(no subject)

A while back, fjm said, as an aside, in a comment on something, that a particular literary experience of mine ought be written up. I don't know if I've done quite what she wanted but I puzzled out why I hadn't written about the topic in detail elsewhere and I turned it into a narrative and lo, it's my new piece for Bibliobuffet: http://www.bibliobuffet.com/bookish-dreaming

I keep wanting to say that it's "Chaim Potok Meets Gillian Polack" in a daikaiju event, but really, it was just summer camp when I was an undergraduate. And I *was* an undergraduate. And he was a famous author from the other side of the world. And it was strange. Not as strange as the dance that Saturday evening, but still strange.

Even if you don't want to hear about Potok, read the article for the dance that Saturday. When you've read it, come back here and join in a chorus of "Just a jump to the left..."

City of Dreams and Nightmare - Ian Whates

The opening isn't wonderful - the authorial voice is a bit strong and overexplaining. In fact, the inner voices of characters are really this narratorial voice, too. It's disconcerting. The voice fades and the narrative improves and I was quite taken with the world of the book. The city reminded me of Glenda Larke's new trilogy. In tone, the novel itself reminds me of some of the Quentaris books*.

Anyhow, once the introductory set up is out of the way and we know that Tom (a street brat) has witnessed a murder and that all sorts of shenanigans are likely to happen as a result, the narrative gets into gear and starts flowing very smoothly. Tom is young and cocky and there's stuff in him he knows not of and he's about to be tested by the notice he has drawn through that murder he witnessed. A good setup. A fairly classic setup. Rather young adult in feel, this novel, full of adventure and incident and young people facing big challenges. Young Adult isn't something I associate with Angry Robot.

The city is layered (which is why it reminds me of Larke's books) and has a bunch of tensions resulting from the layers and who controls which streets. It also has non-humans, which is a nice touch. It means we simply don't know who we should be barracking for initially, apart from Tom and Tylus (the policeman-equivalent he's managed to annoy).

The thing that struck me, time after time, is that this is one of those books that pays hanging in there. It improves significantly after the narratorial beginning. It keeps on improving. I definitely want to read the sequel, which is interesting because the reason I read this when I swore I was finished, was Simon's review that said that he wanted to read the sequel.

Given I've just read a bunch of Angry Robot books in a very short time (and reminded myself of ones I read a bit earlier) this is a good moment to contemplate Angry Robot's house style. I'm beginning to be able to open a book and think "This is an Angry Robot book" the way I think "This is published by Small Beer." Most of them push genre boundaries: some very gently, some until they rock. An Angry Robot book is more likely to be bleak (thought Shevdon and Abnett definitely aren't) and is also more likely to have a fair amount of action.

*I'm in the middle of a massive period of reading: everything reminds me of something else right now. I'm in danger of opening my current working file and working out who my own writing reminds me of if I'm not careful.

(no subject)

I'm guilty of writing one last review. Also of starting in the middle, just to see if anyone noticed. I am done with reviewing for the moment. I know, I said that yesterday. This time I mean it.

The rest of my evening will be spent in front of the television fighting the good fight. I don't mean that I'll be struggling with remotes. I mean that I have a vast stack of paper that needs to be put in its place. Or places. Ready for work at a later date. or to be filled in and sent off now. Or to cause me problems because it was something I had to do last week and I was doing other things last week. That sort of paper war.

Also, I might edit some of my own fiction, just because I can.

Tomorrow I have an manuscript assessment to do and a meeting to attend and I am entirely determined to stop putting off work on my paper for AussieCon. After all, I promised myself I would have my first draft done by Friday and Wednesday's looking a bit busy.

Oh, and I made myself leek and chestnut soup, and I'm in the middle of making a beef, stout, bean and vegetable stew and various things to do with wild figs and port. Don't ask about the wild figs and port. I'm being inventive, and that's always a mistake.