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Well, I'm Back
Apr. 10th, 2022 01:39 pmIt's been almost exactly two years, which for me can be pretty much summed up with 1.) Pandemic; 2.) I graduated; 3.) I got a job! It was terrible!; 3.) I quit and got another job! It's less terrible!; and 4.) I drifted out of DW and fandom in general for what--to me--feels like a very long time. I've missed it.
I still don't feel like I have the bandwidth to write fic or get as involved in fandoms as I used to be, but I'm hoping to at least get back to tracking my reading, hopefully in a way that's a bit more organized and substantial. But for the sake of getting the ball rolling again, here are a few quick and dirty highlights from the past month or so:
Billy Summers by Stephen King
I don't think this is one of King's best books, but it is one of his very, very good books. Billy Summers is a one last job story and a hitman with a heart of gold story, but primarily it's a story about the power of stories and storytelling, the goodness of ordinary people, and the intensely loyal relationships that spring out of chance meetings and a powerful, unmet need for love and connection. So, very standard Stephen King (including some wonky stuff at the end--he tries to turn the book's central relationship romantic for, as far as I can tell, no good reason whatsoever), but it mostly works well, and I adored it.
The Beekeeper's Apprentice by Laurie R. King
Reread. A Sherlock Holmes continuation/retelling/self-insert fanfic with some MAJOR flaws, also incredibly immersive and very moving. It's in the 'Watson is an idiot' school of retellings, though if I'm remembering correctly that gets better in later books. Or maybe Watson quits showing up in later books. Anyway, this is an old favorite, even if certain parts of it are painful to reread. I'll probably continue with the rest of the series.
The Cass Neary series 1-3 by Elizabeth Hand
My current obsession. Most of the characters whom I tend to think of as antiheroes are actually just heroes with an iffy past or an attitude problem. At least compared to Cass Neary. Cass is a genuine antihero.
She's a photographer who published one book of photos, Dead Girls, in her early twenties before being raped and never really getting over that trauma; at the start of the series she hasn't shot a photo in years and is prone to terrible relationships and random acts of spite, like swiping a stranger's car keys (not because she needs a car--she just hides the keys in a dead, dried-out sea urchin). Cass get tangled up in murder mysteries because she's pathologically self-destructive and can't stay away from people who are damaged in the same ways that she is.
But she's also a sharp observer with an almost encyclopedic knowledge of photography and music and film, self-awareness, a sense of humor ("Looks like Sauron's fallen on hard times."), and a good eye. Cass is passionate about photography and photographers, about art and the people who create art. It's almost her only redeeming quality and definitely the one that keeps her head a bearable place to be in.
Of the first three books (Generation Loss, Available Dark, Hard Light), Available Dark might be my favorite; it's set in an especially dreary Iceland, features black metal and a couple of folk-horror-tinged ritual murders, and ends with another ritual that's both extremely disturbing and weirdly, transcendently beautiful. But the whole series is addictive. I'm a little more than halfway through the fourth and so far last, The Book of Lamps and Banners, and bracing for withdrawal.
(In my head, the True-Detective-style credits sequence for the prestige TV adaptation these books deserve is set to "White Foxes" by Susanne Sundfør.)
I still don't feel like I have the bandwidth to write fic or get as involved in fandoms as I used to be, but I'm hoping to at least get back to tracking my reading, hopefully in a way that's a bit more organized and substantial. But for the sake of getting the ball rolling again, here are a few quick and dirty highlights from the past month or so:
Billy Summers by Stephen King
I don't think this is one of King's best books, but it is one of his very, very good books. Billy Summers is a one last job story and a hitman with a heart of gold story, but primarily it's a story about the power of stories and storytelling, the goodness of ordinary people, and the intensely loyal relationships that spring out of chance meetings and a powerful, unmet need for love and connection. So, very standard Stephen King (including some wonky stuff at the end--he tries to turn the book's central relationship romantic for, as far as I can tell, no good reason whatsoever), but it mostly works well, and I adored it.
The Beekeeper's Apprentice by Laurie R. King
Reread. A Sherlock Holmes continuation/retelling/
The Cass Neary series 1-3 by Elizabeth Hand
My current obsession. Most of the characters whom I tend to think of as antiheroes are actually just heroes with an iffy past or an attitude problem. At least compared to Cass Neary. Cass is a genuine antihero.
She's a photographer who published one book of photos, Dead Girls, in her early twenties before being raped and never really getting over that trauma; at the start of the series she hasn't shot a photo in years and is prone to terrible relationships and random acts of spite, like swiping a stranger's car keys (not because she needs a car--she just hides the keys in a dead, dried-out sea urchin). Cass get tangled up in murder mysteries because she's pathologically self-destructive and can't stay away from people who are damaged in the same ways that she is.
But she's also a sharp observer with an almost encyclopedic knowledge of photography and music and film, self-awareness, a sense of humor ("Looks like Sauron's fallen on hard times."), and a good eye. Cass is passionate about photography and photographers, about art and the people who create art. It's almost her only redeeming quality and definitely the one that keeps her head a bearable place to be in.
Of the first three books (Generation Loss, Available Dark, Hard Light), Available Dark might be my favorite; it's set in an especially dreary Iceland, features black metal and a couple of folk-horror-tinged ritual murders, and ends with another ritual that's both extremely disturbing and weirdly, transcendently beautiful. But the whole series is addictive. I'm a little more than halfway through the fourth and so far last, The Book of Lamps and Banners, and bracing for withdrawal.
(In my head, the True-Detective-style credits sequence for the prestige TV adaptation these books deserve is set to "White Foxes" by Susanne Sundfør.)
