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Showing posts with label Stephen King. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Stephen King. Show all posts

Tuesday, May 05, 2026

Sherrie v Scary v SCarrie


 The other day I came up with an idea for a novel: What if another young woman developed telekinetic powers like Carrie White, but instead of being raised by an insane mother, like Carrie, she was raised by a doting, responsible father? I'd call the novel Sherrie, of course. But a second title, Scary, came to mind, too. Then I realized I should really change the spelling for the pun potential. But SCarrie would be a sequel, not a parallel story. 

Stephen King doesn't write sequels terribly often, but if he did, why not go back to the (almost) very beginning? 

Thursday, April 02, 2026

Salem's Lot Boo Boo

Today a lovely special edition of Tobe Hooper's adaptation of Stephen King's Salem's Lot appeared on my doorstep. It comes with a two-sided poster, a "Welcome to Salem's Lot" sticker, and a handsome perfect-bound booklet that collects essays about the miniseries. 

Alas, sometime during the editing process, someone--more likely, multiple people--missed adding the name of Bonnie Bedelia's character to the cast list. For the record, Bedelia played the ill-fated Susan Norton. 

Thursday, January 01, 2026

Back in Theatres: Movies I watched in 2025

 

I needed escape in 2025, and the movies delivered. The vast majority of the films I watched in 2025 were shorts, so don't be alarmed by that huge number on the left; only 538 of the 3,363 were feature-length films (one hour or longer). 

Here are some of my favourite feature-length films of the year. 

For the first time since December 2019, I went back to theatres this year. I chose times designed to reduce exposure to COVID-19, and I'm happy to say the strategy worked; neither Sylvia nor I fell ill. 

Anyone who knows me can't be surprised that James Gunn's Superman was the film that brought me back to the theatre experience. I simply couldn't miss seeing the latest iteration of my favourite fictional character on the big screen. Sylvia, sport that she is, came along with me, and while I'm sure she didn't enjoy it as much as I did, she did like the film, which I think of as a return to form after Zack Snyder's bleak, colourless, cynical interpretation in Man of Steel and its follow-up films. 

The Fantastic Four are my favourite Marvel characters (alongside Spider-Man), so nor could I resist seeing their first official MCU film, Fantastic Four: First Steps. I thought it was a lovely throwback to the spirit of the original comics from the 1960s, with rich characterization for all four leads, amazing production design, and a self-contained, thrilling adventure harkening back to some of the best of the Lee/Kirby comic run. Sylvia skipped this one, and I don't blame her; I don't think she would have gotten much out of it. 

Finally, I won tickets from Letterboxd to see The Long Walk, which adapts one of Stephen King's earliest and most chilling novels. Sylvia came along with me, and we were both impressed by the film's stark production, creating a dystopian near-future (or perhaps recent alternate past) of a fallen United States and the fascist measures it takes to entertain and distract its citizens. Mark Hamill is incredible in this as the tyrant who organizes the titular long walk, but it's the young men competing in the event who really steal the show. The film is raw, disconcerting, unforgiving, and doesn't leave the audience with any means of escaping its bleak, hopeless message. 

My favourite film of the year, though, has to be Yorgos Lanthimos' latest surreal masterpiece, Bugonia. Jesse Plemons and Emma Stone are utterly captivating in this tale of desperate paranoia, and that's all I'll say for fear of spoiling the film's tremendous impact. It really is worth seeing. 

With that, here are some screenshots from my year in film as compiled by Letterboxd: 





At this rate, it's going to take me a long time to finish my watchlist...








See you at the movies! 

Wednesday, December 31, 2025

Quality over Quantity in a Time of Troubles: Books I Read in 2025


At last, 2025 is over. I'd hoped to surpass 100 books this year, but other things became more important. 

In 2025, I read

  • 67 works of fiction and 17 works of non-fiction
  • 39 science fiction novels, 17 mainstream novels, six Star Trek media tie-ins, and five fantasy novels
  • 26 books by women and 58 books by men
  • 42 books from the 2020s, 17 from the 2010s, nine from the 2000s, five from the 1990s, four from the 1980s, two from the 1970s, four from the 1960s, and one from the 1950s
COMMENTARY AND ANALYSIS

For the first time in a long time, only a couple of books this year were re-reads for me. This wasn't an intentional choice, but in retrospect it seems to have left me open to some wonderful discoveries. Here are my favourite reads of the year, plus a disappointment or two: 

I Who Have Never Known Men, by Jacqueline Harpman. 39 women and a girl are locked in an underground cage for years, then suddenly released to emerge to an emptied world, barren and inhospitable. Whatever calamity befell the world is left a mystery. A compelling rumination on the struggles of womanhood in hostile spaces, and a bleak commentary on human empathy--or the lack of it. 

Titan, by Stephen Baxter. I've never been Baxter's biggest fan, but 2025 was the right year for me to finally finish his so-called "NASA trilogy." The book's political climate eerily mirrors the troubles we're facing today, and as the world turns inward, NASA has one more shot to perform some pioneering science and exploration--a do or die, one-way trip to Saturn's largest moon, Titan. The technical details of the mission are fascinating, especially set against the frightening backdrop of an American government sliding into theocratic fascism. No parallels to 2025 in this book from 1997! Even more compelling are the battle for survival on Titan itself and the speculative leaps made by novel's end. 

A Short Stay in Hell, by Steven L. Peck. So it turns out that when we die, unless we follow Zoroastrianism (the one true faith; who knew?) we go to hell. Hell is a library that contains every book that fits onto 410 pages, and if you find the one book that tells your life story--without any spelling errors, typos, or grammatical errors--you're free to leave. Unfortunately, every letter, number, and punctuation mark is randomly generated, which means that the vast, vast majority of the trillions and trillions and trillions of books in Hell is garbage. Your book exists, but the time required to find it would take longer than the age of our universe. Much longer. There's no torture in hell, and its residents are supplied with good food and comfortable quarters. But there's no entertainment other than chatting or having sex, and no one gets sick. Of course, people can hurt and even kill each other, but you always wake up fully healed. Practically speaking, you're trapped in an eternity of boredom. This book terrified me. 

James, by Percival Everett. A retelling of Adventures of Huckleberry Finn from the perspective of Jim, the escaped slave befriended by Huck in Mark Twain's novel. Offers excellent perspective on the Black experience in white spaces--this is a rich novel, an angry novel, uncompromising in its critique of the world we've built. 

Julia, by Sandra Newman. George Orwell's 1984 seen through the eyes of Julia, Winston Smith's lover. It's just as bleak and nauseating as Orwell's original story, given more dimension thanks to its new perspective. We even get to see the fall of Oceania, an event foreshadowed by 1984's afterword. Spoiler: the new regime may or may not be an improvement on the old regime. 

Exordia, by Seth Dickinson. The first couple of chapters led me to believe this novel was going to be comic. I was wildly wrong. Dickinson's story of alien invasion is one of the scariest, most visceral, and most exciting examples of the trope in years. A wonderful cast of characters, human and alien, take us on a thrilling rollercoaster ride. It's smart, fun, terrifying, and satisfying. 

The Bridges of Madison County, by Robert James Waller. This is one of several books I read from Mom's collection after her passing. I wasn't expecting to enjoy this novel as much as I did, but I admit to tearing up by the end. A beautiful love story that captures the feeling of those special moments in time we know must be brief, but stay with us forever. 

The Compound, by Aisling Rawle. 20 (quickly 19) young men and women play out a dystopian version of Big Brother against the backdrop of the world we might live in in just a few years--a catastrophically warming world with constant wildfires and resource shortages, civilization finally beginning to play the price of our greed and ignorance. The Compound is a thoughtful critique of consumerism, the male gaze, and violence--but it offers a thread of hope in its tale of resilience and reconciliation. Or, if not hope--then at least some grace. 

