Books Completed May & June 2024

 

 

Unseen Academicals, by Terry Pratchett - I had lent this to a neighbor years ago, and when she returned it, there it was at the top of the pile right after I'd finished Pratchett's biography last month. This is one of the later Discworld books, and the longest. I wish it was a little tighter because there's themes in it I think other friends would enjoy, but it's a little too long to recommend to most people (my neighbor, however, seems to read like she breathes). I had forgotten about the character of Pepe, and rediscovering them was great. This one also contains one of my favorite extended Pratchett quotes (it's the one about otters).

Lincoln in the Bardo, by George Saunders - My neighbor lent me this when returning some other books I'd lent here, including the above. I'd never heard of it and probably not the kind of book I would have picked up on my own, but I ended up enjoying it well enough. Slight spoiler: They never tell you what "The Bardo" is, you're apparently supposed to just know this (insert Chris Flemming meme). It's a deft weaving of fiction and fact, told trough primary source quotes of the Lincoln era and a truly odd narrative structure. Takes a while to figure out what's going on, but that's intentional and a confusion shared by most of the characters. I particularly enjoyed when conflicting source quotes were presented in rapid succession as a way to recreate the hazy and unreliable nature of memory.

Nettle & Bone, by T. Kingfisher - I got this for Christmas and pulled it out of that stack at random. It ended up being my favorite fantasy novel of the year so far. I immediately gave away my copy in excitement, forgetting I needed a picture for this post, which is largely what ended up delaying it a month. Not much I can say without spoiling anything, other than what the jacket blurb already does: "This isn't the kind of fairy tale where the princess marries a prince. It's the one where she kills him." The world-building is sharp and diegetic, and there's a satisfying number of twists based on clues laid out in bare sight of the reader earlier. I'm giving this copy away immediately, too. 

The Old Man and the Sea, by Ernest Hemingway - This came up in conversation after a D&D game, and I mentioned that I didn't think I'd ever read it. My friend latched on that and promptly ordered me a copy, because they're good that way. This is one of those books that reminds me how media illiterate I am despite reading all the time. It's smashing me over the head with allegories, and I just get the vaguest sense of "ah, the fish represents... something". Same with the sharks, and the basically everything. As a narrative there's something to be said for the dry, staccato prose, but in the end I felt like a high school sophomore who got a C- on their quarterly. I should read about reading more.

The Color of Magic, by Terry Pratchett - After finishing Pratchett's biography, I decided to go through my collection of Discworld novels and make sure I had them all. This is one I was surprised to be missing, and when it arrived in the order to fill in the gaps, I decided to give it a go, since it had been a while. It has a pretty bad reputation, and the common wisdom is "don't start Discworld with the first book", but honestly it was better than I was expecting. The world-building is probably what gets people thinking that, because it's much more heavy-handed than his later work, but there's plenty to enjoy here, and you can see how the seeds of weirdness and humor and humanity planted here grew into the larger series over the years.

Hollow Kingdom, by Kina Jane Buxton - Another gift by the same friend as Old Man Hemingway up above, in a decidedly different vein. A foul-mouthed, foul-named crow and his doofus hound dog companion set out to save the world, or at least the humans they care about, from a zombie apocalypse. Sometimes it seemed like it was trying to be an allegory for transness, but then would put that to the side entirely for chapters, so that just might be my reading comprehension failing again. The language could get a little thesaurus-poisoned, but I think that was the narrator crow putting on airs rather than the author grasping for ten-cent words. On the whole, it was a romp, and I enjoyed it thoroughly.

Gackling Moon, by Patrick Stuart & Tom K. Kemp - Don't you love it when a forgotten Kickstarter project shows up on your doorstep? A nice hardbound copy of what started as a series of blog posts describing a distant fantastical land teetering on nonexistence, rife for adventure. It's accompanied by a set of inspired illustrations that depict cultural artifacts from the land, making it a kind of museum of an imagined place. I do wish they'd given it another run through an editor's hands - there's just a few too many typographic errors and "see page XX" left in an otherwise well-produced book. My favorite bits were the goblin empire and the antigoblin empire, but I also really enjoyed the lunatic phases of the titular moon.

