What I’m Reading Now
Time’s Eye, Arthur C. Clarke and Stephen Baxter
The Raw Shark Texts, Steven Hall
The Black Dossier, Alan Moore
The phosphorescent blathering of Rob Davies, a left-handed fabulist
Time’s Eye, Arthur C. Clarke and Stephen Baxter
The Raw Shark Texts, Steven Hall
The Black Dossier, Alan Moore
There is a great little article about Weird Tales at SciFi Wire.
This is just the tippety-tip of the iceberg. Jeff VanderMeer has a post up about books, and what you do when you start to have too many books (if such a state of being exists). It is clear that there is a vast difference between bibliophiles and other people.
The hawks are coming. They are implacable. They are hungry.
Sara and I saw Gary Louris last night. It was a great show. He played a lot of songs from his new solo album, Vagabonds, plus a lot of Jayhawks hits. “Waiting for the Sun” from Hollywood Town Hall, “Blue” “I’d Run Away” “Two Hearts” from Tomorrow the Green Grass, and “Angelyne,” “Stumbling Through the Dark,” and “Tailspin” from the phenomenal Rainy Day Music. Louris has a great voice for playing live, and every time we see him play, it is a great show.
This is second time I saw him at the Somerville Theater. He played a few years ago with Mark Olson.
A clever robot kills his master and makes it look like a suicide.
You’re next.
Arthur C. Clarke has passed away. If I believed in Gods, he would be one of them.
Clarke was a very major SF author for me. Still is. Indeed, as a precocious teen, I read everything I could get my little hands on. Fountains of Paradise. Childhood’s End. 2001. Rendezvous with Rama. Imperial Earth. All were just amazing to me. And, of course, there are the countless short stories, too. If it was available in a bookstore in the early ’80s, then I read it at some point.
Childhood’s End is still one of my favorite books. You can’t beat the big reveal of the Overlords. That is how it is done.
He will be missed.
(Odd fact: I actually went so far as to refuse to read Asimov for a while because I had some strange notion that they were bitter rivals, and Clarke was my man. I have no idea where I came up with that goofy idea, but there you go. C’mon, I was 11! Of course, I rectified it soon enough, and they share equal space on my bookshelves now, fear not.)
UPDATE:
There is a good article here.