The Rose Field, by Philip Pullman. I was enjoying the last of Pullman's Lyra Silvertongue novels until about three-quarters of the way through, when Pullman seems to lose focus and direction. The big action setpiece feels like it's been inspired by a video game or a poorly-run Dungeons & Dragons campaign, and the ending, well...I think the only word is anticlimactic. Although maybe ironic also fits, since a search to recapture Lyra's imagination seems to end in a rote critique of runaway progress--a topic handled with far more dexterity by The Compound, above. 

Prelude to Space, by Arthur C. Clarke. Clarke chose the perfect title for this one; it really is a prelude to the big space adventures we never get to see. Instead, Clarke covers the technical and bureaucratic challenges of getting men (of course men) into orbit. I found it interesting, but most readers will consider this very, very dry. Which it is. 

I'm Thinking of Ending Things, Foe, and We Spread, by Iain Reid. Nothing is what it seems in Reid's work, and I love that. All three novels are creepy, atmospheric, heartbreaking, mysterious, and best left unspoiled. I ached deeply for all his poor doomed protagonists, trapped in worlds they never made. 

Weird Medieval Guys, by Olivia Swarthout. Gorgeously designed, brilliantly illustrated, and hilarious, a balm for my battered nerves this year, a great gift from Leslie. 

The Gone World and Tomorrow and Tomorrow by Tom Sweterlitsch. I wish this guy would write more novels! Sweterlitsch combines deeply sympathetic characters with high-concept speculative fiction settings and challenges in a way that's unlike any other writer. 

And finally, this year I read the seven existing novels in Matt Dinniman's
Dungeon Crawler Carl series. Not only are they great fun, especially for anyone who's ever played a tabletop role playing game, the bad puns, crass humour, bloodthirsty violence, and existential dread are tempered by a truly empathetic and humanistic outlook; Carl, our protagonist, never gives in to despair or hate despite the cruelty of the alien invaders who have turned Earth into the latest of their sadistic interstellar reality show playgrounds, wiping out almost all life on the planet. 


MONTH-BY-MONTH

January: 11
The Dead Fathers Club (Matt Haig, 2006)
The Possession of Mr Cave (Matt Haig, 2008)
Notes on a Nervous Planet (Matt Haig, 2018)
Julia (Sandra Newman, 2023) 
How to be Perfect (Michael Schur, 2022) 
Tower of Glass (Robert Silverberg, 1970) 
Light Raid (Connie Willis and Cynthia Felice, 1989) 
Take a Look at the Five and Ten (Connie Willis, 2020) 
Seasons of Light and Darkness (Michael A. Martin, 2014) 
Golden State (Ben H. Winters, 2019) 
Terra Incognita (Connie Willis, 2018) 

February: 10
Some Desperate Glory (Emily Tesh, 2023) 
The Art of Mike Grell Volume 1 (Mike Grell, Tom Monarch, and Jeff Messer, 2025) 
Water Witch (Connie Willis and Cynthia Felice, 1982) 
The Fall Risk (Abby Jiminez, 2025) 
Promised Land (Connie Willis and Cynthia Felice, 1996) 
The Armageddon Engine (James Swallow, 2024) 
The You You Are: A Spiritual Biography of You (Ricken Lazlo Hale, 2022) 
Vulcan’s Soul Book I: Exodus (Josepha Sherman and Susan Shwartz, 2004) 
I Who Have Never Known Men (Jacqueline Harpman, 1995) 
Shadow Play (James Swallow, 2024)

March
The Whole Man (John Brunner, 1967) 
Titan (Stephen Baxter, 1997) 
The Godwhale (T.J. Bass, 1974) 
Star Trek: Lost to Eternity (Greg Cox, 2024)

April
American Housewife (Anita Abriel, 2025) 
Exordia (Seth Dickinson, 2023) 
Dungeon Crawler Carl (Matt Dinniman, 2020) 
Carl’s Doomsday Scenario (Matt Dinniman, 2021) 
The Dungeon Anarchist’s Cookbook (Matt Dinniman, 2021) 
The Gate of the Feral Gods (Matt Dinniman, 2021) 

May
The Butcher’s Masquerade (Matt Dinniman, 2022)  
Thirteen Days: A Memoir of the Cuban Missile Crisis (Robert F. Kennedy, 1969) 

June
The Eye of the Bedlam Bride (Matt Dinniman, 2023)
George Perez: Storyteller (Christopher Lawrence, 2006)
This Inevitable Ruin (Matt Dinniman, 2024) 

July
Never Flinch (Stephen King, 2025) 
James (Percival Everett, 2024) 
The Enemy Within (Kristine Kathryn Rusch, 2014) 
Rapport: Friendship, Solidarity, Communion, Empathy (Martha Wells, 2025)
White Eagle Speaks: Reflections of Lives and Passing Thoughts (Leonard Carriere, 2000) 
Prairie Light (Courtney Milne, 1985) 
Keith Langergraber: Theatre of the Exploding Sun (Liz Wylie, 2013) 
Shadow of the Machine (Scott Harrison, 2015) 
The More Things Change (Scott Pearson, 2014) 
Christmas with Norman Rockwell (John Kirk, 1990) 
The Professionals (Keith Langergraber, 2016) 
The Adventure of the Demonic Ox (Lois McMaster Bujold, 2025) 

August
Vulcan’s Soul Book II: Exiles (Josepha Sherman and Susan Shwartz, 2006) 
The Making of The African Queen, or How I Went to Africa with Bogart, Bacall, and Huston and Almost Lost My Mind (Katherine Hepburn, 1987) 
The Bridges of Madison County (Robert James Waller, 1992) 
The End of the World as We Know It (Christopher Golden, 2025) 
A Short Stay in Hell (Steven L. Peck, 2012) 
When the Moon Hits Your Eye (John Scalzi, 2025) 

September
I Hope This Finds You Well (Natalie Sue, 2024) 
The Gone World (Tom Sweterlitsch, 2018) 
Tomorrow and Tomorrow (Tom Sweterlitsch, 2014) 
Dominion (C.J. Sansom, 2012) 
Not Quite by the Book (Julie Hatcher, 2025) 
The Shattered Peace (John Scalzi, 2025) 
The Art of Fantastic Four (John Lind, 2025)
A New History of the Future in 100 Objects: A Fiction (Adrian Hon, 2020) 

October
3 Days, 9 Months, 27 Years (John Scalzi, 2025) 
The Intergalactic Interloper (Delas Heras, 2020) 
Best of All Worlds (Kenneth Oppel, 2025) 
Back to the Future: A Visual History (Michael Klastorin, Randal Atamaniuk, 2015) 
Weird Medieval Guys (Olivia Swarthout, 2023) 
Final Orbit (Chris Hadfield, 2025) 
Silver Screen Fiend (Patton Oswalt, 2015) 
I’m Thinking of Ending Things (Iain Reid, 2016) 
Foe (Iain Reid, 2018) 
We Spread (Iain Reid, 2022) 

November
Prelude to Space (Arthur C. Clarke, 1951) 
Assassins from Tomorrow (Peter Heath, 1967) 
The Productions of Time (John Brunner, 1967) 
The Collected Essex County (Jeff Lemire, 2009) 
The Rose Field (Philip Pullman, 2025) 

December
Testimony of Mute Things (Lois McMaster Bujold, 2025) 
The Compound (Aisling Rawle, 2025) 
Ten Thousand Light Years from Okay (Tracy Dobmeier and Wendy Katzman, 2025) 
The Witch Doesn’t Burn in This One (Amanda Lovelace, 2018)
The Mermaid’s Voice Returns in This One (Amanda Lovelace, 2019) 
Machines Like Me (Ian McEwan, 2025) 
Gold Dust (Catherine Asaro, 2025) 

And so ends 2025. Check out Bruce's list, and now you can see what Leslie was reading, listening to, and experiencing in 2025. 


