TwentySevenLetters / B

Rescinding anticipated disappointment

I finished the Robert Wilson collection over the weekend. Some of the stories toward the end were a little weaker than the ones at the beginning (I get the impression that he front-loaded the book when organizing it), but overall it was pretty enjoyable. Yay for good sci-fi!

Today I started Peter Pan in Scarlet, which I bitched about last March. I’m about a quarter of the way through it now, and while it still grates on my every nerve to know that this is a legally-authorized sequel to the original story of the Boy Who Could Fly, it’s a lot better than I expected. There’s already excitement, suspense, joy. And it’s witty. A different kind of witty from the original—the wordplay is more in starting a sentence with a metaphor and making it literal by the end—but it still works. I haven’t seen all that much of Peter yet (a bit, and rest assured he’s the same cocky boy he was all those years ago), but I expect his part will get significantly larger. And yes, they’ve acknowledged that Hook is dead. We’ll see where this goes… I’ll report back after I’ve finished it.

The weekend just past didn’t hold much for me in terms of reading or other cultural developments. It did, however, involve lots of Katamari Damaci (so much that I dreamed I was, as myself, running around rolling stuff up), the unspeakably awesome Street Fighter movie (poor, poor Raul Julia), and the creation of both fresh marshmallows (yum, but the sugar crash is an hour after one is a force to be reckoned with) and blackberry-flavored Turkish Delight (which overcooked, due to the gooeyness that collects on the candy thermometer and prevents it from getting an accurate temperature reading). The Turkish Delight comes from Wikipedia’s recipe, which led to some interesting discussion with friends: “You need to be careful with those, that nobody added in ‘1 Tbsp poison’ or anything. You’d just think, ‘oh, the sugar will cancel that out’ but really everyone would be dead.”

The Inner Inner City

A million years ago (October 1998, according to Google) I read a short story in the magazine Realms of Fantasy (yes, I had a subscription; yes, you can shut the hell up about that) called The Inner Inner City. It was good enough that I still remember it all these years later--but I couldn't tell you a single other story I'd read in there now, so it must have been something.

Because it's still on my mind 8 years after the fact, I did a bit of sleuthing. Turns out it was written by Robert Charles Wilson, and it's included in his ollection The Perseids and other stories.

I got it from the library. I didn't have high hopes for it--what stories can actually hold up the appeal 10 years later? And how many short stories will actually seem good when you're reading them immediately after finishing the new Kelly Link collection? (Which is AMAZING, by the way; if you're not already reading her, get thee to a bookstore!) And I have to say... I was pleasantly surprised. I wasn't inclined to read the rest of the collection, so I skipped ahead to The Inner Inner City. And it was good--better than I remembered, even. The writing is tight, yet lyrical. His ideas are fully developed, as are his characters. (Most of them, anyway. The ones that matter.) The story is so much more fascinating than I remember it being, maybe because I'm older now and can better understand the impact of inventing one's own religion. And now I'm reading the rest of the collection.

I'm still not sure I'm inclined to read his novels--they sound a little too mass-market sci-fi-y for my tastes--but this collection is actually really good. Some of the stories sound mildly familiar, but not quite like I've read them before--more like similarities to other authors' short stories I've liked. It's almost savory, for want of a word; it's not the kind of writing that deserves cover art of spaceships and large-breasted women with ray guns.

It's funny how easy it is to forget that I like science fiction, even though I've been reading it all this time. I'm completely in love with Jonathan Lethem, and it never occured to me that Girl in Landscape, or Amnesia Moon, or even As She Climbed Across The Table were sci-fi (see: absense of spaceships, large breasts, and/or ray guns). And now I'm preaching with the faith of the converted, but... dang. You should be reading these people. Are you?

Been busy

I've been busy, but not with anything blog-worthy. Some cooking, some baking, some Katamari Damacy. Kelly Link's new collection (Magic For Beginners) is every bit as great as her first collection. Chicken pot-pie is a yummy, filling dinner and easy to make. Obviously I'm accomplishing a lot.

But I do still exist; I haven't fallen off the face of the earth. That's all the update I have right now.