The idea of a post-apocalyptic world has been rampant the last few years. Zombies? Check. Being put into an arena to kill others your age? Check. The apocalypse is fashionable these days. Enter Gray: Part I by Loud Cadle. The first of a trilogy, this book has what others lack: reality.
Details below (spoiler alert, of course).
Continue reading Chewing Up “Gray Part I” by Lou Cadle
Ascend Online, whose name sounds like a beloved game I used to play called Eve Online, was immediately appealing to me for that reason. When I read some other online reviews, the book hearkened back to Ready Player One by Ernest Cline – a nostalgia piece aimed at video games the way that Cline’s work was a love letter to pop culture of the 1980’s.
Sadly I was disappointed.
Continue reading Chewing up “Ascend Online” by Luke Chmileriko
“I am strongly of the opinion that, after the age of twenty-one, a man ought not to be out of bed and awake at four in the morning. The hour breeds thought. At twenty-one, life being all future, it may be examined with impunity. But, at thirty, having become an uncomfortable mixture of future and past, it is a thing to be looked at only when the sun is high and the world full of warmth and optimism.”
Please feel free to link this little writing of mine, but remember to give proper attributions. 🙂
The sun was shining brightly – the sky empty of any clouds. By all accounts, including the ones of the two children jumping on the trampoline, the day was magnificent. Clearly the children believed the day to be nearly perfect, but what the day really needed to reach that perfection was rain. And not just any rain, no. The day needed a downpour, a true soaking was called for! Being children, they had the answer. An Indian rain dance. They were 6 at the time, and had been taught about how the Native Americans would dance when the crops needed watering, and so that the crops would grow tall and strong. Being children, a downpour would make them just as tall and strong as the crops. So they danced. In circles they moved, bouncing on the trampoline. Hollering and laughing and dancing.
At first, the sky refused to acquiesce. In truth, though, who can deny a happy child? The sky, being tolerant of children (in truth is was much more than just “tolerant”,but the sky didn’t like for anyone to know), eventually gave in. At first, it was a single cloud on the horizon. Then, there were more and many. Clouds of all shapes and sizes. Suddenly, the children are met by the blazing thunder and the deafening lightning.
The rain had come.
For hours in child-time, the rain came and showered them with happiness and joy. They were happy then, these children. A boy and girl. Cousins destined to love each other as brother and sister. They were closer than most, and they were innocent of everything that happened around them. They lived, and they laughed, and they loved. And they were drenched.
“We sit silently and watch the world around us. This has taken a lifetime to learn. It seems only the old are able to sit next to one another and not say anything and still feel content. The young, brash and impatient, must always break the silence. It is a waste, for silence is pure. Silence is holy. It draws people together because only those who are comfortable with each other can sit without speaking. This is the great paradox.”
“Books are the quietest and most constant of friends; they are the most accessible and wisest of counselors, and the most patient of teachers.”
– Charles William Elliot
Friday night, with malicious intent, I drove down the highway.
Friday night, with malicious intent, I made a couple of pit stops along the way.
Friday night, with malicious intent, I cracked open a new book.
Tis a harrowing tale that brings us here. A tale of such frightening aspects like counting, and buying, and staying in on a Friday eve! Proceed with caution, if you dare to proceed at all.
After waking on Friday morn, I felt the urge to… correction… I felt strongly compelled (!) to count – yes COUNT – the number of books on my bookshelves. The tally: 303. But oh frightening part, the truly truly truly knee-shaking hair-raising turning-you-into-a-quivering-mass scary part is that I realized I needed more. More!
With malicious intent I counted and knew the number 303 was vastly too small. With malicious intent, I vowed to increase this number.
And so, with no compunction for those around me or for myself, on my way home that evening, I stopped at Half-Priced Books. I had the singular goal, the goal of filling in a gap in my collection. I needed Terry Pratchett‘s Small Gods. (You may have noticed the plethora of Pratchett quotes lately – this has been the result of this growing uncontrollable urge to re-read this very book.)
Alas, Half-Priced Books failed me on this occasion. They had precious few of Pratchett’s books, and Small Gods was not one of them. So I had to settle with the following:
Having been disappointed in my quest, I pressed on. Next on my barrage of book buying: Barnes (and his friend Noble). Surely a full priced book store would help me quench my lust for the printed word. “Surely!” I exclaimed as I fishtailed into my designated parking spot at the front of the lot (Summer’s Shadow had grasped the importance of my mission – she’s a good girl and how I love to hear her growl!).
Barnes quickly pointed me to the malicious intent section (which encompasses the entire store) and I managed to find not one, not two, but three (thank you Count, ah ah ah) books that I absolutely had to have:
And so when I arrived home, after feeding myself, and feeding Riley, (Summer’s Shadow wasn’t hungry), I proceeded to do something dangerous.
With malicious intent, I cracked opened a new book to feed my mind.
“I am strongly of the opinion that, after the age of twenty-one, a man ought not to be out of bed and awake at four in the morning. The hour breeds thought. At twenty-one, life being all future, it may be examined with impunity. But, at thirty, having become an uncomfortable mixture of future and past, it is a thing to be looked at only when the sun is high and the world full of warmth and optimism.”
the dingo was here 