Thursday, January 16, 2025

In Dreams, He Walks: David Lynch, 1946-2025


When you exclude family and friends from the equation, my approach to life is upheld by three great pillars: Superman's altruism, Star Trek's optimism, and David Lynch's surrealism. And as much as I adore Superman and Star Trek, it is the works of David Lynch that bring me closest to understanding--or at least appreciating--the great mysteries of existence. 

My first exposure to Lynch was The Elephant Man, followed a few years later by Blue Velvet--both incredible films that pitted cruelty against compassion, a common theme in Lynch's work. 

But it was Twin Peaks that captured me, heart and soul, way back in 1990. I saw in Dale Cooper, Deputy Andy, Deputy Hawk, and Sheriff Truman the kind of men I aspired to be. I saw in Bob my terrible weaknesses and darkest thoughts. And in the world Lynch built, one of awe and mystery, compelling and unknowable, wondrous and terrifying, I saw the landscapes of my dreams. 

Much of Lynch's work is rife with violence and misery of the harshest kind in settings that seem rational on the surface, but hide corruption and malignancy. Thankfully, the evil in his worlds is matched by figures of great kindness, integrity, and valour, and forces of light that help in the limited ways they can.  

Lynch's heroes often fail, Dale Cooper chief among them; as revealed in The Return, his saviour complex ultimately dooms him, along with poor Laura Palmer, "saving" her from her true salvation to the forces of light in Twin Peaks: Fire Walk with Me. 

Or that's one interpretation. Lynch's work is full of delicious ambiguity; it demands our full attention and cries out to be re-watched for new meaning. Despite that ambiguity, though, I believe a couple of themes shine through his body of work. 

First, David Lynch loved people and felt deeply about the cost of human suffering. Second, David found amazing beauty in the universe, even if that beauty was contrasted with terror; perhaps he felt one was necessary for the other. And third, to paraphrase Stephen King, I think David Lynch suspected there are other worlds than these. I hope he's exploring them now and creating new art. 

For these reasons and so many others, I felt a deep connection with David Lynch--though I'd never met him, and never will, except in dreams. 

Thank you, David, for the gift of your art, in all its baffling and wondrous forms. Rest in mystery. 

Tuesday, December 31, 2024

There Will Be Time (to Read): Books I Read in 2024

Two years running! 

For the second year in a row, I've read 100 books in 12 months. That number used to be what I considered a minimum annual number for me, but as chronicled here at The Earliad, my speed and focus have diminished somewhat with the growing responsibilities and waning capabilities of middle age. Maybe I'm rebuilding to what used to be my old normal? 

OVERVIEW

In 2024, I read

  • 83 works of fiction and 17 works of non-fiction
  • 52 science fiction novels, 15 Star Trek media tie-ins, 11 mainstream, three horror, and two fantasy
  • 33 books by women and 67 books by men
  • 28 books from the 2020s, 18 from the 2010s, 18 from the 2000s, 13 from the 1990s, six from the 1980s, eight from the 1970s, 4 from the 1960s, 3 from the 1950s, and one each from the 1940s and 1890s. 
  • Eight books by Hugh Howey, six by Catherine Asaro, four by Stephen Baxter, and three each from Robert Silverberg, Jo Walton, and Connie Willis
   COMMENTARY AND ANALYSIS

Of the books I read this year, 30 were re-reads from authors including Jo Walton, Connie Willis, Stephen King, Robert Heinlein, Patricia Highsmith, Stephen Baxter, Les Daniels, Isaac Asimov, and others. 

I also revisited several works by Catherine Asaro while at the same time reading her newest novels for the first time. Prior to this year I hadn't read her first novel, Primary Inversion, since it was released as a mass market paperback in 1995. I was still in my 20s! The horror. I found myself surprised by how much plot is crammed into Primary Inversion; I could have sworn at least a couple of its major events occurred in later books of the Skolian Empire series. 

Speaking of the 1990s, I picked up B.F. Skinner's Walden Two at the Wee Book Inn sometime during that decade. It sat on a shelf until Skinner's name came up in the infamous orientation film featured in the season two premiere of Lost. Having read only the back cover to that point, I figured I'd read the book to see if there were any clues to what might be going on in the world of the show. Unfortunately, Skinner's prose is incredibly dry, so I put the book aside until, well, this year. Walden Two is really more manifesto than novel, and reads like a professor's self-assured polemic against the status quo as it was back in the 1940s. His solution, which in hindsight absolutely informed the Dharma Initiative backstory for Lost, was utopian social engineering, a method for creating self-sufficient communes free of want and violence. 

Walden Two was something of a curiosity for me this year, so I'll turn to the books that really impressed me (for good or ill) in 2024: 

  • The Ministry for the Future, Kim Stanley Robinson, 2020. This near-future SF novel begins with a catastrophic heat wave in India that kills millions and triggers, at last, serious global action on climate change. It's a harrowing read, because Robinson describes an all-too-plausible future of diminishing resources and increasing violence. The titular Ministry is tasked with overseeing a kind of holding action against the collapse of civilization, and he goes into some fascinating detail about the societal changes required to achieve a best-case scenario that, from our perspective today, remains terrifying to contemplate. 
  • System Collapse, Martha Wells, 2023. Another Murderbot tale, yay! 
  • Demon Daughter and Penric and the Bandit, Lois McMaster Bujold, 2023 and 2024. More Penric and Desdemona adventures, yay! 
  • The Road to Roswell, Connie Willis, 2023. A lovely comedic tale of love, aliens, and UFO enthusiasts pratfalling around the deserts of the US southwest. Seems timely in the wake of all the UAP buzz in the news this year. 
  • Shift and Dust by Hugh Howley, 2013. I read Wool, the first of Howley's Silo books, way back in the teens, but only finished the series this year. I really enjoyed Shift, which explains the origins of the mysterious silos, and Dust was a satisfying conclusion, though the series epilogue in the Silo collection left something of a bittersweet taste in my mouth. 
  • Shadrach in the Furnace, Robert Silverberg, 1976. I've been working my way through the Hugo and Nebula nominations for years now, and Robert Silverberg has his share of those nominations, of which I read three in 2024. Shadrach in the Furnace was my favourite, a psychedelic fever dream of body horror, totalitarian dystopia, and state surveillance. 
  • Never Let Me Go, Kzuo Ishiguro, 2005. In science fiction there are several examples of a peculiar trope involving societies that grow clones strictly to harvest their organs to extend the lives of the rich and powerful. Ishiguro weaves a dreadful poignancy into the trope, gently bringing us into the world of several such clones who are conditioned from birth to accept and embrace their fate. It's heartbreaking, as any such inhuman system should be. Inhuman? No. All too depressingly human, and something that could plausibly happen someday...if it hasn't already in some dark corner of the world. 
  • Planet X, Michael Jan Friedman, 1998). Not all media tie-in novels are bad. Planet X is bad. Very bad. Imagine a world in which Marvel's X-Men meet up with Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the USS Enterprise to investigate the sudden appearance of new mutants springing up on a non-aligned world in the Star Trek universe. The original X-Men comics have been rightly identified as a solid vehicle for telling stories about prejudice and othering, and that's the theme Planet X tries to take. It's not an awful idea on its face, but the novel reads like a kid playing with random action figures, mashing them together with sound and fury. 

