In the meantime, here's a before/after scene comparison between the second and third drafts. Each is just under 1000 words, I think. I (obviously) prefer the third draft version, but if anyone would have the ten mins spare to read them both and give me their opinions on what has improved (and, more importantly, what is WORSE in the new draft) then I'd be infinitely grateful. This scene comes in around 50 pages through the novel.

--------------------------------
WEATHERMEN - 2ND DRAFT
-------------------------------

Rei was the last one awake when they came, howling and pounding through the night.

She jumped to her feet at the noise, thinking that she was still dreaming; it was a nightmare, memories of men dying in the clearing. But then it came again, a long echoing moan that knotted her guts. She knew the sound. “Wake up!” she said, kicking Pal in the side. “Something’s there!”

He was up in moments, spear in hand. They pressed back to back, and she felt him shivering. “What is it?” he asked, and the first one flew over the ridge.

At first all she could see was moonlight on teeth. It landed in the dirt, fur bristling, eyes like dark pits, and when it growled her knees turned to rubber. The others were awake too, Marissa screaming, Aus saying get your spears, and the creature snapped and drooled.

There were four altogether. Three sets of eyes stalked around the edge of the camp. She could smell them, all wet musk and blood. They were almost certainly after the meat. Tobias was shouting “I told you, it’s the thing I saw, I told you!” Foster was behind her, breathing heavy. “What the hell?” he said, and when nobody answered he threw his spear.

It missed, vanishing into the bushes, and the creature didn’t even flinch. It stalked forward and its footfalls were silent. “Don’t throw,” said Aus. “Stab it if it comes close.” Tobias was there too, the point of his spear shaking. He hadn’t said a word.

Alix pressed in tight, her face drawn. Her eyes glowed the same way they had in the hunt. She held her spear at the hip, knees bent and ready to spring. The pine needles were still tucked behind her ears. When she bumped shoulders with Rei she nodded. Then the creature sprang, and its jaws opened wide to close around Rei’s throat.

She had time to throw up her hands and scream before it bore her to the ground. Its spit was hot against her neck. They were shouting all around her, but she couldn’t make out the words. It growled so low she felt it in her chest, and the weight of it was crushing. She couldn’t breathe.

She closed her eyes and waited to die.

But the creature didn’t bite. She opened her eyes.

It was inches from her face and its breath stank like rotten meat, but it couldn’t come any closer because her spear was jammed between its jaws. It gnashed and writhed and tore the branch apart piece by piece. Soon it would snap in two, and that would be the end.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Pal raise his own spear high.

She heard them stab deep, the wet noise of sinew separating. Then the creature whined and leapt away. A shadow vanished into the bushes. There was a clicking of stones as it tumbled down the embankment, and then nothing.

Alix was already by her side. “Don’t get up,” she said, and tore away the sleeve of her shirt. Blood pumped thickly from ragged gashes. Alix pressed down and Rei wailed. “It’s okay,” the older girl said. “Just a cut.”

“I don’t believe you.” Alix’s face was beginning to blur. Pal was standing over here, his spear dangling in his hand. The tip was coated in blood and hair. “What was that? Did you kill it?”

“Aus says wolves. But it’s gone.” He bent low, and for a second she thought he would kiss her. Imagining that made her giggle. He cupped her cheek. “Is she alright?”

“She’s fine. Go away, they might come back.” All the stars were pinwheeling. There was a ringing in her ears that reminded her of a song she’d heard many years before. Her arm was going numb. She realised she was still holding her spear; it was chewed down to splinters. She let go.

Alix was slapping her across the face. “Stay awake,” she said. “Don’t fall asleep.” Rei tried to push her away, but her arms were too heavy.

She closed her eyes.

-------------------------------
WEATHERMEN - 3RD DRAFT
-------------------------------

Rei was the last one awake, watching the fire slowly implode. She flicked the lid of her lighter open and shut, open and shut. She tucked it away and rested her chin in her hands.

