Excuse me a moment while I sit here in mild shock. And I shouldn't be really, because I was warned. I was expecting it. I've been at things long enough to know what the score is. But still...
This morning, on the way out to work, a lorry pulls up. (Timing could have been better as I was running late and really didn't have time to be doing anything other than jumping in the car and racing off to the first appointment...which was going to be a nasty one, anyway, by all accounts...)
I was expecting the BFS Celeb book. That was fine. I was expecting there to be rather a lot more boxes than there usually is with a BFS book because the book's thicker and a larger format than we usually do. That was fine too. What I wasn't expecting was for it to be delivered with the BFS edition of Cinema Macabre that's going out as a members only freebie. 50 odd boxes worth of stuff.
Still, even that would have been ok. Book boxes (and indeed, magazine boxes for that matter) are generally small and manageable, even if there's rather a lot of them. They can be sneakily stashed behind chairs and under tables and piled up in corners with table cloths thrown over to disguise them... And at the very least, the nice delivery men always tote them into the hallway for you...
However, this particular time, they all came shrinkwrapped in one large pile on one large pallette and fork lifted onto the road and bye bye lorry. Oh what fun. And it must be time for the annual threat of eviction as nobody likes *that* many boxes in the house...
Sigh. And I so don't have my logistics head on to deal with the whole mess yet. Not after the horrible week that's just been.
But enough of the self indulgent whingery (which, alas, has been too common an occurrence lately... but, crikey, I'm just so damned *tired* and there's still a zillion things that need doing, all to be ready for exactly the same time. Or possibly even earlier. Or 4 months ago.)
Happy book things
Before the week that's best forgotten, was book binge week. Otherwise know as the annual Summer Spending Spree.
So, the very short version: The Lies of Locke Lamora by Scott Lynch is so much better than the hype. I didn't think I could be that impressed by a book. But wow. It's truly, totally, utterly fantastic. Chock full of I-gotta-read- a-bit-mores...
Keeping it Real by Justina Robson is also fab.
Bridge of Dreams by Chaz Brenchley is excellent with some delicious language in it. Can't wait for the next one in the series.. (according to his blog... LJ.... thingy... he's just finished pruning the 2nd one...)
Danse Macabre by Laurell K. Hamilton (look, I know I said I wasn't going to, but it was on sale...) is actually better than expected. Skip the inevitable and relentles sex scenes and you have some interesting continuances of the vamp & shifter politics, and that's one of the things I like about the series. At this point, I'm hanging on to see how she resolves the mother of all vamps plot arc cos Anita as a protag is getting too whiny and the continued oops-there's-another-super-power is getting boring.
Anansi Boys by Neil Gaiman was also better than expected.
Broken by Kelley Armstrong was... strange. Never been all that keen when it's Elena the wolf's turn to narrate as I find the character almost as irritating as Paige the witch. But it was...ok.
Ooh, the Write Fantastic have started up their group blog thing.. that's lovely stuff.
(No, sorry, that's all I got... unable to think while my brain cycles between stressed and depressed and back again.)