Feb/100
Day 31 of 365 – The Summer Tree, A Book I Couldn’t Finish
(365 days of 15 minutes presents Rushed Reviews! Where I demonstrate I have no reviewing ability whatsoever in as quick a time frame as possible. So…excelsior!)
There are very few books I’ll put aside. I don’t do it lightly. Mostly because I feel like I’m invested in the book, both in terms of time and the dollars I spent on it. I also feel like everyone should get a fair shake, in that I should see something through all the way before judging it.
With this in mind, I picked up Guy Gavriel Kay’s first book of the Fionavar Tapestry, ‘The Summer Tree’. Kay comes *highly* recommended from one end of the book-o-sphere to the other, and this is the ‘classic’ series where he made a name for himself. So I thought it would be a good place to start.
It wasn’t.
There are possibly spoilers for the beginning of the book here, so if you haven’t read it, look away.
I couldn’t make it through five total chapters before I had to put it away. Now, I’ll grant the age of the book, 1984, but that’s not too long ago. It’s certainly not so far into history that the book should be as archaic and derivative as the opening felt.
That might not be fair, but it’s the way I came into the book. Maybe I’ve seen too many ‘transported to alternate world from Earth’ stories, and this one was the story that sent me tipping over the edge. I couldn’t get past those opening chapters without the prejudgment I had equipped getting in the way of everything.
Now it’s entirely possible I didn’t give the book enough time. Perhaps it picks up or feels a little different later on. I don’t know. Maybe in the future I’ll try to read it again. But not anytime soon. I didn’t react well to the first turn.
I’m not a reviewer. I don’t know how to critically analyze a book like so many of the awesome bloggers out there. I just know what doesn’t work for me, and ‘The Summer Tree’ absolutely did not work for me. And this isn’t to say that I won’t read other Kay works outside of the Fionavar Tapestry. So many of his other books come so highly recommended and just look and sound good that I won’t hesitate to give them a shot.
So I might just chalk this up to a reader and a particular book just not able to get along.
Feb/104
Day 30 of 365 – In Where I Admit I Have a Book Problem
Once upon a time, children, and it was a very long time ago…ok, not really, but it was easily like 13 years ago, which for me is a third of my life ago.
Jeebus, I did NOT just do the math on that and begin a post that was going to be about me waxing nostalgic for something that seems like yesterday but was in fact ONE THIRD OF MY LIFE AGO.
Dammit.
Getting off track here. Focus, dummy.
Anyway, THIRTEEN years ago I made a very, very bad mistake. Something so horrible, so unlike me, so…stupid, that as I look back upon it, I cannot believe I actually did it.
And the decision I made that day haunts me to the here and now.
I took a tremendously large box of books and gave them to the library.
*cue evil music*
I know many of you out there are experiencing what amounts to a small puff of wind, certainly not enough to bowl you over as you think: “Wait…what?”
Doesn’t sound like much does it? A simple act of charity. A housekeeping measure. I took a large box of books to the library to donate them. And it has haunted me ever since.
Seriously. I think about them all the time. I can’t get over the fact that I talked myself into giving up a portion of my own book collection to a library.
For most of you, this might be a good thing. An act of altruism that is giving the gift of reading to hundreds, if not thousands of people. Because it has been a while, and I’m sure they’ve been checked out, by grubby, dirty hands. Over and over.
But for me, it’s a nightmare.
You see, I’m a little OCD about my books. They’re mine. To do with as *I* please. And it is my pleasure that they sit on my shelf after they’ve been read to be admired and then read again when I want.
I have nothing against libraries at all. I LOVE the concept of libraries. I love using libraries for books I don’t have or may never get. But my books are MINE. And no one elses. When I buy them, I feel like I’ve entered into an adoption agreement and they get to come live with me in exchange for entertaining and inspiring me. They become my children. So if I were to abandon a box of books at the library then it would be like abandoning my own kids.
And that can’t happen.
The books I gave up were mostly tie-in SFF. Stuff like Battletech and Forgotten Realms novels. Dragonlance. Even some Xanth – the early dozen or so.
But here’s my real problem: I know there were more than that. And I can’t remember what they were! So not only did I abandon my books, I’ve forgotten them.
My shame knows no bounds.