Faintly, distant, there was a howl. It wavered through the forest. Not one of the birds, surely. She straightened up and waited. Nothing else. She took the last strip of venison and chewed. For the first time in weeks her stomach wasn’t aching. It was a good feeling.

There was a whisk of leaves. She put her back to the fire and peered into the darkness. Nothing. But she could hear it now, no mistake. Hot and heavy breath just beyond the firelight. “Pal? Pal, wake up.” Pal didn’t move. She shook him until his eyelids fluttered open. “There’s something-”

The first one came over the ridge, and all she could think was Tobias was right! The teeth! Moonlight tangled in fur. Its eyes were dark pits. It growled, and her stomach turned to water.

“Pal!” He was up, spear in hand, lips drawn back. “What is it?”

“Get behind me.” The others were waking up now, but there were more things moving just beyond the fire glow. Pal swallowed, adams apple bobbing. Marissa was screaming something unintelligible, Aus saying get the spears, get the spears! The creature snapped and drooled.

Four altogether. Three sets of eyes stalked the edge of the camp. They smelt of musk and blood. Tobias was on his feet, and she and Pal pressed in to him, back to back. “They followed us,” said Tobias.

“You brought them!” Pal was white-faced. “They smelled your stupid deer! Rei, get behind me.”

“Get me my spear.”

“Rei, no!”

“Pal, get me my spear.” The creature crept silently, ears flat against its head. It was herding them, Rei realised. She couldn’t look away. The spear was in her hands. She shifted her grip down to the base, ready to throw.

The creature sprang. No warning, no sound. It was a arrow of shadow through the air, mouth open wide, and Rei had time to throw her hands up and scream before its jaws closed around her throat.

She fell with it atop her and when she hit the ground lights burst in her head. There was no air to breath. The others were shouting but she couldn’t make out the sounds. Just the rasp of its hair, and hot spit against her neck. It growled so low that the sound vibrated in her chest. A sharp pop – a rib, or her spine? Pain flared in her shoulder. Still no air. Her lungs were crushed. She closed her eyes and waited to die.

There was no bite.

She opened her eyes.

It was only inches from her face, breath stinking of rotten meat, but it couldn’t come any closer because her spear was jammed between its jaws. It growled and writhed. The spear splintered. It was almost through. She tried to scream.

On the edge of vision she saw Tobias and Pal raise their spears high.

There was a wet snap as the spear cut through muscle and sinew. The creature whined, high and pitiful, and then it leapt away. A shadow burrowing into the bushes, a clicking of stones, and then nothing. They were gone.

Alix was already by her side. “Don’t say anything.” She tore away Rei’s sleeve. The flesh beneath was pulped. “Pal, drop that thing and get the bandages.” Pal stared, wide-eyed. His spear dangled limp. Even though the pain made her vision cloudy Rei saw the tip was clean. “Pal! The bandages!” Alix turned back. “It’s okay. Just a cut.”

“Don’t believe you.” Talking made Rei’s lungs ache. “Did you kill it?”

“Got it pretty good.”

“What was it?” If the answer came she didn’t hear. The stars pinwheeled. There was a ringing in her ears that reminded her of a song she’d heard many years ago. Alix was slapping her across the face. Rei tried to push her away but her arms were too heavy.

She closed her eyes.

She dreamed there were voices. People floating above, speaking in whispers. Is she alright? She’s got to be alright. Please! Alix, wake her up!

Then another boy. Tobias. Give her some room. She’ll be okay.

Please! Rei! Pal sounded close to breaking.

She’ll be fine.

Oh please oh please…

If she could have sat up and hugged him she would have but the voices were pulling back, and before her was the light of a screen and a keybug. Storms churned in hologram. Her mouth filled with saliva. She reached for them.

A crack of light. Hold her down.

Rei? Rei!

The keybug blinked out and all was dark again.

