Wednesday, May 17, 2017

Reading Things

I avoid a lot of the political coverage these days, because I value my sanity, but this morning I felt up to reading some of the Globe's coverage of the latest fiascoes, and was much struck by this sentence, about how the Republicans feel as though:
...if senators went out on a limb to defend Trump, the president might just saw off the branch.
Yeah, probably. I just keep shaking my head over the situation. I mean, what he said in a speech today, ""No politician in history — and I say this with great surety — has been treated worse or more unfairly,""--and no doubt he does say it with great surety, but that doesn't make it true!

Sigh.

In a happier reading moment, elsewhere I came across a really lovely word that was new to me:
 "He looked tired; etiolated rather than invigorated by his walk."
Etiolated! I love it.

I read a book last year that frustrated me by ending on a heavy-handed "oops, no resolution now, keep reading the series!" and aggravatingly enough, it happened again this weekend. Different author, even; last year was The Ill-Made Mute, earning Cecilia Dart Thornton a place on my Don't Read Again author list, and this time, it was The Knife of Never Letting Go, by Patrick Ness.

More than once while I was reading it, I thought about whether I really wanted to go on, but ... it was an interesting enough conceit that I wanted to know what happened. I was aware that it was the first book of a series, so I wasn't expecting every little thing to be neatly tied up at the end, but it was one of those stories where things just keep going wrong, and getting worse, and you think they might make it, and then maybe they won't, and then they do except that "making it" is completely redefined: they got where they were trying to go, yes, but it was to find the opposite of help there, and boom, the book was over. It just ticked me off.

And the other thing annoying me now is my ankle; remember that I twisted it last week? Well, the damned thing just won't go back to normal. I've tried taking it easy, I've tried moving around normally, but no matter what, it just isn't cooperating. Last night I did go to swimming, though I modified motions as necessary, and it wasn't worse after, though it was a little swollen. This morning the swelling was gone, but tonight it's back. Ibuprofen helps with the aching, and I ice it now and then, but geez, ankle, pull yourself together already! It won't be warm for long, I want to go outside, but hobbling makes it less fun.

1 comment:

  1. I'm with you on books like that. I think it is lazy writing. If the only way they can keep you interested is with cliff hangers they're not doing it right.

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