I’ve been plugging away, without much enthusiasm, at Bedlam’s Bard by Mercedes Lackey and Ellen Guan. While I enjoy the book’s notion of elves in L.A., the writing itself–and the characters–haven’t really taken off for me. There’s way, way, WAY too much direct quoting of characters’ thoughts, most of it unnecessary and, to me, at least, annoying. Especially when most of those thoughts are of the Oh, God, what’s happening to me…I can’t believe this…I must be going out of my mind…I don’t understand… variety.
I’ll finish it–I’m about halfway through now and interested enough in the plot, at least, to see how it all comes out–but the jury’s still out on whether or not I’ll read the other two books in the trilogy.
I’ve also been trying to wrap up the second-most-recent Asimov’s, because the new double-issue Asimov’s just arrive. That’ll be my next read, I think.
My wife and I still haven’t finished the His Dark Materials trilogy by Philip Pullman–not because we’re not interested, but because life has not cooperated. Soon, though. After that, we’re probably going to read Terry Pratchett’s The Wee Free Men. We try our best to keep up with Pratchett’s output, but it ain’t easy…