Por ejemplo, tu amigo, con el que vas a ver la película y que tampoco se da cuenta del trueque, compra entradas para ver: "my dream or loneliness never walks alone". Por una vez llegáis, recogéis las entradas (¡tenéis entradas!), dais una vuelta, veis a los zombies que hay porla calle. Los zombies merecen foto:

(Nota: como no conozco a este tipo y le he cropado para mostrar los zombies que nos encontrábamos por la calle, al menos le tapo los ojos, aunque a menos que vaya siempre así pintado o sea un zombie de verdad, tampoco es que se le vaya a reconocer fácilmente. Y darle las gracias.)

¿Por dónde iba?... Ah sí, véis a los zombies, vais a cenar y aún os sigue sobrando tiempo para dar otra vueltecilla. Os encontráis a unos amigos por la calle, os explicáis los respectivos planes cinéfilos (y los no cinéfilos) para el fin de semana, y ahora sí que ya iría siendo hora de entrar.

¿Y dónde entras? Pues te vas al Retiro y entras. Aunque en tus entradas ponga Prado. Y te pones a ver Tokyo. Tu vas donde te parece (que para algo has pagado, ¿o no es eso lo que se dice?).

Visto desde la distancia, la primera sospecha podría haber sido cuando el tipo que nos dejó pasar nos dijo que llegábamos tarde y yo le dije "justitos" y él "tarde" y yo pensé "ya que nos deja pasar, tampoco te pongas chulita". Él tenía razón, para la de Tokyo llegábamos 15 minutos tarde :p

La segunda sospecha (todas vistas a posteriori...) fue que eran tres historias en vez de una.

La tercera que cuando se acabaron las tres historias en la pantalla ponía "TOKYIO" (y no aquél título tan largo que no conseguía recordar pero que ése no era).

La cuarta que al llegar a casa, la página de Sitges que tenía abierta en el navegador era de otra peli (y la había estado mirando, aunque parece que no muy atentamente, antes de irme).

Y la confirmación vino cuando cogí la entrada y leí que, efectivamente, nos habíamos confundido de película.

Respuesta de JJ cuando se lo dije: "Ya, me lo pareció en los créditos. Pero ésta es la que yo quería ir a ver, y se habían acabado las entradas." Con esto no quiso decir que lo hubiera hecho intencionadamente (creo... jeje), pero al menos no nos salió mal del todo ;) Aunque lo cierto es que las dos pintában muy bien.

Ya decía yo que la primera historia tenía un estilo Gondry bastante inconfundible...

Aber genug davon. Hier dann also eine Tabelle voller Ereignisse für die Karriere des Scouts. Wie immer habe ich mir Mühe gegeben, für genügend Spannung und Abwechslung zu sorgen und hoffe, dass dieser Ansatz gelungen ist. Also, ansehen, testen und Spaß mit haben. Und wenn ihr gerade dabei seid, ein bisschen Feedback freut natürlich auch immer.

Zeig mir die Regeln!

Diese Tabelle ging mir sogar noch schwerer von der Hand als die Händler-Karriere, aber ich hoffe trotzdem eine interessante Ereignistabelle geschaffen zu haben, welche die Charaktererschaffung noch spannender macht als bisher. Wie immer freue ich mich natürlich über Feedback in jeder Form :)

Zeig mir die Regeln!

One of the great things about Supernatural is the impenetrable bond between Dean and Sam.  But last night that bond broke.  It was kind of like that moment when you realize your hero is only human.  It was a blow to my belief in the Winchesters to conquer all.

It makes sense for the story itself, but I never thought I'd see the day when something came between the boys.  Sure they've fought before and disagreed on many occasions, but this season they lost trust in each other.

And I don't know about Dean, but I didn't believe Sam when he said that he wasn't going to mess with his ESP abilities.  And even if Sam was speaking the truth, I don't think Ruby is going to let her little prodigy that easy.

I think Sam wants to think he's doing good with his psychic exorcisms.  And the fact that the human victims are still alive is a big plus.  But I think he knows deep down that he's crossing a line or else he'd share his work with Dean.

I know that living up to big brother's expectations can be rough and that Sam has always felt like he's different, but Sam has always confided in Dean.  So the fact that he didn't this time, says something.

Did Sam see a little of himself in the Rugaru who was fighting a hunger that would cause him to lose control and cross a point of no return?