So in the hopes of righting this wrong, I’ve started a rememberance file in my gmail account. Anytime I remember a book that was lost, I email myself the author and title in the hopes of one day being able to reclaim it.
It won’t be the same, since it won’t be the same book. But at least the essence of it – the story – will still be with me.
My time is up, and I’ve admitted too much at this point. I am a book freak. Or really just a freak. No need for the qualifier.
Feb/100
Day 29 of 365 – A Bunchastuff That I Collect Into One Post
This is a post about miscellania, because I love the word miscellania.
To say that I’m tired would be an understatement. I’m very far behind on the 365/15 due to a number of circumstances, but if you think I’m giving up, your crazy. I feel, even in this extremely short time – fundamentally about 1/12th of the time I’ve set aside for this little *cough* project – that I’ve improved marginally in some of my writing.
The three episode sequence of Blue and Grim waxing philosophic and trading insults on the wind swept hills was a great exercise for me, because I don’t feel like I do dialogue that well, but with those two old bastards, I feel like it just tumbled out. I guess I can do cantankerous well? Take what you can get, I s’pose.
So like I said, I’m dog tired. My oldest son just turned six this week, and my mom was in town to help celebrate. We’re really quite lazy people over here, and she’s very go-go-go all the time. It’s hard to keep up. I just want to nap.
I can’t believe my little buddy is six. He’s just ridiculously smart, in almost a scary way. Just halfway through kindergarten he can do addition, subtraction, multiplication and division if there aren’t too many digits. But he’s working on bumping that up. He can do a little elementary algebra (basic missing variable type stuff; e.g. 5 + x = 13, so what is x?). But the funkiest part of all is that he has whole books memorized and can recite them from memory. We’re talking the advanced Dr. Suess tongue twisters here, not just little board books. Also chapter books like the Magic Tree House series.
Can recite. From memory.
If it sounds like I’m bragging, it’s because I am.
Seriously, I hope that he can still be challenged soon, because he absorbs this stuff like a sponge. It’s ridiculous.
Luckily, he’s grounded because his father knows a plethora of fart jokes and is good at wrestling six and four year olds.
Happy birthday, buddy. I love you.
———
In other news, I’m fairly convinced that Catherynne Valente is the smartest writer that we have putting word to parchment working today. Her output is both massively intelligent and prolific, which is sickening if you think about it. I may have to reactivate ninja assassin Team Zero and take care of her once and for all. She makes the rest of us look bad, and we can’t have that, can we?
In the meantime, before I eliminate her, go buy one of her books, preferably NOT through Amazon, and marvel at her storytelling ability. She even has free serialized novels on her site.
Brilliant AND generous? Oh yes, she is going down.
——-
Lastly, when I get rich and go crazy, I will spend much of my vast fortune buying up ridiculously expensive Lego Star Wars sets and constructing a replica of the Battle over Coruscant in my living room. At $100+ a pop, it shouldn’t take too long, right?
Right?
Feb/100
Day 28 of 365
(Ugh. This is pure shite, but a deadline is a deadline. As pleased as I was with the last three, this one stinks and that’s no lie.)
Grim knicked Ark back around, after giving a glance at Blue. The short man was lost in thought, staring at the approaching army, but not really seeing them right now. He knew the hellish road Grim had been down, literally.
Blue would walk, sword in hand, to the ends of the earth for him. That’s what made Grim afraid; that this day would come again and he’d be forced to have his friends clean up his messes once again. He’d be damned if that happened once more.
The old demon slumbered still, that much he could tell from his dreams. But they were fitful ones. And if Grim stirred in his sleep, so did that bastard. The two of them were tied together forever, so the wizard Kimak had swore at him, forever chasing one another every cycle.
Well, the next one was coming, Grim frowned. He could feel it in his bones. This time maybe it would be better if he went it alone.
“You’re living up to your name right now. I swear, if you could see your face…”
Grim refocused. Blue was trotting beside him, and Ark had been moving at a slow canter back down the wind-wracked hills where the Company had set up it’s encampment.
“Hrump.”
The wind was at their backs now and Grim felt the urgency, so he let Ark drop into a gallop, taking the road – a well-worn path really, carved from centuries of caravan traders – back towards camp. Blue followed as he automatically did, even as he wondered what would become of them now.