MONTH-BY-MONTH

January
The Taking of Pelham One Two Three (John Godey, 1973) 
Dawn of Rebellion: The Visual Guide (Pablo Hidalgo and Emily Shkoukani, 2023)
The Ministry for the Future (Kim Stanley Robinson, 2020)  
The Jigsaw Assassin (Catherine Asaro, 2022) 
Double or Nothing (Kim Sherwood, 2023) 
The Lost Worlds of 2001 (Arthur C. Clarke, 1972)
The Turning of the Screw (Henry James, 1898) 
Voyage (Stephen Baxter, 1996) 
System Collapse (Martha Wells, 2023) 
The Zombie Survival Guide (Max Brooks, 2003) 

February
World War Z: An Oral History of the Zombie War (Max Brooks, 2006)  
Demon Daughter (Lois McMaster Bujold, 2023)
There Will Be Time (Poul Anderson, 1972) 
Moonseed (Stephen Baxter, 1998) 
The Star Fox (Poul Anderson, 1965) 
The Spacetime Pool (Catherine Asaro, 2008) 
Life After God (Douglas Coupland, 1994) 
The Road to Roswell (Connie Willis, 2023) 
Superman: The Complete History (Les Daniels, 1998) 
Primary Inversion (Catherine Asaro, 1995) 

March
Turtles All the Way Down (John Green, 2017) 
The Last Hawk (Catherine Asaro, 1997) 
More Than the Sum of His Parts: Collected Stories (Joe Haldeman, 2020) 
Wool (Hugh Howley, 2012) 
Shift (Hugh Howley, 2013)
Dust (Hugh Howley, 2013) 
Silo (Hugh Howley, 2020) 
Girls, Interrupted: How Pop Culture Is Failing Women (Lisa Whittington-Hill, 2024) 
Space (James Michener, 1982) 
Just the Nicest Couple (Mary Kubica, 2023) 

April
Firestarter (Stephen King, 1980)
Walden Two (B.F. Skinner, 1948)
Homecoming (Christie Golden, 2003) 
The Giver (Lois Lowry, 1993)  
Batman: The Complete History (Les Daniels, 1999) 
Flood (Stephen Baxter, 2008) 
The End of the World Is Just the Beginning (Peter Zeihan, 2022) 
The Farther Shore (Christie Golden, 2003) 
The Bicentennial Man and Other Stories (Isaac Asimov, 1976)
Burn (Bill Ransom, 1995) 

May
A Choice of Catastrophes (Michael Schuster and Steve Mollmann, 2011) 
Crisis of Consciousness (Dave Galanter, 2015) 
Savage Trade (Tony Daniel, 2015)
Beacon 23 (Hugh Howley, 2015) 
With a Mind to Kill (Anthony Horowitz, 2022)  
Never Let Me Go (Kazuo Ishiguro, 2005) 
The Downloaded (Robert J. Sawyer, 2024) 
When the Sparrow Falls (Neil Sharpson, 2021) 
Shadrach in the Furnace (Robert Silverberg, 1976) 
The Stochastic Man (Robert Silverberg, 1975) 

June
Thorns (Robert Silverberg, 1967) 
You Like It Darker (Stephen King, 2024) 
Half Way Home (Hugh Howey, 2010) 
Wonder Woman: The Complete History (Les Daniels, 2000) 
Sand (Hugh Howey, 2014)
The Speed of Dark (Elizabeth Moon, 2002) 
Black Fire (Sonni Cooper, 1983) 
Finding Serenity (Jane Espenson, 2004) 

July
Across the Sand (Hugh Howey, 2022)
Foundation’s Triumph (David Brin, 1999) 
Ark (Stephen Baxter, 2009)
Planet X (Michael Jan Friedman, 1998)
Mr. Scott’s Guide to the Enterprise (Shane Johnson, 1987) 
The Three-Minute Universe (Barbara Paul, 1988) 
No Time Like the Past (Greg Cox, 2014) 

August
Penric and the Bandit (Lois McMaster Bujold, 2024) 
The Incident Report (Martha Baillie, 2009) 
Nuclear War: A Scenario (Annie Jacobson, 2024) 
Godzilla and Godzilla Raids Again (Shiguru Kayama, 1955) 
The Man Who Saw Seconds (Alexander Boldizar, 2024)
Serpents in the Garden (Jeff Mariotte, 2014)
The Ministry of Time (Kaliane Bradley, 2024) 
The Rings of Time (Greg Cox, 2012) 
The Last Day (Andrew Hunter Murray, 2020)  
S.H.A.D.O. Technical Operations Manual (Chris Thompson and Andrew Clements, 2022)

September
The Twin Paradox (Charles Wachter, 2020) 
The Down Deep (Catherine Asaro, 2024) 
Report from Planet Midnight (Nalo Hopkinson, 2012) 
The Talented Mr. Ripley (Patricia Highsmith, 1955) 

October
Humans: An A to Z (Matt Haig, 2014) 
Pawns and Symbols (Majliss Larson, 1985)
What Entropy Means to Me (George Alec Effinger, 1972) 
Cast No Shadow (James Swallow, 2011) 
Half Past Human (TJ Bass, 1971) 
Here (Richard McGuire, 2014) 

November
Tunnel in the Sky (Robert Heinlein, 1955) 
The Hollow Man (Dan Simmons, 1992) 
Farthing (Jo Walton, 2006) 
Ha’penny (Jo Walton, 2007) 
Jane: The Woman Who Loved Tarzan (Robin Maxwell, 2012) 
The Time Traveler’s Wife (Audrey Niffenegger, 2003) 
Half a Crown (Jo Walton, 2008) 

December
Miracle and Other Christmas Stories (Connie Willis, 1999)
The Art of the Amazing Spider-Man (John Romita and Stan Lee, 2024) 
Fantastic Four: Full Circle Expanded Edition (Alex Ross, 2024) 
Time Tunnel (Murray Leinster, 1964) 
DC Comics Style Guide (Paul Levitz, 2024) 
The Wailing Asteroid (Murray Leinster, 1960) 
The Dead Hand: The Untold Story of the Cold War Arms Race and Its Dangerous Legacy (David E. Hoffman, 2009) 
The Life Impossible (Matt Haig, 2024) 

And finally, here are Bruce and Leslie's stats for 2024! 

That's it for 2024. Happy New Year, all. Keep fighting the good fight. 



Sunday, December 31, 2023

Last But Not Least: Books I Read in 2023

 

Finally!

Here we are at what has become the traditional final post of the year here at The Earliad: the list of books I read over the course of the last 365 days. As seen in the Goodreads screencap at the top of this post, I have at last crawled my way back to my baseline minimum of 100 books a year, a goal I've failed to achieve for the last few years now thanks to COVID-19, stress, and depression. 

But hey! The world is okay now. COVID-19 is behind us, human rights and decency are ascendant, the wealth gap is steadily shrinking, and we've turned the tide in the fight against climate change. 
. . . 

All right, nothing in that last paragraph is true, but somehow I managed to read 100 books this year anyway.

Overview

In 2023, I read

  • 82 works of fiction and 18 works of non-fiction
  • 52 science fiction novels, 21 mainstream, five horror, and four fantasy
  • 40 books by women and 60 books by men
  • 32 books from the 2020s, 29 from the 2010s, seven from the 2000s, five from the 1990s, eight from the 1980s, 10 from the 1970s, three from the 1960s, one from the 1950s, three from the 1930s, one from the 1980s, and one from the 1810s
  • Seven books by Charles M. Schulz, five by Kate Beaton, five by Matt Haig, five by John Scalzi, four by Stephen King, four by Nancy Kress, three by Sandy Petersen, three by Katherine Anne Porter, two by David Brin, two by Mona Clee, two by Diane Duane, two by Steven Konkoly, two by Jack McDevitt, and one by each other author on this year's list

Commentary and Analysis

Repeating my experience in 2022, I reread a lot of old favourites in 2023, including novels by Ray Bradbury, Mona Clee, Suzy McKee Charnas, Diane Duane, Daniel Keyes, Stephen King, Nancy Kress, Kate Wilhelm, and Connie Willis. I have only one thing to say about these rereads: I wish Mona Clee had written more novels. The two she published--Branch Point and Overshoot--are wonderful soft-SF tales of human folly and our efforts to do better and be better.

As promised last year, I read Roderick Thorpe's first novel about detective Joe Leland, a character Hollywood adapted twice--once as a straightforward adaptation of this novel starring Frank Sinatra, the second an adaptation of the sequel, Nothing Lasts Forever, as the action hit Die Hard. The Detective is more meditative and slow-paced than its sequel, but still worthwhile, and gives the character's journey added depth. I wish I'd read the two books in order. 

