Doomsday Strangers

I still cannot understand, for the life of me, why people are so enamored with Connie Willis’s The Doomsday Book. It’s so repetitive in both event and exposition, but also in dialogue. The exact same points are made over and over and over and over, and then the same conversations are held over and over and over and over and then the exposition goes back and does the same thing. I fear I may never finish this one because I’ve been listening to it.

Actually, I also finally, for the first time in my life finally read Stranger in a Strange Land, which fell to the usual traps of the time, including over-description of women’s emotions versus men’s “boldness” and “brave” emotionless. (Sigh.) I didn’t hate it but I’ve read better Heinlein than this. The cover of the book says it’s the most famous science fiction novel ever, and I wonder what the equivalent is in a modern world. I imagine the most famous science fiction movie, at least in the sense of the most broad viewing these days is Star Wars, but then you’ll get me started on a nerdy rant about how Star Wars is actually science fantasy, as if this distinction deeply matters. (Says a woman who is a total self-confessed Trekkie and yet has a blog titled “Dumpster Jedi” versus “Dumpster, errr, um Vulcan” Whatever that’s supposed to be. I swear, it came from Futurama!) The book, though, that remains a mystery for me.

I also read Curioddity this weekend, which was a bit of a disappointment, though largely because I was expecting more action than I got. This may also be the fault of the library since I walked down there and once again realized how absolutely lousy the “flagship” branch’s selection of books is. For instance, not a single Heinlein book in their collection. Not one. And on a non SFF spectrum, they didn’t even have any John Irving books or biographies on any president who wasn’t Jimmy Carter. Geez.

And then there’s the TV world.

I finally caught up on Archer, season 7, being sad that there were only 10 episodes. I finished the second season of Love, still uncertain as to why I keep watching. It’s my problem with Downton Abbey, too. I never could figure out why I kept watching. I enjoyed it but the hook was confusing. I didn’t see where it was or what it was. I’m always frustrated that Netflix holds off on summer releases, so I go from June to November with so few new seasons and then in April and May I get 30 new shows. This year I’ve been apportioning them so I can space it out. Because of that, I still have Halt and Catch Fire, Hell on Wheels, Master of None, Better Call Saul, Grace & Frankie, Sherlock & now Kimmy Schmidt. See, way better than going on a week-to-week binge basis.

Wheel of Wasted Time

I know the rule about the Wheel of Time series. Robert Jordan’s first book is great. The second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh, eighth, ninth, tenth, and eleventh are not worth reading because they’re just long, messy, and rehash the same boring points over and over again. There’s some truth in this, which is why part of me considered jumping from book 3 (and after having read New Spring, the prequel) to Brandon Sanderson’s run. I haven’t, however, and am currently tackling book 4. I don’t know why I’m doing this, especially because there are Mistborn books I haven’t read (everything after book 3). It feels like one of those “Nerd Challenges,” though, to accomplish the full Wheel of Time cycle. I also read quickly, so it tends to go decently fast, even to finish a 1,000 page book. That said, I think I might just be torturing myself here.