Jan/100
Day 27 of 365
“I could tell you it’s because the General ordered us out here. Goes with being brigade captains, right? But that ain’t it. You and me have seen and done plenty for the Company. There’s younger ones that could be out here.”
“That’s what I’m saying. Haven’t we earned the right to let the kids do this now?” Blue shifted in his saddle, checking on the hand-and-a-half sword that was sheathed there. He wasn’t inclined to whine too much, but fuck all it was cold.
“I don’t know, Blue. Being out here – I like the silence, I can tell you that. But that don’t square with forward scouting. I could get silence anywhere.” Grim went silent for a minute. Blue cast a look at him, and he could see the old soldier wrestling with something in his head. The grey in his hair matched the mood of the sky, and the wrinkles at the edge of his eyes furrowed even more deeply.
He spoke again after a moment. “Lately I feel like I’m running from something, Blue. It’s been itching at the back of my mind again. That voice.”
“Damn. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“What good would it have done?”
“I…I don’t know. I don’t know if I could do anything. But I took the oath, Grim. I stood there with you and took the fucking oath. And I don’t shirk an oath.”
“You sure know how to shirk a reveille call. Or a post duty.” Grim let a smile creep to the corner of his mouth.
“Ha, ha. Fuck you. I’m being serious. How long has it been? Fifteen years?”
“Since I last heard the voice? Sixteen years, four months and thirteen days.”
“Well, don’t you worry, we’ll nail down a more specific time when we can get to an Oracle.” Blue rolled his eyes.
The wind flew in like a wave, crashing over them, and knocking the horses back a step.
“I don’t want what happened last time to happen again, Blue. I fear I can’t control it. So I hide out here on the fringes, and let you deal with the details.” Grim shrugged his shoulders in a sort of apology.
“You know I would to, you old bastard. Making the laziest man in the world actually work for a living is a capital crime. I’ll see you hung for this.”
They chuckled wryly. Blue inwardly swore. Sixteen years ago he was a much younger man, and could properly help his old friend beat the curse that had tracked him his whole life like a hound from the dark lands. But now…now, they both felt their age every morning.
Blue shifted in his saddle and looked around as if seeking an answer. He found one, but it wasn’t the one he wanted. It was, however, the one they’d been waiting for. What sun there was caught a gleam of metal on the horizon.
“Spears.” Grim spat. He had seen it too. “And a damn lot of them.”
“Let’s get on back then. General’ll want to know.”
Jan/100
Day 26 of 365
“Hrump.” Grim snorted. The horse snorted too. “Like hell you could have. You couldn’t hit the broadside of a galleon these days.” He didn’t turn around.
The voice came up from behind him, closer this time. Grim could hear the crunch of the other horses hooves on the dry grass.
“Could so. Your arse is as big as a galleon, so I had a fair shot.”
“Ark here heard you about a hundred yards back, Blue. Don’t you think he’d know a horse from his own herd. He told me it was you.”
“Told you? Your relationship that close now, is it? I knew you were partial to that beast, but hadn’t heard that you’d gone intimate.”
Ark the horse swung it’s head back, looking at Blue with a mouthful of grass, as if to say “Try it.”
Grim laughed. “He’s on to you, you old fart.”
Blue grinned in return. He knicked his own horse up next to where Grim sat on that knoll, patting Ark on the neck on the way by. The two men sat for a little bit, just drinking in the world. The only sounds were the occasional jingle of a bridal and the wind. The ever present wind.
“Nothing?” Blue knew the answer already, but he couldn’t help making small talk. Grim was reticent at the best of times, and the steppe really brought the silence to the forefront.
“I woulda told you if there had been, stupid.” He absentmindedly scratched at Ark’s mane, tugging on his gloves once again.
“Good comeback. Stupid. Really original.”
They sat for a little longer in silence until once again Blue broke the tense calm.
“What are we doing out here, Grim?”
“Huh? You damn well know why. That army is coming, and this is the likely direction. We’ve got the charge to keep an eye out for them.”
“Goddammit, Grim, that’s not what I meant. I mean look at us. We’re getting old. Tell me you don’t feel this wind. Tell me you aren’t hurting spending day after day in the saddle. We’ve done plenty for the Company. Why aren’t we in front of a roaring fire, with a drink in one hand and a tit in the other?”