The Pretty Good Jim's Journal Treasury, by Scott Dikkers - I don't know why I pulled this off the shelf. I've had it since I bought it off the bottom shelf of a used book and game store in college on a whim, and have read it who knows how many times since. The nigh-complete absence of humor is like slowly rolling down a set of winding stairs, and you occasionally hit a landing/joke, and are redirected down another flight. Nothing happens, and we're all the worse for it. A paragon of anti-humor.

The Marvelous Land of Oz, by Eric Shanower & Skottie Young (and L. Frank Baum) - A gift from the city's numerous little free libraries. I've read the novel a few times over the years, but did not know this comic adaptation existed. It punches up the puns and the absurdity of the source material a bit. The art is lush but, and this might be unkind, a little too Hot Topic. Also they copy and paste panels within a page rather frequently - maybe it wouldn't stand out if it was being read month-to-month, but in a collected volume it really does, even if it's done for laughs. A nice enough modern take, but I am sending it back to whence it came.

 

Books Completed March & April 2024

April kind of got away from me.

The Gormenghast Novels, by Mervyn Peake - I picked this absolute tome up a few years ago after reading about it in another blog post I can't find. I read the first of the trilogy, then put it aside for a year or two before picking it up again sometime earlier this year and finally pushing through. It's a work whose language makes it both enjoyable and difficult at times. Sometimes at the same time. I was not expecting the drastic tonal shift of the third book in the least, but it works for the fever dream it seems to be. Having read it, I'm now seeing references to it in other works frequently. It feels like one of these forgotten, load-bearing works of the fantasy genre.

It's hard for me to not read fantasy with an eye to gaming, and Gormenghast is indeed included in Appendix N. Sometimes it felt like you could hear the dice clattering. Everyone has 1d6 HP and every attack deals 1d6 damage. The characters have a defining physical trait and a personality trait that are easy to remember, but then polished and worried to a luster.

It's going to be a long time before I reread this series, especially having read some of the critical and historical essays in the back of this edition, but it's going to be rattling around in my head for a long time, too.

Time and Again, by Jack Finney - This was a birthday gift from my mom years ago, in a pile of time travel books. I picked it off the shelf because it was close and I didn't want to get off the couch. An odd one from the 70s, both for its method of time travel (cosplay hard enough) and its choice of protagonist (New York's horniest illustrator). I appreciated the attention given to the food in the past, and would love to visit one of the all-you-can-eat lunch counters he describes. The approach to cops and the military is swingy to a modern reader - sometimes lauding, sometimes bastardizing. The finale did not go the way I expected. There are other books in this series, but I don't think they're going to float to the top of my read pile.

The Survival of the Bark Canoe, by John McPhee - A Christmas gift from my family in Georgia, I had no idea what to expect picking this up. It turns out to be a combination of travelogue, historical overview, and biography centered around one Henri Vaillancourt, a young man in 1975 Vermont obsessed with crafting birch bark canoes with traditional native American methods and tools. For the most part. Unless he doesn't want to. The portion of the book that covers a long and challenging canoe trip with him, the author, and a few others does not paint him in a flattering light, except when it comes to the care of their crafts. McPhee's writing is what I think of a mid-century masculine - staccato, steeped in Hemingway, but brisk and illustrative. I never would have picked this up on my own but I'm glad I read it.

Carsick, by John Waters - Another Christmas gift, this one from my sister. I really should ask her if she read it. John Waters takes three hitchhiking trips across America - an imagined delight, and imagined disaster, and an actual journey. This is really only my second exposure to his work, outside of his presence in the vague pop culture fog. (The first was as a freshman in college, renting Pink Flamingos from the city independent video store as part of an evening entertaining a visiting prospective student. It went well.)

So not knowing really what to expect, I was thrilled to see him invent something like a roadtrip of the valkyries for himself, writing the weird and sordid into existence, and conjuring old lost friends from the dead for another surprise visit. Then the awful trip I would... also find awful. The actual trip was made in 2014, a strange time for technology. He's interacting with Twitter, but has also been convinced to carry a separate satellite tracking device, which doesn't always work. He encounters an Outback Steakhouse for the first time. It's a ride.