Last year Leslie gave me a novel for my birthday and one for Christmas. I don't remember which book was meant for which occasion, but I read Matt Haig's The Comfort Book first, and it really gave me an emotional lift when I needed it. Haig's style is warm and welcoming, and so is his subject matter, whether he's writing non-fiction, as in this case, or fiction, as in the other Haig books I devoured this year in response to the good feelings granted by The Comfort Book. Those books were The Midnight Library, How to Stop Time, and The Humans, works of speculative fiction with a common theme: making connections and dealing with trauma through empathy and a conscious choice to pursue understanding. All four reads left me feeling better about the world, and they were light but thoughtful. I'll be following Haig's work. 

The other book Leslie gifted me was Gnomon, by Nick Harkaway, a dense science fiction detective story about artificial intelligence, simulated worlds, and history's throughlines. It's a fascinating, nested, interweaving narrative, one I'll revisit again in a few years. 

I've long been a fan of cartoonist Kate Beaton's website, so this year I purchased all of her available works. The most notable was Ducks: Two Years in the Oil Sands, an autobiography covering Kate's time in Fort McMurray, a place I'm familiar with through a couple of personal visits and my work in the public and private sectors. Knowing what I know about the working environment in Fort McMurray, I went into this book hoping that nothing bad would happen to Kate, but . . . well, one very bad thing does happen, and I wish I hadn't anticipated it. It made me wish that I could send Kate a message back through time telling her to pursue other opportunities. The book is very worthwhile and I'm glad I read it, but it's rough going in some places simply because Beaton doesn't shy away from the realities of her experience. 

In 2023 I read three books by fantasist Naomi Novik. The first, The Golden Enclaves, is the finale of a trilogy of works about a university of magic with campuses across the globe. I didn't find the conclusion of the series as satisfying as the first two books, but it was still engaging and enjoyable, and doesn't preclude further exploration of the world. I was more impressed by a pair of standalone novels by Novik: Uprooted and Spinning Silver. They explore the usual fantasy tropes, but Novik's command of characterization and structure make them both entertaining, breezy reads. 

Norman Spinrad's The Iron Dream is grotesquely violent, absurd, and troubling--as it should be, because Spinrad posits an alternate world where Adolf Hitler was a science fiction writer instead of the mad dictator of our reality. The book's most chilling section, though, is the framing material, which expounds upon the outsized influence of this alternate Hitler's novel on his world: he achieves a cult-like following which has, if you read between the lines, influenced his world in reactionary directions that might, in the long run, do more damage to humanity than our Hitler achieved in the real world. It's a scary book. 

I stumbled across a fun experiment in 2023--an opportunity to read Bram Stoker's Dracula across the course of the year via emails sent out on the date of the letters and journals that make up perhaps the world's most famous epistolary. (There are some editorial allowances made for the long out-of-sequence section describing what happens on the Demeter.) Reading the book this way really connected me to the characters; it was like I had to wait for the various letters and newspaper clippings just as they did. 

The Road is my first experience with the work of Cormac McCarthy, and he certainly lives up to his reputation. Dystopic, bleak, hopeless, and sparse, this is one of those works that really captures the mood of the 2020s, even though it was written in 2006. McCarthy builds a vivid world, though; even though his prose is sparing, his choices depict his chosen milieu with crystal clarity. 

I had the most fun this year, though, with Leslie Vermeer's Last But Not Least: A Guide to Proofreading Text. As with her earlier The Complete Canadian Book Editor, Last But Not Least is written with great authority--Leslie knows her subject matter backwards and forwards--but just as critical to the book's value is the way Leslie expresses that authority with empathy, kindness, and authenticity. She also peppers her texts with fun little in-jokes, this time with an emphasis on cultural touchpoints in Edmonton, British Columbia's lower mainland, and Vancouver Island. They're lovely touches that don't distract from the message, and fun Easter eggs for those who spot them. 

It must be said that I've known Leslie for years, so I'm predisposed to enjoying her work. Despite this, I'm confident in predicting that Last But Not Least will be incredibly useful to working communications professionals. Indeed, as one such professional, I've had to perform my share of proofreading jobs over the years; in fact, I have a very large proofreading task coming up in January. Leslie's book does an incredible job of clearly and carefully defining the role of the proofreader, its importance to publishing credible text, and how proofreaders can succeed at the task. Last But Not Least will be by my side for my January task and others to come. 

(I did not proofread this post, by the way; had I followed Leslie's excellent guidance, this blog would be error-free, or nearly so. Blame the student, not the teacher.) 

Plus, Leslie was kind enough to include me in the acknowledgements for my teeny-weeny contribution to the book. How cool is that? I'm genuinely thrilled. What a lovely way to end the year! 

Month-by-Month

January: 11
The Detective (Roderick Thorp, 1966)
The Comfort Book (Matt Haig, 2021) 
High School Journalist, Promoter, Jester - Kurt Vonnegut in the Shortridge Daily Echo, 1937-1940 (Kurt Vonnegut Jr., 2023) 
The Effort (Claire Holroyde, 2021) 
Hark! A Vagrant (Kate Beaton, 2015) 
Step Aside, Pops (Kate Beaton, 2015) 
Ducks: Two Years in the Oil Sands (Kate Beaton, 2022) 
The Princess and the Pony (Kate Beaton, 2015) 
The Midnight Library (Matt Haig, 2020) 
Fractured State (Steven Konkoly, 2016) 
The World of Star Trek, second edition (David Gerrold, 1984) 

February: 10
Rogue State (Steven Konkoly, 2017) 
They’d Rather Be Right (Mark Clifton and Frank Riley, 1954) 
Village in the Sky (Jack McDevitt, 2023) 
The Golden Enclaves (Naomi Novik, 2022) 
Uprooted (Naomi Novik, 2015) 
Spinning Silver (Naomi Novik, 2018) 
The Official Art of Big Trouble in Little China (Tara Bennett, 2017) 
The Art of Tron: Legacy (Justin Springer, 2010)
Robotic Existentialism: The Art of Eric Joyner (Eric Joyner, 2018) 
Tomb of Annihilation (Christopher Perkins, 2017) 

March: 10
How to Stop Time (Matt Haig, 2017) 
Old Venus (George R.R. Martin and Gardner Dozois, 2015) 
The Dead Zone (Stephen King, 1979)
The Toynbee Convector (Ray Bradbury, 1988)  
Branch Point (Mona Clee, 1996)
Overshoot (Mona Clee, 1998)
Music of the Spheres (Margaret Wander Bonanno, 1990) 
Probability Moon (Nancy Kress, 2000) 
Probability Sun (Nancy Kress, 2001) 
Probability Space (Nancy Kress, 2002) 

April: 8
The Iron Dream (Norman Spinrad, 1972) 
We Think, Therefore We Are (Peter Crowther, 2008) 
Where Late the Sweet Birds Sang (Kate Wilhelm, 1976) 
Gnomon (Nick Harkaway, 2017) 
Fallout 4 Vault Dweller’s Survival Guide (David S.J. Hodgson, 2015) 
Dark Mirror (Diane Duane, 1994) 
Intellivore (Diane Duane, 1997) 
The Postman (David Brin, 1985) 

May: 10
The Art of H.P. Lovecraft’s Cthulhu Mythos (Pat Harrigan, 2006) 
S. Petersen’s Field Guide to Cthulhu Monsters: A Field Observer’s Handbook of Preternatural Entities (Sandy Petersen, 1988)
S. Petersen's Field Guide to Creatures of the Dreamlands: An Album of Entities from the Land Beyond the Wall of Sleep (Sandy Petersen, 1989) 
S. Petersen's Field Guide to Lovecraftian Horrors: A Field Observer's Handbook of Preternatural Entities and Beings from Beyond the Wall of Sleep (Sandy Petersen, 2015) 
The Actual Star (Monica Byrne, 2021) 
Murder by Other Means (John Scalzi, 2020) 
Travel by Bullet (John Scalzi, 2022) 
Wondrous Beginnings (Steven H. Silver and Martin H. Greenberg, 2003)
The Simultaneous Man (Ralph Blum, 1971)
A Deadly Affair (Agatha Christie, 2022) 