I still have a lot of questions about what Sam and Ruby are doing.

Why are they still looking for Lilith?  Is it for vengeance or is about the whole 66 seals until Lucifer walks the earth thing?  What are they going to do when they find her?  Why are they keeping the search from Dean?

I thought when Castiel showed up on the scene, Ruby split.  Why did she stay around?  Surely she knows that the angel is going to fill in Dean on her extracurricular activities.  Or does she think her power over Sam is already strong enough to prevent losing him?

I'm assuming that Sam summoned Ruby back from Hell.  But it seems a little too convenient that she's the one to tutor Sam in his powers.  Is Ruby working for Lilith?  Or Azazel?  Or someone else entirely?

What is her (or whoever she works for) plan for Sam?  And has Sam gone too far to turn back?

I can't wait to see what happens next.  But at the same time I'm dreading it.  The thought of Dean having to fight his own brother is going to tear me apart.  Sam better get his act together, dump Ruby and get back in the game - soon.

And did I mention how much I hate Ruby right now!

It's a good thing next week looks like it'll be a little lighter.  Here's a preview:

What did you think of the episode?  Is there hope for Sam?  Can Dean stop him or will Castiel have to intervene?  And how gross was the rugaru?

AICN: "The 4400" co-creator Scott Peters is penning a remake of the 1983 Nazi-lizard alien-invastion miniseries "V."

Variety describes the premise:

In this case, the new "V" will center on Erica Evans, a Homeland Security agent with an aimless son who’s got problems. When the aliens arrive, her son gloms on to them — causing tension within the family. As in the original "V," several storylines will unfold simultaneously.

Find all of Variety’s story on the matter here."

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The strange thing is, I like the webisodes better.

Same writers, same actors, same producers. The story is changed a bit, perhaps to tighten things up, or maybe to spread some mystery across several episodes, but nothing drastically different. Using actual sets rather than green-screened backgrounds certainly grounds the actors better. Still, the webisodes, for lack of a better phrase, felt gutsier. The actors seemed freer to bite into their roles (although this could be the effect of having to essentially shoot the pilot twice).

I do love the idea of a ragtag group of adventurers trying to provide a safe haven for the monsters that are disappearing all over the world.

NOTE ABOUT THE COLOR: yes it's shitty anime cel shading but I was still trying that out back in '04. Read it for the dumbness, not for the style I guess

For those who care: The blue haired big titted chick is Geli; a very old character of mine from back in the day. In her time she's evolved quite a bit; at the time this silly comic was done she was still working her gig as a bit of a space pirate (more like a space hooker since that's a bit more reliable business). This one was done as a dare from a friend to put random Star Wars RPG characters in a group with generic scifi babe and watch shit happen. That and I wanted to draw a wet wookie on the next page. Seriously tho...Geli is so the worse choice of a random chick to stick one's dick into. Who knows where she's been? And with her super strength she could possibly snap it off (What you think gene upgraded strength would only count on skeletal muscle? Yeah sorry...it don't work that way ;p)

You know what really sucks? I go home for the weekend, find my bike is trashed, my stethoscope is dry rotted (have to buy a new one wtf >.<) and my car has no brakes. Luckily car now has brakes fixed, bike will go to the shop once the metal fab place opens for winter bike time and well...stethoscopes are a lot cheaper now than they were. Mmm...three size bell with no-chill faces plate for under $60, I'm impressed. But I liked my old pink one better.

So here's a problem: you want to allow your cat to get into your house whenever it wants, but you don't want to also let all the neighborhood cats come in as well, as they could do with a regular cat flap. The solution? Surgically embedding an RFID chip under the skin of your cat, of course.

That's how the SureFlap recognizes that the cat approaching is the one allowed inside. The RFID chip acts as a wireless key, opening the door for it when it gets close and locking up behind it. Sure, your cat probably won't enjoy going under the knife, but you'll enjoy not being surprised by a litter of some strange cat's kittens taking up residence in your kitchen.

