(1955- )
Reading The Glister by John Burnside was like opening a perfectly crafted wooden box and finding inside a set of components, nested into cognac-colored velvet. Some components were made of finely worked gold and brass; some were polished wood; some were ethereal blown glass; some were made of jewels and bone. Usually, components like these fit together to form a whole: a telescope, a kaleidoscope or a theodolite. Try as I would, though, I could not get the components of The Glister to merge into one coherent whole.
Read More
Shoot, I just handed the book on so I can't check, but I think this book takes places sooner than…
Is this part of the "New Management" branch of the Laundry Files? As in, has the Elder God Nyarlahotep taken…
I was reading along with no trouble suspending disbelief until I got to "internet influencers!" And then I thought, "Well,…
I recently stumbled upon the topic of hard science fiction novels, by reading a comment somewhere referring to Greg Egan's…
This story, possibly altered who I would become and showed me that my imagination wasn't a burden. I think i…