Maps and Legends, by Michael Chabon - In the same Christmas package as Carsick this comes from my sister. I have never heard of this author, but he is apparently well-established, at least enough to write a book about writing books. I skipped one of the essays, thinking it dissects a story I hope to read one day... but now I can't remember which one. The Golden Compass is now thoroughly spoiled, though. The personal essays got a little confusing in retrospect after a later one was revealed to be a speech that included several constructed stories. He seems incisive on his subjects, but I was not familiar with most of the comics or authors he was discussing, or his own work, so it was essays standing on their own for me, and they stood admirably. I can appreciate his love for maps of places that don't exist and their ability to excite the imagination. The physical book is lovely, with a three-part nested cover.

A Mirror Mended, by Alix E. Harrow - It's early in the year, so I'm working my way through the Christmas stack still, as you might have noticed. This one comes from my wife, and she got me the predecessor on a Christmas past. A fine novelette retelling of Snow White. Dimension hopping abounds, and the protagonist's many adventures between the two books are deftly touched on. Bittersweet as a late summer apple.

Watchmen, by Alan Moore & Dave Gibbons - Noticed I didn't have it on the shelf, and figured I must have lent it to someone when I still saw people. Ordered up a new copy, and then it was just sitting there so, yep. Not much to say. A classic for all the reasons, and every page, heck every panel, invites further study. Feels too real right now.

The House in the Cerulean Sea, by TJ Klune - Back to the Christmas stack. This romance was a gift from my wife. I do not usually read romances, not because I think love is icky, but knowing there must be a Happily Ever After at the end of the journey tends to muck with guide posts for me along the way. But here it was, so here I went. 

You ever hear someone with a persistent sniffle during a test in school? And once you hear it, you can't stop waiting for it, and throws you off the whole effort? The main character in this book sweats every three pages, I swear. I kept waiting for it, to the distraction of whatever else was going on with the love interest or the supernatural orphans in their care.

The Transgalactic Guide to Solar System M-17, by Jeff Rovin - A friend back in high school found this at a thrift store and gave it to me. I read it then and it sat burbling away at the back of my mind since then, and I think this is the first time I read it as an adult. What an outsider art entry into speculative fiction. It's presented as an illustrated in-universe guide to the titular galaxy for Earth tourists to five planet/moon systems that seem to get weirder as you move out from the sun M-17. There's proto-civilizations, alien philosophies, mysterious lifeforms, magic and ghosts for some reason, scientific mysteries, and five, FIVE, alien language glossaries.

Absolute brain candy for teenage me.

Terry Pratchett: A Life With Footnotes, by Rob Wilkins - From the Christmas gifts from my wife stack. I do not read a lot of biographies, so don't have a reliable measuring stick, but this one seems excellently done. The focus is relentlessly on Pratchett, but the people and family he's known move in and through that focus deftly. I've been a Discworld fan since high school, so learning more about the author seemed long overdue. He seemed like, to put it mildly, a cool guy, and also, to put it mildly, rather a handful. The world didn't work the way he wanted it to but he gave his damndest to write the world he wanted into shape and you have to think he succeeded at least a little. He deserved better than what he was dealt, but did so much with that hand. Definitely putting some Discworld at the top of the pile after this one.

Books Completed February 2024

This is like the blurriest photo ever, you'll just have to trust me on this one.

Fairy Tale, by Stephen King - I hadn't heard of this one until my mom mentioned it, and that she had an extra copy someone had given her, and she was planning to listen to it, and would I like to read it too and talk about it? I suppose it's out there on the Internet if you want it, but talking about a book with someone who has also read it has been an elusive goal for my weird old broken brain for a good many years now, so I said yes, and she mailed it to me. 

This is a Stephen King book. I think the newest one I've read before this was volume something-something of the Dark Tower. He's got exactly the weird place in my childhood of probably too early novels scavenged from yard sales and libraries that he'd be proud of, I hope. I won't say much about the story itself, other than I broadly enjoyed it, and there's probably some literary cleverness in all the allusions that I'm missing. What I was most glad about was getting to talk about a book with my mom though. Apparently my brother has also, independently, read this, so it might be a double dip!

Drifting Dragons, by Taku Kuwabara - My wife got this for me as a surprise. The dragons are very cool and imaginative while they're alive, but once the crew of the story's airship turns them into meat the cooking aspects of this manga fall flat for me. Maybe it's because it's the introductory volume but none of their motivations really grabbed me.

