tarshaan: (misbehave)
I think this is the first fic I've written in.... years. Anyway, [personal profile] spook_me fic below. Late (oops, I plead unexpected time-suck activities last week), and Firefly, which no, I'm not entirely sure how that happened. But anyway.

The [personal profile] spook_me prompt I received is here, and part of the picture most definitely has a major role in the fic...

OMG, Fic!


Getting the Point )

tarshaan: (bookaholic)
because I keep thinking that I should keep better track of the contents of what I read, and not just the tag list in libraything.

So, today's book is Like Venus Fading, by Marsha Hunt.

I picked this up (for a whole 50 cent in the charity store) because of the title. The cover pic made me hesitate for a few as its not really typical of the type or era of books I normally read, but really, it's a cool title. And I've had some really good luck picking books by title; Do White Whales Sing at the Edge of the World? is still one of my most favouritest books ever.

This book doesn't really live up to its title, though. The characters are pretty stock, and the plot - it's the story of a woman who basically takes no control over her own life, and how much of that is down to her character and how much (as the book would like to argue) to the era and culture and family she was raised in might be debatable; but the bottom line is she's passive to the point not just of self-destruction but of self-dissolution. About the only thing that saves it from being depressing as hell is that you know from the beginning she eventually ends up - not happy, exactly. But content?

Despite spending much of the novel wanting to slap Irene and tell her to grow up already, there was just enough there to keep me reading through to the end (and wanting to slap her through to the end, too). Part of that's my inability to stop reading a book once I've started; and I can't say there's much to be learnt from this book, or much entertainment in it; but I'm not sorry I read it, either.

And I still like the title.
tarshaan: (bookaholic)
Innocence, by Jane Mendelsohn

promising, but the ending disappoints.
tarshaan: (Default)
words
taste strange shapes
echoing they flee
shriek laughter
shed apostrophes
like clothes
trampling through the empty halls
in search of swimming pools and night
until
exhausted
they seek home

this is not their home.
these markings, they
make no sense
non sense
nonsense

or maybe it's
just me.


(Why, yes, I do have writer's block again. Damn it.)

October 2014

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