The Unwritten

A lot of things I "didn't like" as a kid and young adult had a lot to do with my early influences. Mom doesn't like gold jewelry, so I don't like it either. Dad doesn't like opera, so I think it sucks too. Meeting people from the internet is dangerous folly, so I don't do that. And people who read comic books, well, they live in their mom's basement and fix their glasses with tape, don't they?

Well...

Having an opinion about something is all well and good, but what's good for one person (silver jewelry only) isn't necessarily good for me (a little gold is actually really pretty). So I delved into some of the things I wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole earlier, and what do you know? Keeping yourself open to new ideas is good. Opera is unbearably beautiful sometimes. I married someone from the internet. And recently, I started reading comic books.

Hard to get over the stigma sometimes. The way these stories are set up sometimes is freakishly beautiful. Combine reading a book with watching a subtitled movie -- it's a little like that. But that doesn't really matter when I'm carrying one of these books around my house like someone might ask me to solve a calculus problem (that is to say, hoping I won't run into anyone). Hey, I'm a married adult! I work in the beauty industry! I read books without pictures in them! I can't just walk into a comic book store and have everyone stare at me.

Okay, but I did do it. I walked in. Not only did everyone not stare at me for being a woman amongst the nerds, there were loads of regular-looking women there. Women worked there. Not only that, at every turn, I'd see something and go, "Ooh!" So either the nerd stereotype is way overblown, or I am one and need to embrace that.

THE UNWRITTEN

When I read that this series was about a man who's father had written a book about a "boy wizard" (similar to Harry Potter), and that people thought the son was actually the character come to life, I was intrigued. As the story progresses, we flash back to Rudyard Kipling, Oscar Wilde, Mark Twain, etc. The literary geek in me is squealing (and the "regular" part of me is hoping my husband isn't going to come in the room and laugh -- but screw it: he's reading Game of Thrones and talking to me in Olde Englishe).

While this series is more fanciful than Habibi or Daytripper, it is a lot of fun. And when I get my hands on the remaining 60something issues, you can bet I'm holing up that weekend to finish it in one gulp.

Broken Monsters

It's been a while since I've read a book I loved as much as Broken Monsters by Lauren Beukes. Unfortunately for all of you, it won't be released until September 16th. I got my copy at the mass of humanity that was BookCon. (Until July 16, you can enter to win at Goodreads.)

The story follows several seemingly disconnected people, and involves a serial killer in Detroit. I mean, it sounds a little interesting, but something violent happening in Detroit? Not exactly a shocker. However, the first victim is a boy who has been cut in half and fused with half a deer. (That isn't a spoiler; it happens in the first 2 pages -- and on the cover in some instances.)

It's hard to explain. This book wasn't great because of the plot or because of the characters ... maybe it was because of the way it was written. Reading made me jealous at best. Maybe I'm not supposed to compare myself to other writers, but I kept looking for something, some trick that made what she'd done possible ... but every time I tried to read objectively, I kept getting sucked into the story until the words melted into pictures in my head. Damn you, Lauren Beukes. I love you so much.