Hamburger and Hot Dog Book, by Good Housekeeping and the year 1958 - A slap in the face in every page. I'll spare the details, but "shredded hot dogs" should not have ever been an ingredient in anything, and yes they involve a gentle freeze and a box grater, holy crap. Okay, actually, the winner was the recipe that involved those, and canned pineapple, and egg yolks, and was then served on waffles and topped with slivered almonds.

Schott's Original Miscellany, by Ben Schott - We had this on the bathroom bookshelf back in our first apartment, and I pulled it for similar uses this month. Won't say I read line for line, but it's still worth a chuckle ("1 millihelen is the amount of beauty needed to launch a single ship", but in chart form).

The Singing Hills Cycle, by Nghi Vo - My wife got me the second two books of this for Christmas, so I reread The Empress of Salt and Fortune just to get back into it before picking up the other two. All are delightful stories-within-stories, and a series I have to brake on pushing into the hands of so many people. My wife also read TEoSaF and enjoyed it, and we got to have a little discussion about it, so that's two in one month.

Delicious in Dungeon Vol. 1-11, by Ryōko Kui - A re-read, except for volume 11, apparently because I'm watching the anime. It wasn't a conscious decision, just something I picked off the shelf. Still great. The odd thing here is for the first time while watching an anime, I've read the source material while my wife hasn't, and I keep watching her face at key moments. I have since read volume 12, have backordered 13, and am waiting on 14 to be released.

CCC Charms 1

Some simple, one-use magic items for an upcoming weird west, 5e-ish campaign.

A wizard can study these charms as if they were scrolls for purposes of expanding their spellbook and add a normal version of the spell to it, but doing so consumes their magic as if they had been cast.

---

This pig-leather poke of 99 clinking discs of fool's gold can be used to cast friends once. The target of the spell will believe the discs to be gold coins for the duration, as well.

A pair of knucklebone dice, each wrapped in the end of a rawhide tether. If hung from the handle or wrapped around the body of a walking stick or staff, they can be used to cast shillelagh on it. When you do, the dice clatter against each other - roll 2d6. On anything less than a 7, they crumble.

An iron rail spike that looks like it just came out of the foundry, glowing with a soft red light, but strangely casting no warmth. Striking it with a hammer loudly ignites it to the brightness of a candle for a minute. Striking it again while it glows this way causes it to flare up to red-tinged light spell for an hour, after which it becomes an ordinary rail spike.

This snuff pouch is made of waxy reeds woven tightly together. Filled with herbs, it can be used to cast druidcraft once, but the effect always manifests accompanied by a sneeze.

In full, bright sunlight, this burnished tin hand mirror can be used to cast fire bolt with a 300' range, and then melt.

A handful of jagged, magnetized scrap-iron needles. Toss them into the air to cast wrathful smite, and they will hover around you. When you hit and trigger the spell, the needles fly out and pierce the target, giving them disadvantage on any save to end the frightened condition imposed by the spell.

A bent and reforged cavalry saber handle forms the grip of this oak walking stick. It can be used once to invoke the soldier's memories that infuse it, casting longstrider on the bearer and allowing them to use the stick as a saber for the duration.

This delicate yew dowsing wand trembles in the presence of blood, granting advantage on checks to follow a trail to the wounded, but casts healing word on its quarry and becomes nonmagical as soon as it comes within 60 feet.

Anyone proficient with a playing card set can use this deck of gold-gilt playing cards as if the spell was on their class list. These decks are becoming more common, everyone involved in a game where one is introduced can make an Arcana check to recognize it. As part of play, the owner of the deck can command one other player to lose the game (giving disadvantage on any checks for the game), or, sometimes more sinisterly, to win the game (giving advantage). At the end of the game, the gilt has worn off on the players' fingers, and the deck becomes a regular, non-magical deck of cards.

Several tiny glass vials of patent veterinary medicine. The labels make it unclear which are appropriate for which animals, but the smells are unmistakably alluring. When used to cast animal friendship, also roll a d6: On a 1, the target animal attacks immediately; On a 6, the effect is permanent.

A mycelium-riddled railway map points the way towards routes not yet established, and ones long since rotted. It can be used to cast pass without trace once, and fungus and slimes will eat the footsteps of those who follow its dampened paths. If cast in the desert it simply desicates.