June: 12
Alien3 (Pat Cadigan, 2021) 
Old Mortality (Katherine Anne Porter, 1937)
Noon Wine (Katherine Anne Porter, 1938) 
Pale Horse, Pale Rider (Katherine Anne Porter, 1939) 
Observer (Nancy Kress and Robert Lanza, 2023) 
Peanuts Every Sunday: 1952-1955 (Charles M. Schulz, 2013) 
Peanuts Every Sunday: 1956-1960 (Charles M. Schulz, 2014) 
Peanuts Every Sunday: 1961-1965 (Charles M. Schulz, 2015) 
Peanuts Every Sunday: 1966-1970 (Charles M. Schulz, 2016) 
Peanuts Every Sunday: 1971-1975 (Charles M. Schulz, 2017) 
Peanuts Every Sunday: 1976-1980 (Charles M. Schulz, 2018) 
Peanuts Every Sunday: 1981-1985 (Charles M. Schulz, 2019) 

July: 6
The Shining (Stephen King, 1977) 
‘Salem’s Lot (Stephen King, 1975) 
Down to a Sunless Sea (David Graham, 1979) 
The Practice Effect (David Brin, 1984) 
Flowers for Algernon (Daniel Keyes, 1966) 
The Lathe of Heaven (Ursula K. LeGuin, 1971) 

August: 10
The Last President (John Barnes, 2012) 
Hope Rides Again (Andrew Shaffer, 2019) 
How It Unfolds (James S.A. Corey, 2023) 
Void (Veronica Roth, 2023) 
Falling Bodies (Rebecca Roanhorse, 2023) 
The Long Game (Ann Leckie, 2023)
Just Out of Jupiter’s Reach (Nnedi Okorafor, 2023) 
Slow Time between the Stars (John Scalzi, 2023) 
To Kill a Mockingbird (Harper Lee, 1960) 
Lincoln’s Dreams (Connie Willis, 1987) 

September: 4
Dr. No (Percival Everett, 2022) 
The Kaiju Preservation Society (John Scalzi, 2022) 
7TV Cinematic Skirmish Rules (Karl Pelleton, 2023) 
Frankenstein (Mary Shelley, 1818) 

October: 10
The Humans (Matt Haig, 2013) 
Artwork from Baldur’s Gate (Joachim Vleminckx, 2023) 
The Radleys (Matt Haig, 2010) 
Starter Villain (John Scalzi, 2023) 
King Baby (Kate Beaton, 2010) 
Holly (Stephen King, 2023) 
Return to Glory (Jack McDevitt, 2023) 
On His Majesty’s Secret Service (Charlie Higson, 2023) 
To Be Taught, If Fortunate (Becky Chambers, 2019) 
Walk to the End of the World (Suzy McKee Charnas, 1974) 

November: 2
Dracula (Bram Stoker, 1897) 
The Machine Never Blinks (Ivan Greenberg, 2020) 

December: 8
The Road (Cormac McCarthy, 2006) 
Touch Not the Cat (Mary Stewart, 1976) 
Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay (Various, 1986) 
Upright Women Wanted (Sarah Gailey, 2020) 
The Defector (Chris Hadfield, 2023) 
Maybe There—The Lost Stories from Space: 1999 (David Hirsch and Robert E. Wood, 2023) 
Last But Not Least: A Guide to Proofreading Text (Leslie Vermeer, 2023) 

Sunday, January 01, 2023

Nothing Lasts Forever: Books I Read in 2022

Note: Blogger glitched at the wrong moment and erased most of yesterday’s original post, so I’ve reconstructed it from what little remained plus whatever my frazzled brain can remember of what I wrote. Because this post was supposed to come out yesterday, there are a couple of temporal references that don’t make sense. 

In 2022 I read a paltry 61 books, a performance only slightly better than last year's all-time low. As with last year, the stresses contemplating existential threats to civilization hampered my ability to focus on reading and blunted my enjoyment of reading for pleasure's sake. I spent far too much time doomscrolling, which in all likelihood represented the majority of my reading this year. 

Overview

Fiction v. Non-Fiction

Fiction: 54
Nonfiction: 7

Genres

Fantasy: 7
Horror: 2
Mainstream: 5
Science Fiction: 25
Star Trek: 12

Books by Decade

1890s: 2
1950s: 1
1960s: 1
1970s: 2
1980s: 7
1990s: 5
2000s: 6
2010s: 16
2020s: 19

Gender Split

Books by Women: 14
Books by Men: 47

Commentary and Analysis

Parity between men and women authors slipped away from me this year, and once again I avoided much of the new and retreated into familiarity. About a third of the books I read this year--23 out of 61--were rereads, including most of Michael P. Kube McDowell's output, several favourites by Lois McMaster Bujold, a handful by Nancy Kress and H.G. Wells, and a few old (and new) novels by Stephen King. 

Science fiction dominated my reading as I sought escape from these times, defeating my ongoing efforts to read more mainstream and literary works. Once I had dreams of reading everything in the western canon; now, not so much. As I get older, I’m finding that, more and more, my reach exceeds my grasp. See? Hoary metaphors, the last resort of the lazy and uninspired. 

I didn’t read much nonfiction this year, aside from matters related to pop culture. I feel bad about that, because I used to read serious, long-format non-fiction as a matter of course, feeling it part of my duty as a citizen to be well-informed. For now, it’s too much for me. 

Enriching Reads

Roderick Thorp's 1979 detective thriller Nothing Lasts Forever was one of my favourite surprises of the year. Nothing Lasts Forever is most famous for serving as the story for the 1988 action film Die Hard, and while Die Hard is one of the best examples of the form, the original novel, in my view, has it beat. Nothing Lasts Forever has all the suspense and thrills of the movie, and if you've seen the movie you already know the plot (with a few key differences in character motivations, backgrounds, and relationships. But the novel's great strengths include considerable emotional heft and a poetic cynicism that actually hurts to read--in a good way. Joe Leland is an ex-fighter pilot and detective, and while he does battle with the terrorists that take over the Klaxon Oil building, we dive deep into Joe's current terror and rage and explore the personal traumas that brought him to this point. There's no “yippee-kai-yay” here, just a bruised, broken human being trying to salvage a little bit of happiness for what's left of his life. 

As an aside, I'm currently reading Roderick Thorp's first novel about Joe Leland, 1966's The Detective. I won't finish it before the clock strikes midnight, so it'll more than likely be the first book I complete in 2023. I'm about a quarter of the way through it, and I'm impressed, so far, by Thorp's handling of Leland's character arc; the younger version of Leland is still a bit cynical, but he's definitely more vital and less ravaged than the man we follow in Nothing Lasts Forever. The Detective, like its sequel, also has a film adaptation: Gordon Douglas' The Detective (1968), starring Frank Sinatra, which I screened earlier this year. Sinatra declined to appear in the film that became Die Hard; on such butterflies does the history of cinema change. 

84K, by Claire North, was the novel that depressed me most in 2022. It's a fine novel of a near-future dystopia and one man's effort to find some absolution in a horrible world he helped create, but the problem is North's supercapitalist nightmare is all too plausible; it's a society where corporations run everything and crimes are punished strictly by fines, effectively giving the rich freedom to do whatever they want to whoever they want and shackling everyone else. It took me forever to read this, because I had to keep putting it down in order to retain my mental health. 

