It'd been disturbing me a little. What do the Russians find so fascinating about my blog? Could I be on a KGB watch-list? (Yes, I grew up during the Cold War.)
And I finally looked up the referring site. They're a known spam site. Not that I want spammers, but why don't they want to spam my page? Am I doing something wrong? AM I NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR SPAM? I mean, I'd have to remove the spam comments and all, but I'm not sure if I should be offended.
13 December 2011
End of the world and literature
While full-length novels are fantastic, especially Heinlein and the classics, SF short stories are sometimes the way to go. You can find new authors that way, without having to commit to a potentially awful book.
One that hasn't really ever completely left my mind since I read it sometime in the past year is World Without End, by F. Gwynplaine MacIntyre. Even that story on its own makes it worth buying the collection The Mammoth Book of the End of the World. (Try to find it in a local independent book store if you can!) Although it sounds like he was a strange and unstable man in life, I will be looking up some of his other works.
But then today I came across In Fading Suns and Dying Moons by John Varley. That one is definitely getting another reading or seven. Another end of the world story, with a more sudden and defined end than the aforementioned story. Which in turn, makes me think of the absolutely brilliant The Nine Billion Names of God, by Arthur C. Clarke.
What is it about these kinds of stories that can draw one in so thoroughly, even a not-very-often morbid person? How do some people manage to draw you into their imagination in such a way that it sticks, possibly forever?
And how sad is it that at least in Ontario, fewer children seem to be reading for pleasure? Books were my world when I was little. When I needed them, books were there as an escape, as a journey, as an enhancement. As any freaking thing I wanted. Even now, it's nice to curl up on the couch with a warm drink and a new (or old) book.
P.S. Yes, in fact I did discover an online version of The Encyclopaedia of Science Fiction today!
One that hasn't really ever completely left my mind since I read it sometime in the past year is World Without End, by F. Gwynplaine MacIntyre. Even that story on its own makes it worth buying the collection The Mammoth Book of the End of the World. (Try to find it in a local independent book store if you can!) Although it sounds like he was a strange and unstable man in life, I will be looking up some of his other works.
But then today I came across In Fading Suns and Dying Moons by John Varley. That one is definitely getting another reading or seven. Another end of the world story, with a more sudden and defined end than the aforementioned story. Which in turn, makes me think of the absolutely brilliant The Nine Billion Names of God, by Arthur C. Clarke.
What is it about these kinds of stories that can draw one in so thoroughly, even a not-very-often morbid person? How do some people manage to draw you into their imagination in such a way that it sticks, possibly forever?
And how sad is it that at least in Ontario, fewer children seem to be reading for pleasure? Books were my world when I was little. When I needed them, books were there as an escape, as a journey, as an enhancement. As any freaking thing I wanted. Even now, it's nice to curl up on the couch with a warm drink and a new (or old) book.
P.S. Yes, in fact I did discover an online version of The Encyclopaedia of Science Fiction today!
12 December 2011
Books, energy, and nuclear wolves
Been spending the last several days devouring some of those books. When I've had the time. And doing work-related stuff, and trying to finish up the little bit of xmas shopping that I have to do.
Something relating two of the three above is that I found a LIFE magasine from before WWII, in almost perfect condition. Hope my aunt hasn't secretly found this blog, because she's going to love it.
And one of the things keeping me busy is trying to put together a coherent, non-rambling response to my friend Leslie, who is wanting to keep believing in nuclear energy. So much to say, it's almost like being in school again and putting together a position paper! The "green" renewable sources generally need a back-up as things like wind and solar can rarely be at full capacity. Hydroelectric is fantastic, but not every country has that option. People are backing away from fracturing because of possible environmental concerns. And really, nuclear isn't as terrible as most think, the accidents are so few and far between that it's ridiculous, and even then, the consequences are generally not as terrible as initially assumed. Well, the radioactive wolves near Chernobyl sound scary. As The Bloggess says, "We may have over-planned for zombies, and under-planned for nuclear wolves."
Do you think that being bitten by a radioactive wolf would give you super powers?
Something relating two of the three above is that I found a LIFE magasine from before WWII, in almost perfect condition. Hope my aunt hasn't secretly found this blog, because she's going to love it.
And one of the things keeping me busy is trying to put together a coherent, non-rambling response to my friend Leslie, who is wanting to keep believing in nuclear energy. So much to say, it's almost like being in school again and putting together a position paper! The "green" renewable sources generally need a back-up as things like wind and solar can rarely be at full capacity. Hydroelectric is fantastic, but not every country has that option. People are backing away from fracturing because of possible environmental concerns. And really, nuclear isn't as terrible as most think, the accidents are so few and far between that it's ridiculous, and even then, the consequences are generally not as terrible as initially assumed. Well, the radioactive wolves near Chernobyl sound scary. As The Bloggess says, "We may have over-planned for zombies, and under-planned for nuclear wolves."
Do you think that being bitten by a radioactive wolf would give you super powers?
6 December 2011
Old book stores
I adore old book stores. Especially used book stores. Everything there is possibly a volume that somebody has loved and maybe agonised over passing on for somebody else to love.
To paraphrase Giles from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, there's something about the feel and smell of an actual book. A computer or e-reader can never replace them, at least for me. Maybe an e-reader for a one-time read of a popular book, but I'd rather my classics and my beloved sci-fi be right there, allowing me to turn the page, bring in anywhere without worrying about power left.
There's a lovely used book store a block or two from me. The man who works there seems to know most of the store intimately. He can chat with you about the genre you're interested in for ages. If somebody comes in and says they want a particular volume, he can generally tell them directly where to go, and know without a computer that there is still at least one copy left.
And the treasure-trove behind his front desk! Well-preserved and old books and magasines galore. For my father's birthday last year, I found him an excellently-preserved LIFE magasine from the 1940s, and have seen some from as early as the 30s.
For me, one of the sadder things in life is a person who doesn't enjoy, or doesn't know how to read. On a personal note, one of the sadder things is the realisation that I don't have enough shelf space, or room for for shelves in which to keep all my books. But maybe through some place like this store, somebody else can love some of my treasures.
To paraphrase Giles from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, there's something about the feel and smell of an actual book. A computer or e-reader can never replace them, at least for me. Maybe an e-reader for a one-time read of a popular book, but I'd rather my classics and my beloved sci-fi be right there, allowing me to turn the page, bring in anywhere without worrying about power left.
There's a lovely used book store a block or two from me. The man who works there seems to know most of the store intimately. He can chat with you about the genre you're interested in for ages. If somebody comes in and says they want a particular volume, he can generally tell them directly where to go, and know without a computer that there is still at least one copy left.
And the treasure-trove behind his front desk! Well-preserved and old books and magasines galore. For my father's birthday last year, I found him an excellently-preserved LIFE magasine from the 1940s, and have seen some from as early as the 30s.
For me, one of the sadder things in life is a person who doesn't enjoy, or doesn't know how to read. On a personal note, one of the sadder things is the realisation that I don't have enough shelf space, or room for for shelves in which to keep all my books. But maybe through some place like this store, somebody else can love some of my treasures.
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