Typical Blue, thought Grim. Always thinking with his libido.
Trouble was, Grim didn’t have any good answers anymore.
Jan/100
Day 25 of 365
The wind bit at him like a rabid wolf, snipping and snarling in anger. He gripped the reins a little tighter as it blew up and around him, finding every crack in his overcoat and lancing through his bones. He ground his teeth and hunched down further in the saddle. The horse was none to happy either; it’s head was down, trying to present a low profile to the attacking air that swept off the steppe.
The old chestnut had seen a few years, along with its master, and faithfully sat where it was told, though the rider could tell the animal was none to happy about it. He remembered back several years ago when he’d broke this horse. A wild thing that wouldn’t bear the weight of man or saddle, and to be sure had thrown any who’d tried. But he was different. He’d always had a way with horses, being able to talk to them, calm their nerves, sooth their frayed edges – even the wild ones off the steppe.
He wouldn’t ride another animal. One didn’t insult the animals you had by fraternizing with others. They could tell from the smell. So he would walk if he could ride his old friend.
So man and horse sat, casting their eyes across the yellow plain, the iron grey skies forever threatening rain, and watched for news of the coming of the army. Lightning touched some clouds in the far distance off to their right, but it was really too late into the year for a good soaking rain. Snow would be on soon, and the wind was just a harbinger of foul weather to come.
His eyes swept the horizon, back and forth, always looking for something to give away their arrival – the glint of metal, movement of a mass of men. Nothing yet. And still he knew that they were coming, and from this direction.
The old chestnut snorted, and resumed eating the grass on the knoll where they were perched. He patted the neck of the horse, then tugged his leather gloves for the tenth time, and pulled his overcoat to for the twentieth.
The horse quivered slightly as a noise came from behind him. He sat impassively, eyes still searching.
“Grim, I could have shot you dead.”
Jan/102
Day 24 of 365 – Medieval Times
I’m 37 years old. Often I feel every one of those years. Parts of me hurt that shouldn’t, or at least I think they shouldn’t. Mentally, unless I’m just plain exhausted, I feel like I’m still in my 20s. I think that’s the real curse – letting the body get gnarly and heavy and tired before the mind goes, just so it can laugh at you and mock you for all the things you used to do but can’t now. We fight a lot, dontcha know.
So this 37 year old “kid” and about 40 of his coworkers were treated to an end-of-the-sales-quarter celebration at…wait for it…Medieval Times.
I’ll give you a moment to absorb that website in all it’s glory. Go on, take a look. I’ll wait. The videos are particularly interesting.
Back? Yes, indeed. Our management thought enough of us that as a reward for a quarter well done, we should all go and watch actors who had graduated out of the Society for Creative Anachronism beat each other down with lances, axes, swords and such. The acting was so over the top that it transcended bad. It went far past that back around to fun to watch. And I have to keep in mind that I’ve been there once before – when I was 17 and in high school and deep, deep, deep into D&D and other FRPGs. Back then I thought it was fun as shit. But I wasn’t too bright back then, either.
I suspect these “lords and ladies” know exactly how lame they sound, and lame it up even more just to have fun with the whole thing.
So here you’ve got over three dozen 20 to 40-somethings whooping it up along side more than 100 high school kids there for the same thing.
Did I forget to mention that? Five other high schools in the area were there at the same time we were and each had their own knight as a champion, for a total of six. We had a the Yellow knight, if you were wondering.
The food was actually pretty good, so I’ll complement them on that. So a couple of hours of The Cable Guy flashbacks later, after having watched a lot of sparks from clanging swords, splintering lances, and pratfalls from mock combat, (and yes indeed I hummed the battle music from the original Star Trek the whole time) we actually kind of enjoyed ourselves. Just because it was fun to yell curses at the other nights. I don’t think we cared that there were kids in the arena too. The fact of the matter is that there was a bar tab, something the kids didn’t have, and it made the experience a lot more enjoyable.
So our knight won, and probably because we were paying through the nose for an open bar. Money talks.
The room with the torture implements display was so cool it gave me the willies. Medieval Confession Extraction FTW.
Jan/100
Day 23 of 365
Grim gripped at his attacker, fending off teeth and claws while they rolled down the steep slope. He couldn’t match the beast strength for strength and there was a river at the bottom of this hill so he had to act fast. He loosened his grip slightly and pulled the monster toward him. Surprised, it let go for just a moment, but that was all that Grim needed. His hand flashed into his coat and a short knife came out.