Deep in this cheaply printed religious pamphlet for One Eyed Jack, a misalignment (?) of characters is actually a prayer of spider climb.

A finger ring of white salt, that doesn't melt despite humidity or sweat. You can eat it as a ration, or eat it to cast mirror image. If you're somewhere salty, attacks against the images have disadvantage.

This wallet of reeking cigars can be use to cast locate animals or plants - the smoke that drifts from them indicates the direction. Adding a bit of the quarry to the cigar will double the range.

Poems of loss and fidelity grace this embroidered linen hanky. It can be used to cast wind wall if fluttered as if in farewell, at which point the embroidery unravels and falls out.

A clockwork toy donkey that can happily stomp around and bray when wound up. Wound in a certain unintuitive combination, though, it brays... backwards? somehow? in a dissonance that replicates dispel magic. After this it continues its playful aspects, somehow looking more pleased with itself.

This pair of wooden hare statuettes is carefully (and demurely) interlocked. When teased apart, they crumble, and a stinking cloud effect of boisterous charging bunnies, dust, musk, and... scents erupts.

An old leather dog collar scratched with the name "Bo". It can be used to cast polymorph once, changing the subject into an shambly hound dog for the duration. Since only one form is available by using the item, the target has disadvantage on their saving throw.

A finely printed religious pamphlet for Factumus that can be used to cast staggering smite. If all the dice come up the same, the book is not expended in the casting.

An old, dry cardboard box tied with a faded black ribbon. Inside is a dried grave wreath. It can be used to cast seeming, but only to create the appearance of a funerary party with out-of-date fashions, with a duration of 24 hours, at which point a ghost appears and reacts as if it had observed its own funeral again.

Books Completed January 2024

 

The Game Master's Book of Astonishing Random Tables, by Ben Eglof - A surprise gift from my friend Bud, who got a copy for themselves as well. This does what it says on the tin for the most part, and is pages and pages of tables for fantasy RPGs, with a strong focus on 5e D&D without saying that. The first section on world-building seemed like decent advice, but quite unlikely to fall into the hands of someone who would need it. The second section is the meat of the book, and I won't say I read every line, but there's inspiration here. The random encounter tables could have used more cross-referencing to other tables in the book and fewer "1d6 [level-appropriate monsters] leap from nowhere". The three one-shot adventures at the end were the weak part of the book, only ever utilizing the wealth of tables as a seeming afterthought, and broadly feeling like railroads in the worst 2e tradition, though the mystery had an approach to the solution that was useful for a one-shot.

Mourka, by Tanaquil Le Clercq (Author) and Martha Swope (Photographer) - Before there were cat blogs, there was Life magazine. I received this as an Xmas gift from my cousin Nate, and it expounds on a famous cat photo from the 1964, telling the fictitious exploits of a real rescue cat owned by a real ballet director. The photos are cut together with more than amateur but less than professional expertise, and that makes it fun. It's like a printed tweet thread.

boing

New England Cook Book of Fine Old Recipes, by Kay Morrow - A gift from my brother for Xmas. This is from 1936, and falling apart a bit, sadly. Another one of those old cookbooks that really hammers home how cheap and available seafood used to be, and how maaaybe that wasn't a great idea. Not too many show stopper recipes in here, though sour-cream and raisin pie stands out. Oh, and

a gentleman's dish

What Moves the Dead, by T. Kingfisher - An Xmas present from my wife (there is a theme this month). A retelling and exploration of Poe's Fall of the House of Usher, which I had just so happened to read in December. A delightful and spooky little tale that really leans into the italicized bits of its inspiration (it's the fungi). Describing the inhuman in a relatable way is always a challenge, and Kingfisher rises to it while riffing on the source material admirably but not obsessively.

The Kaiju Preservation Society, by John Scalzi - Source: See above. I think I might have been banter-deprived, because this book delighted me, and it is a rich seam of banter My banterometer is full now.

Legends & Lattes, by Travis Baldree - Source: See above. A slow and (generally) kind fantasy romance that I really enjoyed. I showed my friend Bud the cover and they picked it up with no further information and are also enjoying it. I should seek out more books like this, it took my blood pressure down a few points without ever being saccharine.

