About two weeks ago I had a mini freak-out in my kitchen. A GOOD freak-out. I actually jumped up and down and squealed "I don't have to work on the PhD any more!"
This means that I can read. WHATEVER I WANT. Yes, you read that right: I get to wallow in books again.
So far this month I've read (In addition to a boat-load of short fiction and writing that's about writing I've assigned to my students):
Here, have a photo of some October flowers.
This means that I can read. WHATEVER I WANT. Yes, you read that right: I get to wallow in books again.
So far this month I've read (In addition to a boat-load of short fiction and writing that's about writing I've assigned to my students):
- the latest in the Outlander Series (Diana Gabaldon's Written in My Own Heart's Blood), after taking most of the year to read the whole series again (Yes, I'm a total geek and have to read every book in order before I get to start a new one).
- Emily St. John Mandel's Station Eleven
- Paul Cornell's Witches of Lychford
- Chris Daugherty's Zombie Inc.
- Elizabeth Hand's Wylding Hall
- not quite half of Scott Lynch's The Republic of Thieves: Book Three of the Gentlemen Bastards
- The Intro to Neil Gaiman's Trigger Warning
- and the very beginning of Nicola Griffith's Hild
Here, have a photo of some October flowers.
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