So I’ve been rereading Murderbot because I’m still imploding over the election and the aftermath, but I did get one new hit of narrative, not a book, a movie I had heard a lot of great things about and was still dumbfounded by when I saw it: Spiderman: Into the Spider-Verse. Freaking amazing. I read some other things, but my brain is full of exploding dimensions and spider heroes, so really, if you haven’t, you should watch this.
The biggest working news for me is that my internet is working again. (It went out last night. Argh.)
What’s working at your house?
Edited to Add:
With any luck, Biden will get Nevada, Arizona, and Georgia which will put him over 300 votes for a solid Electoral College win, giving him both the popular vote by over four million and the EC. Thank god.
I read a set of three linked books and I’m still bemused by them. They were well-written books about complicated people, technically romances I think, but I realized when the male lead from the first book died at the end of the third book and I thought, “Yeah, we could spare him,” that I’d become annoyed with all of them. I think it might be because the writing was detached, almost cold, even though the characters were emoting all over the place. It might also be because I couldn’t get a grip on the romance contract; there were triangles in two of the books and I didn’t care.
Then as an antidote I read a very, warm, sweet romance where the contract was clear with a good quirky cast of supporting players, but since everything was lovely all the time, at the end the author had to pile Big Misunderstanding on top of Big Misunderstanding and that was just annoying: if you people don’t trust each other any more than this, if you can’t TALK to each other to find out the truth, then I don’t care if you’re pregnant at the end and beaming at each other. Not to mention all the protagonist’s problems fell away at the end because all the other characters made such great decisions that accomodated her . . .
All of which is to say, I was difficult to please this week, although thanks to somebody on here, I read A Deadly Education, which had a protagonist I loved, and I’m reading the new Bloom County collection and laughing like a loon, so there is hope.
But the best thing I read this week was the NYT’s essay on Durer and the self-portrait by Jason Farago.. And I’m thinking maybe it’s time to try another self-portrait. Or maybe Anna will.
What did you read this week?
I’m making fettuccine (shallots and rosemary and mushrooms and tarragon and tomatoes and basil and garlic and lemon and baby peppers and possibly some steak but not much) and throwing things out (why did I think there was going to be a shortage of cardboard boxes?). Also working on Anna, which I shut down on when reality became a real bastard and refused to leave my brain. I’m thinking it’s time to bake something; there’s work and then there’s work where you get to eat something chocolate warm from the oven when you’re done.
What did you work on this week? Brag here.
It’s 1:37AM on Tuesday, and I was sitting here working on finances and trying to figure out how to keep a stray cat in my house and keep out the fatass raccoon who keeps coming in to steal her food, and neither of these things is especially stressful–although that raccoon and I are going to have a come-to-Jesus shortly–and I realized I was tense, tense enough that I wasn’t breathing. Took a couple of lungfuls of breath and felt better. Remembered the fate of my country gets decided today. Took several more deep breaths. Returned to plotting against the raccoon.
I’d address this just to the American Argh People, but I’m fairly sure most of the rest of the world is watching in horror, too. Deep breaths. Extinction burst. Nothing but good times ahead.
Jokes, cheery news, comfort reads, and anything else you can think of to get us through this day, in the comments below, please. Argh.
Welcome to November, the penultimate month in the Year of the Rat Bastard. As I pulled my garbage can to the curb at 6AM, I saw my neighbor Allan doing the same thing. I said, “We have to stop meeting like this.” He said, “I heard they’re cancelling daylight savings time this year.” I said, “Really??? Why?” He said, “Nobody wants an extra hour of 2020.”
2021 is going to be better and it’s only eight weeks away. Plus there are gift-giving and getting holidays in there, and I might even finish writing a book or at least get closer to the end of one. And maybe Emily the stray cat will stop looking at me like I’m a limb of Satan and come into the warm. Once I get the heat fixed. Nothing but good times ahead.
PLEASE let there be good times ahead.
What made you happy this week?