Career Cat, by Eleanor Harris - In the same vein as Mourka, above, and from the same source (thank, Nate) this would have been a blog post or a tweet thread these days. It follows the life of a cat in the 50s in New York who becomes famous for numerous advertisements. The origin story seems a little too fabulous to believe, but not enough for me to dig in and try to confirm or refute it. Handsome cat, to be sure, I do wish this version had been in color.

Caribbean Cookbook, by Rita G Springer - I found this in a little free library, along with a trove of other cookbooks from the 60s. It's fascinating in its completeness - it's not a cookbook of, say, Caribbean recipes, but a cookbook of how to cook in the Caribbean, down to how to make coffee, or what to serve for Christmas. There is a continual focus on nutrition and economy that aligns with the author's home economics credentials stated in the introduction. It's another seafood-heavy cookbook that feels like it's from another time.

The Mold Farmer, by Rick Claypool - I actually read this in December, but forgot to include it in that post, so rolling it over here. A gift from my friend Daniella, this novelette uses Lovecraftian tropes to tell a harrowing and odious story of oppression through the life of the titular mold farmer. I think I might need to read this one again and really sit with it. I bet if you had children it would hit a different chord. It's one of those ones I can't say I liked, but it was impactful. 

Kidnapped, by Robert Louis Stevenson - A little free library find. Kind of hard to believe this was children's literature back in the days. Maybe kids are soft now, or maybe we didn't care about them at all back then. Hard to imagine a middle ground, and I'm in my mid-forties and grew up with unrestricted and voracious access to a library back then. Anyway, this was a ride, and I want to watch a couple of the many film adaptations. I simply did not have the religious background that was assumed the average (ten year old?) reader would have, but I loved the characters (when they weren't dying horribly).

The ABCs of Casseroles, by Ruth McCrea - An Xmas gift from my brother. This is a supermarket checkout book from 1954 that sticks to the gimmick of its title and arranges dozens of casserole recipes alphabetically. Some are pretty forced, like "Johnny's Favorite" or "XYZ Pudding", but they're all cookable at least. I wasn't left craving any. There's also a little rhyme and period illustration for each letter, which are cute.

Books Completed December 2023

  

A Christmas Bestiary, by John Kenn Mortensen and Benni Bødker -Think I saw this promoted when I was ordering Night Terrors, and it'd be one of the few times I can remember an internet ad actually working. This is an advent calendar of Christmas and Yuletide related beasts, spirits, and spooks mostly from Scandinavia, with pointers for the reader on their danger levels and survival tips. I picked up a copy for my brother as well with the intent we'd each read a page a day. Really a fun ride and glad to have it my stack of Christmas books now.

North American Lake Monsters, by Nathan Ballingrud - My friend Daniella kindly sent me a stack of books from Lovecraft Arts & Sciences, and this was among them. I thought it was a bestiary at first glance, but it turned out to be a collection of grim and haunting short stories, many centered around New Orleans, all centered around something sucking at the heart of whatever America is, with the supernatural aspects applied more for contrast of that in most cases than as the real horror themselves. Quick and gripping reads with some genuinely unsettling moments.

The Old Farmer's Almanac Colonial Cookbook, edited by Clarissa M. Silitch - Received this from my parents for Christmas. I'm pretty sure I have another version of this somewhere, or something quite, quite similar, but I can't find it. Does what it says on the tin - a collection of colonial-era recipes, adjusted for modern measurements in most cases, if not modern tastes. I do not particularly want to try the ham-stuffed calves' ears, for example, but most of these look fine, if demanding more time than I have these days. It definitely has some rose-colored glasses on in the historical anecdotes that accompany some recipes in how it discusses Native Americans and the "servants", ahem, at several plantations.

The Shortest History of India, by John Zubrzycki - Sometime last year I realized rather out of the blue I know very little about India despite working with many people who live there. So I looked around and ordered a few books, and this is the first one I finished. I now still know that I know very little about India, but I'm more aware of the depths of my ignorance, so, that's a start. Cramming 5,000 years of history into under 300 pages is obviously never going to be more than a survey, which is why I was surprised the author often chose to linger on some episodes that felt sensationalist, or graphically violent. But I had to start somewhere, and it was a good read overall. Also, apparently, there is a whole line of short histories by this publisher, so I may get more to fill in some other gaps in my education once I winnow down my TBR pile.

