioning economy in the process. Started slow, but picked up. Check it out.
#commissionearned
This would be the annual Christmas/Solstice gift exchange between various members of the HPL Historical Society. If you’re a member, check your email for the sign-up link. If you are not a member, consider joining (I have a lifetime membership, myself). The HPLHS makes great Mythos-related props and materials, in a wide range of media. They are eminently worth supporting.
Got more done today. You know what they say: when in doubt, murder a couple of your characters. Your audience will love it.
The city fathers of Red Beach closed all the… beaches… so fast, I didn’t wonder whether they were looking for an excuse. I wondered why they were looking for an excuse.
They meant it, too. All the lifeguard stations got manned by beat cops and militia. Anybody got too close to the water, someone ran out to tell them to go back. Anybody who tried to go in anyway got an involuntary escort off of the beach, and didn’t get to go back onto the sands. When they said “out of the water,” they meant it.
Normally I can ignore rules like that — well, maybe not ignore it, but I can definitely push it for a lot longer until somebody decides to push back. This time? I wasn’t so sure. The cops were acting more like prison guards, and I didn’t know which side of the wall I was on.
Besides, I didn’t know what I wanted to check out anyway. When a Shamus gets a hunch, we’re never just told why, or what, or anything too useful. Because I guess that would be too easy.
That’s why we let ourselves get slugged in the stomach so often, you know. It’s our little way of getting back at our guts for not being more forthcoming about their feelings. Serves it right.
…only thing is, I don’t sell enough books to be able to effectively offer it. I mean, yeah, it’s a free country. I’m allowed to sneer. But it’ll still just come across as sour grapes; and, if we’re being brutally honest about it, that impression might not be completely wrong.
So. Buy my books! Allow me the luxury of a good writer’s feud!
Continue reading I have an opinion on an alternate history series…I don’t actually expect much out of it. Still, we’re doing this particular event mostly to get out of the house, and unload some of the SCA-related mathoms that every reenactor accumulates like pocket lint. Also, lunch promises to be highly tasty, and… again, it’s nice to get out of the house. Particularly when you have a reason for it. I’m out of practice for just hanging out.
#commissionearned
I am, yes, very far behind now. But we’re back to it!
Lucas took another bite from his tlayuda, and frowned. “If I didn’t know better,” he commented, “I’d swear this was grasshopper meat.”
“That a problem?” I looked down at my plate. “I probably won’t finish all this turkey.”
“Oh, it is grasshopper? Never mind, then.” Lucas chewed, a reflective look on his face. “I was just surprised, that’s all. The last time I had grasshopper, it was tough as hell. We had to boil them for an hour just to get the exoskeletons off. Nasty bastards, too.”
I stared at him. “What? Were these, like, giant grasshoppers or something?”
“No, these were runts. Only, I dunno, two feet long?” Lucas took a swig of his wine, made a pleased face at the taste. “I’m surprised you guys farm them. They’re mean, and runs in packs of twenty or more.”
“Yeah. Those are the giant grasshoppers. Ours are thumbed-sized.”
“Wow.” Lucas smirked at me. “You must have to make the fences really small, then.”
…that many of these beach movies do not hold up well. It’s not just the out-of-date cultural referents. It’s how the culture itself sounds different, pre-Beatles. On the bright side, I haven’t seen anything that should make me do things much differently for BANSHEE BEACH. My existing rough impressions of the genre are actually fine.
I should watch JAWS again, though.
#commissionearned
I cannot counsel that enough. Let Sleeping Djinni Lie. Wishes are dangerous.
This was not a great week for reading. However, Steve Stirling’s upcoming novel LORDS OF CREATION finally has a cover! …That’s just gonna have to do.
Oh, and read the first two in the series, too. They’re excellent.
#commissionearned
Which I will not win, because I don’t win things. It’s weird, and yes, annoying. Still, it’s already written and I’m going to sit on it a day before I edit. In the meantime, I’m putting up the link in case you want to give it a try.
