You're the only one I ever believed in / the answer that could never be found . . .
I finally have a bit of time and energy to post my favorite books lists from last year (wanna do one for fiction and one for non-fiction), and I come to the conclusion that no one will want to read it. I have time to post other things that I meant to post, but I don't think anyone will want to read them, either. Clearly, I should go to sleep, get up, and post later when I feel more like it. But then Sasha will be on the computer, most likely, so here it is, below the cut so those who wish to can avoid it, maybe w/comments, maybe not, depending on how I feel while I'm writing it; which could change by the second. Oh--these are books I *read* last year; most of them came out in years previous.

Oh, on a happy note, we had snow yesterday morning, quite a lot, tho all was melted by mid-afternoon. And damn is it cold; teens last night and down in the teens again tonight. I'm not sure it had been below 20 before since we moved up here. (and that quote w/which I titled this entry has nothing to do w/anything; the song was on the radio and the line made me think of Sasha so I wrote it down, even if it doesn't really go w/the rest).



Non-fiction:

(1) The Earth Path, by Starhawk. A really great book on how to live in harmony w/the world and make meditative connections to the reality beneath mere appearances and also, how to appreciate the beetleness of a beetle, as well as the falconness of a falcon, etc.

(2) How the Right Stole the 2004 Election, by Mark Crispin Miller. Should be required reading for everyone who votes.

(3) The View From the Center of Everything. I can't remember the name of the writer. Or if I got the title right; could end w/"Center", or be "of the Universe" or some variation on this. I checked it out of the library. Anyway, really cool book that relates cosmology, dark matter, mythology, and our responsibility to the planet and each other.

(4) Chronos. See above, also checked out of library, also can't remember everything exactly. A meditation on the nature of time, how much we take for granted and how little we understand it, translated from the original French.

(5) Scar Tissue, by Anthony Kiedis. Ultra-cool and somewhat enlightening autobiography. Hordes of great stories.

Fiction:

(1) American Gods, by Neil Gaiman. The first 25 pages or so was the best opening of anything I've ever read, I think. Tho I felt almost more like I was reading Elmore Leonard than Gaiman, except Gaiman wrote Leonard better than EL ever did. (I very much like Elmore Leonard, btw; tends to write borderline-noir crime fiction, tho w/more humor than is usually in noir; tho not so much humor in this opening). Anyway, great book; great opening, great themes, great ending. Kinda bogged down in the middle, but the rest was so great that was easy to forgive. I wonder if he was deliberately making different parts of the book homages to the styles of different authors; still not sure about this. If anyone has read anything on this let me know.


(2) Sebastian by Anne Bishop is a beautifully lyrical evocation of the world of dreams and its inhabitants, more or less (tho has absolutely nothing to do w/Gaiman's sandman stuff), and how much of what we view as dark and evil is dark and good and necessary, or dark and neutral, and the need for balance, etc. Also, loved the color and plot and characters. I realize these ideas have all been explored before, but in general, this one worked from start to finish for me, if not quite as powerful as AG.

(3) Scott Westerfield's Uglies trilogy-- Uglies, Pretties, and Specials. Yeah, it's marketed as a juvenile, but I loved it anyway. Loved the characters, the writing, the scenes, the heart, the whole dystopian idea.

(4) Pattern Recognition by William Gibson has such an ungodly good first 100 pages, which gets so well at so many things, from the heart of advertising and marketing to thoughts on the heart of what intrigues us about mystery, but then becomes more of a standard thriller. Still a good thriller, and again the end somewhat makes up for the middle, but a letdown after the initial awe-inspiringness.

(5) Robin Hobb's Farseer trilogy. Incredibly beautiful, evocative, musical writing. My already great difficulty in remembering what I was gonna say about these things or coming up w/new things to say has just reached the point of impossibleness. So, um, it's good. Read it. Yeah.

(6) Passage, by Connie Willis. Thanks to Kyrialese for the recommendation. Wonderful book, but I'm usually more into writing styles that convey more personality or lyricism or tone or something; this is written more in a neutral tone. Still works, I just usually like things where there's more of a "voice" in the writing, if that makes any sense. Which sounds like an insult, and it isn't. I cried at several points in this. Part of it may be due to the subject matter (near death experiences) combined w/recent life (many friends and family have died in recent years, and I'm worried about others), but I would not cry at several points if something wasn't moving and well written. And a really, really interesting take on this concept--an idea that might actually be key to how this process really works, from a biological point of view. I keep thinking this and the Hobb books should be higher.

(7) Gardens of the Moon, by Steve Erickson. The first and thus far least problematic novel in a wonderfully imagined series that has four books out at the moment. I could go on about Erickson's virtues and flaws at great length, but again am suddenly struck unable to say anything worthwhile. Um, what I said about mileau and color in Sebastian is at least equally true here, and the characters and plot are both as multi-faceted as you're likely to come across. On the other hand, while this book doesn't offend me to the degree that some parts of the second and fourth in the series did (except they're all very different so can't be lumped together like the other series), and nothing bothered me conceptually like in the 3rd, the writing is more uneven than later, from a stylistic point of view. Great at times, awkward at others.

(8) Blood and Iron, by Elizabeth Bear. Already talked about this one a month or so ago, so in a nutshell--again w/the beautiful, lyrical writing, as I said about Hobb, tho Bear's writing is very different. Quite poetic, and the characters are fascinating, if a bit cold. The whole book is cold, tonally, but in a good way, the way that Faerie is supposed to be cold. Much harder to write something this way, and much less margin for error, than in more of a warm book, and alas the plot doesn't hold together at the end in a way that works for me. Still, ymmv, and just for the writing style/imagery etc of the first couple of hundred pages, well worth checking out.

(9) The Black Magician Trilogy by Trudi Canavan. Not nearly as ambitious as most of the works above, it's still a truly neat little story, and in one sense the opposite of Bear's book, in that it is totally warm, and everything holds together. Sorta Harry Potter-ish except w/a girl protagonist and set in a world not so similar to our own, or at least not our own in modern times. Fun, well-written, nicely plotted; likable heroine, interesting other characters, entertaining, etc. And I really don't mean to damn w/faint praise, cause I really liked these books.

Not ranked but one of the top 10 cause I don't know what to do w/it:

Daughter of the Blood, by Anne Bishop. Not sure if I should recommend this to anyone. All sorts of potentially triggering stuff. Still not entirely sure what I think of it. The first of a trilogy, and The Black Jewels Trilogy is probably one of those series I'll want to count as one book, but this is the only one I've finished and it certainly was one of the ten best books I read last year . . . I'm inclined to passionately love it (except I devoutly wish the ending had been slightly different) but it walks a knife edge w/regards to subject matter, and the following books could still change my mind. In the meantime, love the characters, love the plot, love the descriptions of rage that so many of the characters feel that is so identical to the way I feel lots of times. Sartorias asked in her journal, a while back, whether it was emotional or intellectual content that made one want to re-read, and this book kinda answers that for me. Things have to be adequate intellectually, but emotions are the key, and Bishop yanks them hither and yon w/consumate skill, and (barely) gets away w/it. I think.