Hogfather, by Terry Pratchett - I read this every year for Christmas. Still holds up, not much new to say. I lent an extra copy to a neighbor, but haven't had the chance to see what she thought of it. This year the character of Violet stuck out to me more than usual. I noticed she made some contradictory statements and got to wondering if that was on purpose to show her rather flighty personality, or an editing mistake. Maybe I'll remember to look around for others' thoughts some day. Probably not. In any case, a tradition I look forward too each year - there are not many books at all I read over and over.

The Notes and Commonplace Book of H. P. Lovecraft - Another entry from Daniella's gift stack. This is a reproduction of a facsimile of a notebook where HPL scribbled his half-formed ideas and bits of inspiration as they struck from whatever source, mostly as sentence fragments. I have several books that reference this, and knowing of it made me start one of my own years ago, but somehow I never actually read it until now, so that felt nice. You can see which of these ideas were developed into stories, and which never quite justified it (vampire seals, looking at you). The second half of the book is summaries of dozens of works he considered interesting or inspirational, but I only read the ones for stories I'd read, of which there were only seven or eight, for fear of spoilers. It is, however, a great-looking reading list once, again, I winnow down the current TBR pile from Christmas.

Books Completed November 2023

The Narrative of A. Gordon Pym of Nantucket, by Edgar Allan Poe - I pulled this from the shelf from a collection my wife has had for ages and ages after finishing the manga of At The Mountains of Madness last month, which was so heavily inspired by this. A few years ago, I was writing a pirate TTRPG that I put aside after learning too much about actual piracy - if I'd read this back then, it might have pushed me onward. There's some absolutely weird tonal thumps in here that don't connect with the modern reader, and I mean thumps like shoes in a drier. The framing is bizarre, and there's the requisite early 1800's racist subplot, but on the whole I'm glad to have read this, especially knowing all the other works it's inspired over the centuries. Love how you could just... stop writing a serialized story back then and be like "figure it out, weirdos".

Cookbook of the Seven Seas, by Dagmar Freuchen - Part of a trove of 1960's cookbooks I found in a little free library. It's not explicitly framed as such, but this is an homage by the author to her husband, who died unexpected on an exploration trip. His memory touches every chapter, which are based around how the couple interpreted the seven seas of the world. The only recipe I bookmarked was about making rice pudding with Coca Cola and a single almond merely to make my own spouse shudder. It's a sweet and sad cookbook illustrated by the author, her own vanished world wrapped in other layers of disappearance here for me decades later.

Taste of Eritrea, by Olivia Warren - Same cache of books, but from the 90s. I can't find out anything else about the author, but the subtitle for this one is "Recipes from one of East Africa's most interesting little countries". Hrm. Well, it's autobiographical of her several-month stay, and she seems to have had a lovely time. The recipes themselves are two thirds "yes, cook food with spices" and one third "oh no that would take three days". Her hopes for the country itself have not turned out quite the way she hoped, sadly.

Saga Vol. 11, by Fiona Staples and Brian K. Vaughan - Forgot I ordered this, and got a nice little mailbox surprise. It's more Saga, it's more "war is awful" drum beat, but a few surprising character moments. The dream sequence/flashback is getting a little tired as a storytelling device, no matter how much of an excuse it gives to draw dead characters. Still, looking forward to the next one.

42: The Wildly Improbable Ideas of Douglas Adams, edited by Kevin Jon Davies - I Kickstartered this and a 42nd birthday present to myself, thinking the timing was just too good. The pandemic slammed research and production though, and I just got it this year, having almost forgotten about it. The drafts and scraps of unproduced works I found the most fascinating, these stories that'll never be fully told. The letters that his friends were invited to write were a touching addition I don't recall seeing in other anthologies. I think I'm going to have to pull some of his books off the shelves soon after reading this, I haven't touched them in too long.

Worlds Beyond Time: Sci-Fi Art of the 1970s, by Adam Rowe - I got this new, but I can't remember where I heard of it. I was at first surprised at quantity of the writing, expecting more of an art book, but then pleased by its quality and the context it set. The production quality is quite nice, which is fitting of the gorgeous subject matter. I want to take another couple lazy passes at this one, just soaking in the imagination oozing out of these pages.