SureFlap, via GeekAlerts

DVICE: SureFlap uses surgically-implanted RFID chips to let your cat inside

Baltimore will be the last 2008 book for Scifi/Fantasy Book Group. I will start right before Halloween and this looks like a great read for the spooky holiday. The meetup time will be November 26, 2008 starting @ 6:30.

Here is a brief review from Publishers Weekly:

Mignola (HellBoy) and Golden (The Myth Hunters) create a haunting allegory on the nature of war, fusing the poignancy of Hans Christian Anderson's The Steadfast Tin Soldier, the supernatural chills of Dracula and the horrors of WWI and the subsequent influenza epidemic. Years after Capt. (and Lord) Henry Baltimore is infected by a demonic vampire bat while wounded near the Ardennes forest, he summons three friends to a mysterious meeting. Demetrius Aischros is the merchant sea captain who had taken Baltimore home to Trevelyan Isle, where they found Baltimore's family dead and his wife resurrected as a vampire. Thomas Childress Jr. is a nobleman and deserter who learns about the vampire infestation from Baltimore, his childhood friend. Dr. Lemuel Rose is the surgeon who treated Baltimore's war injuries. Together they help Baltimore face a final showdown with the terrible Red King. Stark monochrome illustrations from Mignola enhance this dramatic tale of war and fear. (Sept.)
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.

Read the rest of this blog entry from Blog, I am your father:

I don’t think I’ve had one of those “YES!” moments in a while, but this is one of them. Everyones favorite Captain/Mutant/Actor has agreed to play a major role in the Dr. Who series.

Image Copyright 2008 News Group Newspapers Ltd

“Patrick’s role is still being finalised but the plan is for him to play a renegade Time Lord called the Meddling Monk, who was last seen in Doctor Who in the 1960s. The Doctor thought his entire race was wiped out and gets a huge surprise to find another member of his species.”

This will be awesome.

Picard To Be Time Lord « Blog, I am your father

[vodpod id=Groupvideo.1641476&w=425&h=350&fv=]

And for the spookable month of October,  Sci has transformed me into Zombie Nynex! o:
She eats Braiinn m00fins :3

But most gratifying of all, I can watch videos again. This thing plays them fast, and with great quality on its nineteen inch flatscreen monitor. I've never had a computer this nice and have become instantly spoiled by it. The old computer is still here in my office, and I am tempted to set it back up so I can take this one home with me. If I did that though, I probably wouldn't leave my apartment for a few days and would end up losing my job.

Since I can watch videos again, I've been watching the new season of Heroes. It's better than the last season (which, admittedly would not be hard to do) and I think probably even better than the first season was at this point. Oh I still have issues with it like the acting is still pretty bad--Ali Larter just annoys me more and more, the dude that plays Peter seems to think that acting means emulating Sylvester Stallone's sneer as imitated by Weird Al Yancovich in the hilarious UHF. The character of Maya is still a crybaby (sure she's pretty, but that will only take you so far when the only acting skill you possess is to stand there and look full lipped and weepy eyed), and Molhinder is still an idiot.

I'm mean seriously, injecting himself with the formula? Why did he all of a sudden want powers? And watching this, did anyone else think that the person who wrote Molhinder's power episode had watched Jeff Goldblum in The Fly one too many times, or was that just me?

Even Bennet has gotten a little stupider. He says to the Haitian (about Sylar) "I'm going to find his weakness and then kill him." Hello! The Haitian is standing right there. His power is to cancel the powers of others. Could it be anymore obvious what Bennet needs to do?

The spunky speedster Daphne is annoying too--why is it that since Buffy the Vampire Slayer all girls portrayed in action dramas on television have to be spunky and filled with attitude. I swear if she shakes her head while talking, or makes another pouty "hmph" I am going to scream.

Well, I guess Claire isn't filled with spunk and attitude, but she does whine a lot, and like Maya, looks like she is going to cry all of the time. And, I must admit, I had to laugh when I saw her in the future. The mascara and black leather outfit was soooo cliche that I couldn't stop laughing for about a minute.