On the other hand, I loved two recent novels by Naomi Novik: A Deadly Education and The Last Graduate. Both follow the adventures of a group of students working to graduate from a university that teaches magic, but I found Novik's prose, characterization, and worldbuilding considerably stronger than the most famous series based on this trope. (And I enjoyed the Harry Potter books!) Novik really makes you care about her characters, and the jeopardy they face is often horrifying. And yet, these are fun books. I groaned when I reached the cliffhanger ending of The Last Graduate to discover there was, at the time I read it, an as-yet-unpublished third book in the series. As I was writing that last sentence, I checked and I'm thrilled to say the third and final book, The Golden Enclaves, has come out and I just bought it. So that'll probably be the fourth book I read in 2023. (Numbers two and three will be a pair of books Leslie gave me back in August.) 

Return to Tomorrow: The Filming of Star Trek: The Motion Picture by Preston Neal Jones is one of the most interesting behind-the-scenes chronicles of the filmmaking process I've ever read. Though published in 2014, the personal anecdotes that make up the bulk of this huge tome were captured by the author way back in the late 1970s, during the film's famously tumultuous production.

I read another notable Star Trek-related work of non-fiction this year: 2021’s Star Trek: Designing the Final Frontier, by Dan Chavkin and Brian McGuire. Chavkin and McGuire cover the efforts of the propmasters, production designers, and other talented artists who sourced and modified the furniture, décor, and other set dressing during the filming of Star Trek back in the 1960s. The book is full of gorgeous behind-the-scenes colour photographs and episode stills, and you’ll even learn a little about design principles and history as you read. I never imagined I’d find this particular topic interesting, but the authors did a great job of explaining how mid-20th century design trends informed and shaped the look of Star Trek’s imaginary future. I’ll never look at the show the same way again. 

I took great pleasure in reading Chris Thompson’s Moonbase Alpha Technical Operations Manual, which cleverly serves as an in-universe prop that might have existed on Moonbase Alpha itself; it’s written as a guidebook for new inhabitants of the base, with new material covering the disaster that flung the Moon out of Earth’s orbit in the fall of 1999. The prose elements are crisp, detailed, and meticulously researched, while the graphic design and artwork are really stunning. It’s a gorgeous book, one of the few physical books I bought this year (Designing the Final Frontier being the other notable example). 

I loved this book so much that I pre-ordered the special edition of a follow-up work using the same in-universe conceit: the S.H.A.D.O. Technical Operations Manual, also by Thompson, which describes the technical workings of the fictional anti-alien defence organization featured on UFO, the spiritual prequel to Space: 1999. I haven’t read it yet, but you’ll doubtless see my reaction to it next December 31. 

And finally, in 2022 the two gentlemen who write pseudonymously as James S.A. Corey wrapped up their long-running SF series, The Expanse, with Leviathan Falls. This series pleasantly surprised me from book one, and this series finale is fitting, logical, and bittersweet—a great sendoff for a world and characters I’ve come to really enjoy. It was a series with grand SF ideas and, more importantly, flawed but authentic heroes who were trying to do the right thing in a universe filled with terrible choices. 

Disappointing Reads

Tie-in fiction is a crap shoot at the best of times, but Pocket Books’ recently wrapped up the long-running Star Trek “litverse” because new shows such as Picard and Discovery wrecked the continuity established by the last couple of decades of novels Trek novels. Pocket wrapped things up with a messy, violent not-very-Trek-like trilogy that saw the novelized versions of 90s-era Trek characters sacrifice themselves to prevent a temporal anomaly or some other such nonsense to prevent the destruction of the universe, resetting continuity to allow for more tie-in novels that can take advantage of the new shows. Nonsense, but not a great loss; out of hundreds of novels published, there are maybe two dozen of legitimate quality beyond breezy entertainment. 

Normally I enjoy Philip Pullman’s work, but I didn’t get much out of Serpentine (a His Dark Materials tie-in), The White Mercedes, or The Broken Bridge. None of these books were bad, but they just didn’t engage me as much as some of his other work. In this case, I suspect the problem is me, not Pullman. He’s a gifted guy. 

Because I’d read Nothing Lasts Forever, I figured I may as well read Walter Wager’s 58 Minutes, the inspiration for Die Hard 2. Surprise: 58 Minutes is a better book than Die Hard 2 is a movie, but the decline in quality from Thorp to Wager is pretty much parallel to the decline in quality from Die Hard to its first sequel. Not that Thorp and Wager have anything to do with each other; they just happen to each have written novels turned into movies from the same series. 58 Minutes is engaging for what it is—a high-stakes thriller—but it doesn’t have any of Thorp’s nuance or gift for in-depth character study. 

That’s it for my commentary—here’s what my year in reading looked like, in order of books completed. Scroll to the end for one final thought and a couple of links. 

Month-by-Month

January: 8
Beggars in Spain (Nancy Kress, 1993) 
Beggars and Choosers (Nancy Kress, 1994) 
The Time Machine (H.G. Wells, 1895) 
The Quiet Pools (Michael P. Kube-McDowell, 1991)
Leviathan Falls (James S.A. Corey, 2022) 
The Future of Another Timeline (Annalee Newitz, 2019) 
Dangerous Visions (Harlan Ellison, 1967) 
A Deadly Education (Naomi Novik, 2020) 

February: 9
The Last Graduate (Naomi Novik, 2021) 
The Galactic Whirlpool (David Gerrold, 1980) 
The Art of John Buscema (John Buscema, 1978) 
John Buscema: Michelangelo of Comics (Brian Peck, 2010) 
Star Trek Coda: Moments Asunder (Dayton Ward, 2021)
Star Trek Coda: The Ashes of Tomorrow (James Swallow, 2021) 
The War of the Worlds (H.G. Wells, 1897) 
Star Trek Coda: Oblivion’s Gate (David Mack, 2021) 
Star Trek Shipyards (Ben Robinson, 2018) 

March: 12
The 22 Murders of Madison May (Max Barry, 2021) 
Emprise (Michael P. Kube-McDowell, 1985)
Enigma (Michael P. Kube-McDowell, 1986) 
Empery (Michael P. Kube-McDowell, 1987) 
Exile (Michael P. Kube-McDowell, 1992) 
Alternities (Michael P. Kube-McDowell, 1988) 
Gwendy’s Final Task (Richard Chizmar and Stephen King, 2022) 
Beguilement (Lois McMaster Bujold, 2006)
Sky Captain and the Art of Tomorrow (Kevin Conran, 2021) 
Legacy (Lois McMaster Bujold, 2007)
Passage (Lois McMaster Bujold, 2008)
Horizon (Lois McMaster Bujold, 2009)

April: 2
The Martian Chronicles (Ray Bradbury, 1950) 
The White Mercedes (Philip Pullman, 2017) 

May: 4
The Tumor (John Grisham, 2016) 
Underground Airlines (Ben Winters, 2016) 
Space Station Down (Ben Bova and Doug Beason, 2020) 
The Art and Soul of Blade Runner 2049 (Tanya Lapointe, 2017) 

June: 1
A History of What Comes Next (Sylvain Neuvel, 2021) 

July: 2
84K (Claire North, 2018) 
Fitzpatrick’s War (Theodore Judson, 2004) 

August: 4
Return to Tomorrow: The Filming of Star Trek: The Motion Picture (Preston Neal Jones, 2014) 
Star Trek Department of Temporal Investigations: Shield of the Gods (Christopher L. Bennett, 2017) 
The Sins of Our Fathers (James S.A. Corey, 2022) 
Serpentine (Philip Pullman, 2020) 

September: 3
To Everything That Might Have Been: The Lost Universe of Space: 1999 (Robert E. Wood, David Hirsch, and Christopher Penfold, 2022) 
Fairy Tale (Stephen King, 2022) 
Star Trek: Designing the Final Frontier (Dan Chavkin and Brian McGuire, 2021) 

October: 3
Christine (Stephen King, 1983) 
Klingon Bird-of-Prey Haynes Manual (Ben Robinson, 2012) 
Moonbase Alpha Technical Operations Manual (Chris Thompson, 2021) 

November: 6
The Broken Bridge (Philip Pullman, 1990) 
Nothing Lasts Forever (Roderick Thorp, 1979) 
U.S.S. Enterprise Haynes Manual (Ben Robinson, 2010) 
Klingon Bird of Prey Haynes Manual (Ben Robinson, 2012) 
58 Minutes (Walter Wager, 1987) 
Vectors (Michael P. Kube-McDowell, 2002) 

December: 5
The Lexington Letter (Anonymous, 2022) 
Too Many Tribbles! (Frank Berrios, 2019) 
I Am Mr. Spock (Elizabeth Schaefer, 2019) 
I Am Captain Kirk (Frank Berrios, 2019) 
Marvel Universe Map by Map (James Hill, 2021) 

Conclusion

That is the year that was for Earl J. Woods and his shrinking library. Nothing lasts forever, truly. 

