So this week I’m reading Anvil of Tears, by Erica Lindquist and Aron Christensen, in which the crew of a rustbucket spacecraft pick up a girl on the run from the Alliance and end up sheltering her and her brother from — oh wait, sorry, that’s “Firefly”. In Anvil of Tears, the girl is on the run from something called the Sisterhood, which is likely nefarious, though just how nefarious remains to be seen …
So far I would characterize this book as steampunk, but it’s steampunk that’s sort of been filtered through a Hayao Miyazaki “Kiki’s Delivery Service” meets “Howl’s Moving Castle” kind of sensibility. It’s cute, but don’t go in expecting something like The Difference Engine.
Lucretia was pulling some monster-like weeds that held a death grip on a pretty climbing rose when Mr. Trotters came belching and bellowing steam in her direction.
She sat back on her heels and regarded the steam-pig.
The steam-pig regarded her back.
“Lost your pipe again, Mr. Trotters?”
The steam-pig burped smoke and she sighed. “Come along then, we had better find it before you blow up.”
Mr. Trotters is, literally, a steam-powered mechanical pig. There’s also a miniature clockwork animal orchestra, a lemur (pictured on the cover), an owl (also pictured on the cover). It’s a veritable menagerie of natural and artificial creatures! And speaking of menageries, our old friend Bob seems to have encountered one, over in the world of Television Man …
Once Bob fired the shotgun, it was pretty much pandemonium. A half-dozen of the little monsters went down, but the rest of them rushed him in a mass. He blasted them again, sending black blood and umber fragments flying in every direction, but the next time he pulled the trigger it just clicked. Empty. He hadn’t even thought to look and see how many shells the gun could hold, let alone how many it contained.
So I of course have been watching “Fear the Walking Dead“, which in addition to being generally good advice is also the spinoff of/prequel to “The Walking Dead“.
Did I mention my Kobo says the original Dragonriders of Pern trilogy 1,200 pages long? That’s long. That’s very long. In fact, it’s so long, here are four sentences for your teaser this week instead of two. But two of the sentences are rather short.
So this week I’m (shocker!) still reading the 800-odd-page long Dragonriders of Pern trilogy — I think I’m somewhere near the beginning of the second book, which begins about seven years after the end of the first one. Thread is still falling, dragons are still (mostly) burning it, and somebody has nice hair.
So at the moment I’m reading (R)evolution by P.J. Manney, which is not to be confused with this:
(R)evolution is a techno-thriller involving nanotechnology and computer-upgraded brains and secret cabals, sort of Neal Stephenson meets William Gibson meets Dan Brown meets Oliver Sacks meets Daniel Suarez.
This is what happens when you fall asleep in the kudzu.