At least the storyline is interesting, and I am glad to see that Mama Petrelli is the powers babyfactory that I thought she was. Sure, she may not be the mother of all of them, but Peter, Nathan, Gabriel. I bet there are others that we don't know about yet, like Elle and Hiro, for example.

I still like Ando, and have to ask myself why he still bothers with Hiro, who has become a grade A jerk and needs to go back to the jerkstore.

So I'll keep watching because it's getting cold here in Liberec and I'm reduced to reading memoirs (which I loathe). I really need to get to the library and check out their English section.

He has agreed to a major role in the Time Lord’s next series after teaming up with the Doctor David Tennant on stage.

The pair starred in a production of Hamlet in the summer. Patrick — Captain Jean-Luc Picard in Star Trek — has been offered a role in a two-parter involving the Daleks, set to be screened next year.

The new series will also see the return of classic alien enemies the Ice Warriors and the Zygons. Patrick, 68, is a big Doctor Who admirer and has spoken in the past of his desire to star in the show.

He said: “I have been a fan, actually yes, and I’m deeply dismayed that I was never asked to be in it. I think it’s a terrific series.” A source said: “Patrick and David are firm friends now, and want to work together again. They’ve got chemistry and that’s what Doctor Who is all about.

“Patrick’s role is still being finalised but the plan is for him to play a renegade Time Lord called the Meddling Monk, who was last seen in Doctor Who in the 1960s. The Doctor thought his entire race was wiped out and gets a huge surprise to find another member of his species.”

The Monk was%

via Star Trek hero Patrick Stewart to play Time Lord | The Sun |Showbiz|TV.

Things are different on Arbre. The planet certainly has had its periods of "intellectual darkness" - at least three of them; but Arbran repositories of knowledge were not religious institutions. Quite the opposite, in fact: communities of mathematicians, scientists, and scientist-philosopher - most of whom reject the concept of religion out of hand - have been responsible for keeping the flame of knowledge lit for almost 4000 Arbran years. Cloistered within the walls of their "maths," the brothers and sisters live, love, eat, think, and argue amongst themselves; opening their gates to the outside only once a year, decade, century, or millennium. One among thousands of fraas and suurs (brothers and sisters), eighteen-year-old Fraa Erasmus - "Raz" to his friends - is but a simple student of geometry and agriculture; the apprentice of old Orolo, a student of astronomy and viticulture (he's far better at the former than the latter, it is said). All that changes when Orolo is "thrown back" to the secular world in the rite of Anathem, a permanent expulsion from the mathic world reserved for the most severe violations of The Discipline.

But what did Orolo do to earn his fate? Raz thinks he knows - and this knowledge may prove his undoing as well. That's the least of his worries, however, for Arbre is about to be visited by an alien craft; and this first contact could well be the planet's last.

Thrust from the comfortable surroundings of his math into the seething, seedy world of the secular masses; Erasmus and his friends find themselves unprepared for the role of leadership. Yet this is precisely the role for which they have been called: theirs is a desperate, last-ditch effort to save Arbre from whoever's out there orbiting the planet - but first, Raz has an errand to run...

In an era in which speculative fiction authors crank out three, four, and even more volumes per series, Neal Stephenson's Anathem stands out by virtue of its singular nature: at nine hundred pages, it's a volume that lesser writers would have felt compelled to split into a trilogy - if for nothing else, for the resulting three paychecks instead of one. Like many a trilogy, it loosely follows the chronology of The Lord of the Rings: discovery of danger and formation of a "fellowship," a dangerous journey, and final confrontation. And yet Anathem is vastly different from the potboilers such fantasy seems to often produce. There's not a single sword; not a single sorcerer (although I could not read Orolo's name without envisioning Ian McKellar's bushy eyebrows...); no dragons, orcs, elves, or dwarfs - yet this is clearly a tale of epic proportions. Kudos to Stephenson (Snow Crash) for his ability to turn a rather hackneyed formula on its ear.

