Lindsay > Recent Status Updates

The Little Goddess by Ian McDonald ★★★★☆
A former Kumari (real life Nepalese child goddesses who "retire" around the time they begin menstruation) takes on a job smuggling AIs in hardware implanted in her brain, causing her to rediscover a form of divinity.

Rogue Farm by Charles Stross ★★☆☆☆
In a post-singularity world Joe and his wife Maddie encounter a "farm" which is a biomechanical conglomerate monstrosity that wants to take its constituent people to live with most of humanity in orbit around Jupiter in a cataclysmic launch event. I felt it lacked stakes given the nature of the post-Singularity world. It was made into a BAFTA-nominated animation in 2004.

The Potter of Bones by Eleanor Arnason ★★★★★

Set on an alien world with a non-human intelligent species. Haik develops a fascination for fossils in her early life, goes on to become a potter who becomes famous for the strange animals that she includes on her pottery, and who goes on to become her world's version of Darwin. The culture that she's part of is matriarchal and most relationships are same-sex.

I'm going to be reading this through the rest of December 2023 and all through 2024. Currently that's planned on three stories each month. The plan is to post reviews of each story as I go.

"The consequences of lying are always so much less than the consequences of being less than perfect." - This from an autistic character.

"Utriusque Cosmi" by Robert Charles Wilson. Fantastic story at several levels at once, from tightly focused tragedy to cosmic destiny. Really brilliant, particularly at this length.

I imagine this is what it would be like for an American reading something where most of the dialogue is in thick strine. I just don't have enough exposure to African American culture or media to find this anything but impenetrable.

I gave it a good go, but this was very not for me.

DNF 55%

Nick felt weird, off-kilter. “I’m not fragile.”

Dad rolled his eyes. “I know. I figured that out the first time I dropped you on your head and it made a little dent. You didn’t even cry.”

Nick glared up at him. “What do you mean, the first time? There was more than once?”

“Being a parent is hard. Kids are slippery.”

“All right. Perhaps that’s not the concern, so much. But aren’t you afraid you’ll get jealous?”

“What, of some other man with Beartongue? I’d throw my arms around him and call him my savior. Perhaps we could arrange a duty roster. A woman in her forties with a lot of aggressions to work out is a terrifying glory.”

“Sworn to her service,” rumbled Stephen. “By an oath.”

“You are?” said DuValier, which was good because otherwise Grace would have said it, and that would have rather spoiled the effect. “I thought you were sworn to the Temple of the Rat.”

“I swear a lot.”

“What in the name of the little household gods is that?”

“An abomination,” said Stephen. “I believe the cook called it gravy.”

“Gravy is not that color.”

“I did not say the cook was correct.”

“We can find other books,” Sebastian said, a hint of impatience in his voice. “Recent ones. Surely McKinnon’s has an ample stock. All we need to do is a bit more research.”

Grace nodded in agreement. “Research solves everything.”

The duke pinched the bridge of his nose as he squeezed his eyes shut. “Good. God.”

This is an amazing book. I could quote every page, for insight, for raw honesty and for strong political and social statements. And I'm learning stuff too, some fascinating and some appalling (Hobbyists for instance).

Traveling to another plane of existence tasted like cyan. It smelled like a stubbed toe. I detected notes of lighthouse, iambic pentameter, and general relativity.

“Woo!” Quentin shouted, raising his fists into the air. “I’m going to be famous!”

“You’re already famous, you dip,” I said. “I learned who you were through one of the oldest stories still being told. You are literally legendary.”

Quentin grinned. “Yeah, but now I’m going to be New Economy famous. I’ve gone multi-platform.”

including the Revolution Clock, which showed an accurate-to-the-minute countdown to armed revolt in countries around the globe. It had twenty-two faces and seventy-six hands and had to be wound regularly or it would simply begin screaming.

“No insult intended!” M-Bot added. “You have very nice shoes!”

“We’ve been working on his compliments,” I said.

“They aren’t nearly as stupid as the rest of your outfit!”

“He still needs practice.”

“FM, didn’t you say people like me have unnatural emotions?”

“Yes, but you can’t help being a product of your environment!” FM said. “It’s not your fault you’re a bloodthirsty ball of aggression and destruction.”

“I am?” I perked up. “Like, that’s how you see me?”

She nodded.

Awesome.

This is basically Peter F. Hamilton via Marko Kloos with space Nazis as the bad guys.

“They can tak’ oour lives but they canna tak’ oour troousers!”

“Ye’ll tak’ the high road an’ I’ll tak’ yer wallet!”

“There can only be one t’ousand!”

“Ach, stick it up yer trakkans!”

But the voices gradually came together in one roar that shook the walls:

“Nae King! Nae Quin! Nae laird! Nae master! We willna be fooled again!”

“Whut’s the plan, Rob?” said one of them.

“Okay, lads, this is what we’ll do. As soon as we see somethin’, we’ll attack it. Right?”

This caused a cheer.

“Ach, ’tis a good plan,” said Daft Wullie.

That was how it worked. No magic at all. But that time it had been magic. And it didn’t stop being magic just because you found out how it was done.

If there is a Big Rat, and I hope there is, it would not talk of war and death. It would be made of the best we could be, not the worst that we are.