It wasn’t stupid. The monster saw what Grim had done, but reacted too late. It renewed it’s attacks, grabbing at Grim. But Grim slashed and poked and cut as they went end over end down that the hill. They were little bites, and the beast gave as good as he got, but Grim could tell it was weakening with each thrust.
They hit a corpse on the way down, and as they fell apart, the monster managed to sink it’s teeth into Grim’s shoulder. He cried out in pain and lost the knife in the tumble.
At last they came to rest in the river, the freezing water adding to his pain and misery. He accidently drank in some of it and started to cough.
Fuck, he thought. The spasms kept him floundering in the water. He tried to look around was met with more water for his efforts. Grim lost track of the monster and finally splashed around enough to find shore and crawl out of it on his hands and knees, coughing up a storm. He made enough noise to wake all of the dead on that hill, but he couldn’t stop himself.
And somewhere, the monster was out there. No way it was killed on the way down.
His instinct was soon rewarded, he heard a gutteral growl and the hard language of the beast to his left.
Shit, shit, shit. Grim got up but met a kick in the mouth. He flew backwards and landed half in the mud, half in the water.
He was finished, but there wasn’t any way he was going down without a fight. Still coughing, he went for his two best knives inside his coat. He could barely grip them, but defiantly still beckoned the beast onward.
It bared fangs in what must have been a grin, crouched, and sprang at him.
An axe flew through the air and seperated the head of the beast from it’s body in mid-arc. The head flew into the river as the body fell on top of Grim.
“Ah!” he screamed, mostly out of surprise. Still coughing, he dropped his blades and kicked the thing off him. The spasms slowed slightly as he looked around in the dark and saw Blue grinning at him while leaning on a wicked looking battle axe.
“You bastard! *cough* What took you *cough* so long?”
“Next time roll down a smaller hill.” Still smiling, Blue thrust a hand at Grim and helped him to his feet.
Jan/100
Day 22 of 365
Not sure I have the energy to put words to screen tonight, since I just spent the last 3 hours scrubbing bathrooms, floors, kitchens and all manner of things around the home that both dog and boys can bring low. Oh my goodness, the smell. Well, thankfully it’s gone now and I can rest assured that it will be clean until they all wake up and wreck it again tomorrow.
Speaking of, have you seen my Craigslist ad for two boys and a dog? Going cheap. Email me for more information.
I will totally cheat and backdate this post to yesterday, you know. Much like happy hour, I know it’s still yesterday further west of me, so I’ll pretend the server is over there somewhere.
And now for something completely different.
———
Grim cut a slow path through the hard rain, following the muffled sound of Blue’s voice. Seemingly coming from every direction at once in the noise of the down pour, the dour-faced rookie stumbled down a hill littered with bodies, broken spears thrust through limp bodies, blood mingling with the rain into crimson rivers that ran with the mud. Cloven shields were scattered here and there, the occasional detached arm still grasping them from a sudden amputation.
An occasional moan, low and almost imperceptable, broke through the noise of the storm. Grim called out Blue’s name again.
“Here!” it came back weakly.
“You hurt, kid?” The sergeants voice came from behind Grim.
“A little, I think.”
They kept picking their way through the dead until they finally found Blue, nearly stepping on him. He was pinned under a brute of a man who had died with Blue’s sword thrust through his gut.
The sergeant grinned, “Forgot to move out of the way, huh?”
“Yeah, yeah. Get this bastard off of me! I’m like to drown out here.”
Snickering, the sergeant grabbed at the dead man’s arm and started to heave. Grim knelt down on the other side and they heaved the fat man’s corpse off and rolled it away. It was then that he saw the sergeant’s eyes go wide and he let out a scream. Before he could stand again, the old soldier fell forward onto Blue, a large spear protruding splitting his spine in two.
“Fuck!” Grim swept his sword out as a black shadow leapt over a cursing Blue. Before he could react their new assailant barreled straight into Grim and they tumbled down the hill into the stormy night.
Blue, his dead sergeant sprawled on top of him, could only look helplessly into the night.
(I lied. Guess I did have the energy. This is important to me, so there you go.)