Head on over to see what Bruce and Leslie had to say about 2022. 

Saturday, December 31, 2022

Books I Read in 2022: The Fail Edition

 

Blogger wiped out about 80% of what had been a 2,000 word post right before I could save it. And no, I didn't write it in Word first, like an idiot. 

I was pretty happy with what I'd written, too, and flew into a fit of angry depression thereafter. Happy New Year to me. Bah. 

Hopefully I can muster up the desire to rewrite this post in a couple of days, based on what little was saved. Sigh. 



Friday, December 31, 2021

Books I Read in 2021


In 2021 I read 58 books, a personal all-time low. As you'll see from the list below, I didn't attempt to tackle anything particularly challenging. The stress of 21st-century existence leaves me with diminished capacity; escaping into film taxes me far less than slipping into a book these days, a truth that profoundly saddens me, but one I can no longer deny. Silver lining: for the first time, I read as many books by women as by men. 

In 2021 I sought out escapist fare, often re-reading old favourites that took me back to comfortable alternate realities and in some sense to a more vital past self. Somewhere between a quarter and a third of the books I read are non-fiction, mainly covering topics in popular culture. 

A couple of novels stand out. Severance, by Ling Ma, uncannily anticipates the COVID-19 catastrophe and, like the real disaster, reveals the silliness and futility of the ways we live and work in the modern world, how the systems we've built serve only a select few. Come Closer, by Sara Gran, is one of the scariest novels I've ever read, and one of the most heartbreaking. It's the internal monologue of a woman who is either going insane or is genuinely being slowly and methodically possessed by a demon, and Gran's touch is so deft and sure that the moments of terror come out of nowhere, seeming to slip between the sentences so that by the time you realize what's happening to you and the protagonist, it's too late to brace yourself for the abyss. 

Martha Wells continues to impress with her Murderbot diaries, and I'm still enjoying my journeys through the works of Jo Walton. I indulged in a couple of near-legendary works of dreadful fan fiction: Jim Theis' The Eye of Argon and Tara Gilesbie's My Immortal. Anyone who enjoys art gone wrong will love these. 

Thanks to Leslie, I learned that I'd fallen behind on Lois McMaster Bujold's Penric series. Catching up was like going on a short trip with an old friend, carefree and pleasant. Bujold remains a favourite, and I hope she keeps writing for a long time. 

Finally, I was delighted to discover that Ulrich Haarburste released his cycle of Roy Orbison in clingfilm stories, expanded to novel length. If you don't feel like buying the book, sample some of the stories. 

Here's the list of what I read this year: 

January: 10
Or What You Will
(Jo Walton, 2020) 
Star Trek Adventures Quickstart Guide (Modiphius, 2017) 
Axiom’s End (Lindsay Ellis, 2020) 
The Vanished Seas (Catherine Asaro, 2020)
Lightning Strike, Book One (Catherine Asaro, 2014) 
Lightning Strike, Book Two (Catherine Asaro, 2020) 
Carrie (Stephen King, 1974) 
Way Station (Clifford D. Simak, 1963) 
The Wounded Sky (Diane Duane, 1983) 
My Enemy, My Ally (Diane Duane, 1984) 

February: 7
The Lightest Object in the Universe
(Kimi Eisele, 2019) 
DC Comics Covers (Nick Jones, 2020) 
DC Comics Supervillains: The Complete Visual History (Daniel Wallace, 2014) 
Art of Star Wars: The Mandalorian (Phil Szostak, 2020) 
The Big Lie (Julie Mayhew, 2015) 
Passage (Connie Willis, 2001) 
The Romulan Way (Diane Duane and Peter Morwood, 1987) 

March: 6
The Eye of Argon
(Jim Theis, 1970) 
My Immortal (Tara Gilesbie, 2006) 
Later (Stephen King, 2021) 
Star Wars Complete Vehicles New Edition (Kerrie Dougherty, 2020) 
To Lose the Earth (Kristen Beyer, 2020) 
Severance (Ling Ma, 2018) 

April: 3
The World of Cyberpunk 2077 (Marcin Batylda, 2020) 
Classics Illustrated: A Cultural History, with Illustrations (William B. Jones Jr., 2001) 
Seduction of the Innocent: The Influence of Comic Books on Today’s Youth (Fredric Wertham, 1954)
 
May: 3
The Ten Thousand Doors of January (Alix E. Harrow, 2019)
Home: Habitat, Range, Niche, Territory (Martha Wells, 2020) 
Fugitive Telemetry (Martha Wells, 2021) 

June: 2
Ulrich Haarburste’s Novel of Roy Orbison in Clingfilm: Plus additional stories (Ulrich Haarburste, 2019) 
Forbidden Knowledge: 101 Things No One Should Know How to Do (Owen Brooks, 2019) 

July: 3
Critical Failures (Robert Bevan, 2012) 
Living Memory (Christopher L. Bennett, 2021) 
Come Closer (Sara Gran, 2003) 

August: 5
The Physicians of Vilnoc (Lois McMaster Bujold, 2020) 
Masquerade in Lodi (Lois McMaster Bujold, 2020)
The Assassins of Thasalon (Lois McMaster Bujold, 2021)
Billy Summers (Stephen King, 2021) 
The Princess Saves Herself in This One (Amanda Lovelace, 2016)

September: 2
Then Everything Changed (Jeff Greenfield, 2011) 
The Stand (Stephen King, 1980) 

October: 2
Available Light (Dayton Ward, 2019) 
Knot of Shadows (Lois McMaster Bujold, 2021) 

November: 7
The Apollo Murders (Chris Hadfield, 2021)
Visiting Friends: Or, What I Did on My Summer Vacation (Jo Walton, 2021) 
Project Hail Mary (Andy Weir, 2021)
2034 (Elliot Ackerman and Admiral James Stavridis, 2021) 
Untold Horror (Dave Alexander, 2021) 
The History of Science Fiction: A Graphic Novel Adventure (Xavier Dollo, 2021) 
Forever and a Day (Anthony Horowitz, 2018) 

December: 7
The Steranko History of Comics, Volume One (Jim Steranko, 1970) 
The Steranko History of Comics, Volume Two (Jim Steranko, 1972)
All in Color for a Dime (Richard A. Lupoff and Don Thompson, 1970) 
Comix: A History of Comic Books in America ( Les Daniels, 1971) 
The Psychology of Time Travel (Kate Mascarenhas, 2018) 
The Grownup (Gillian Flynn, 2014) 
Hench (Natalie Zina Walschots, 2020) 

Fiction: 42
Nonfiction: 15
Poetry: 1

Genre
Fantasy: 8
Horror: 3
Mainstream: 11
Science Fiction: 14
Star Trek: 6

Top Authors
Lois McMaster Bujold: 4
Stephen King: 4
Catherine Asaro: 3
Diane Duane: 3
Jim Steranko: 2
Jo Walton: 2
Martha Wells: 2


Books by Women: 29
Books by Men: 29

Books by Decade
1950s: 1
1960s: 1
1970s: 6
1980s: 4
2000s: 4
2010s: 16
2020s: 25