Happy Valentine's Day
(Another of those American manufactured excuses to give presents.)The Read: When I took in my trades, I found the complete Hawk and Fisher books by Simon R. Green, including two books of three each. Eight books for the price of three. Sure a good enough bargain to thrill my cheap little soul. Only after reading the first, Hawk and Fisher, I'm beginning to wonder if it's such a good deal. -- I bought them. Right. Does that mean I have to read them?
Another dilemma presents itself. The books were writen in the 1990s, with the first one having a copyright of 1990. Twenty years ago.
I thoroughly enjoy the Nightside series. Have even reread it. Like the Hawk and Fisher for what they are -- a nice linear mystery with a locked room puzzle and two different killers with two different motives. But there was the other stuff. The excessive adverbs (enough to grate), head hopping, and a lot of back story disguised as dialog. I don't think this is a Brit thing. Just earlier in a career at a time when such things were more permissible. The shallowness of the characterizations also bothered me. Green does much better with sparse descriptions in his Taylor series.
Having said that, I'm wondering why I can't get comfortable with my last critique due for discussion on Wednesday. I've got their critiques of Emma which found some embarrassing nits.
Progress: In one day? Actually, there was some. Emma. Sprayed the nits. Or, is that, corrected my mistakes.
Maren. The pile of paper on the card table is growing. Most of it has useful info on it. My suspicions of yesterday are firming. I think the first third of the book I planned to write is going to be 40-50,000 words. In other words, a novel by itself. -- One of the reasons I like YA. The books can be shorter.
Oh, have I said that Maren's name is Maren Valentene.
Trivia: Made the old man happy. I cooked a recipe from a cookbook he lugged up from the basement.
[Have I mentioned that my house is anchored by the books in the basement?]
Anyway, I tried a new recipe for an onion stew. I don't think I'll cook it again.
[Sorry, can't resist. As far as I know, the old man's kisses begin with "Kay".]