Kudos as well for his dry wit, having creating a world that's clearly modeled on our own. The Arbre beyond the walls of Raz's home math might well be another Vegas or Atlantic City: "an endless landscape of casinos and megastores that is plagued by recurring cycles of booms and busts, dark ages and renaissances, world wars and climate change." Beyond the walls of the math one finds religions (in the secular world?) squabbling over niggling differences in dogma, class warfare, racial tensions, and rampant illiteracy; all furthered by a constant barrage of information arriving through their "jeejahs," sort of a smartphone to end all smartphones. Some of the inhabitants might seem familiar to anyone who's been in a suburban mall of late:

"The current ...fashion was to wear a garment evolved from an athletic jersey (bright, with numerals on the back) but oversized, so that the shoulder seams hung around the elbows, and extremely long - descending all the way to the knee. The trousers were too long to be shorts and too short to be pants - they hung a hand's-breadth below the jersey but still exposed a few inches of chunky calf, plunging into enormous, thickly padded shoes. Headgear was a burnoose blazoned with beverage logos whose loose ends trailed down the back, and dark goggles strapped over that and never removed, even indoors.

"But it was no only clothing that set [them] apart, They had also adopted fashions in how they walked (a rolling, sauntering gait) and how they stood (a pose of exaggerated cool that somehow looked hostile to me)."

Stephenson probably had only to look out the window of his Seattle office to describe that fashion...

Like many a spec-fic writer, Stephenson created his own language for Anathem; a language he dutifully defines in a glossary and in "Dictionary" entries within the text (not unlike Asimov's chapter headings in the Foundation series, and a thousand other spec-fic books). Some are quite familiar - "the Reticulum" is a sort of wireless internet (which makes sense, since reticulum means "network). Some are amusing - theories of the Sconic school are named for a group of philosophers who showed up at a patron's house just in time to consume her daily batch of scones. Jeejah is obviously derived from "Geegaw" (something gaudy and useless - which says a lot about Stephenson's opinion of smartphones). At least the vocabulary is (for the most part) something about which English speakers can wrap their tongues.

But what of the plot? Yes, Anathem is a sort of amalgam of fantasy trilogy and scifi thriller, but is it worth all those 900 pages (a volume that, frankly, took me more than a week to wade through)? Sure, it has a little something in it for everyone (except fans of Britney or Miley, I suppose). Sure, it's chock full of fascinating (although sometimes overly pedantic) math, philosophy, and science; especially physics. But let's be honest - the middle third (the "journey") could have been omitted in its entirety and the beginning and the end are rather long, too. So it may be 900 pages long (890, if you want to be accurate), but perhaps 400 of those pages utterly failed to move the plot forward - they moved it sideways, instead.

And where have you heard of monastic orders maintaining science and technology in a post-apocalyptic world? Ummmm, A Canticle for Liebowitz, perhaps? Or the idea that the food and even air of one cosmos (dimension, whatever you want to call it) might not provide sustenance for natives of another? Try Roger Zelazny's Doorways in the Sand. So while Anathem clearly represents an enormous volume of work and Stephenson must be congratulated for avoiding the pitfalls of trilogy spec-fic, he likewise should be admonished by the Terran version of Arbre's Lorites: this is ground that's already been plowed, and plowed well.

Recommended only for those who are prepared to chew through nine hundred pages that move in fits and starts, with scattered flashes of brilliance.

: : : :

Rufus Wainwright singing Leonard Cohen's Halleluja:

[audio http://media.libsyn.com/media/freyburg/rfs103.mp3]

"Growing up brings a lot of new things including new responsibilities, new privileges -- and new superpowers? "Gathering Grace" is a fantasy set in modern times as Grace uncovers deeply held family secrets. Unknown relatives, the risks of her new abilities and how to use them responsibility, these are what Grace must deal with. But as all teenagers know, sometimes responsibilities aren't always followed and rules are sometimes broken. A coming of age tale set in the real world with a unique fantasy twist, "Gathering Grace" is very highly recommended to young adult fantasy readers everywhere."

Oh, yay! I feel like celebrating. I think I need to do a brand-new kind of happy dance. Glee!