Shroud, by Adrian Tchaikovsky
2025-06-20 10:18![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rachelmanija
While on a commercial expedition, an unexpected accident causes Mai, an engineer, and Juna, an HR person, to crash-land on a pitch-black planet called Shroud. They can't get out of their escape pod because the air is corrosive and unbreathable, and they can't call for help. Their only hope is to use the pod's walker system to trek all the way across the planet... which turns out to be absolutely teeming with extremely weird life, none of which can see, all of which communicates via electromagnetic signals, most of which constructs exoskeletons for itself with organic materials, and some of which is extremely large.
As readers, we learn very early on that at least some of the life on Shroud is intelligent. But Juna and Mai don't know that, the intelligent Shroud beings don't know that humans are intelligent, and human and Shroud life is so different that it makes perfect sense that they can't tell. As Juna and Mai make their probably-doomed expedition across Shroud, they're accompanied by curious Shroud beings, frequently attacked by other Shroud creatures, face some of the most daunting terrain imaginable, and slowly begin to learn the truth about Shroud. But even if they succeed in rescuing themselves, the predatory capitalist company that sent them on their expedition on the first place is determined to strip Shroud for materials, and doesn't care if its indigenous life is intelligent or not.
This is possibly the best first contact novel I've ever read. It's the flip side of Alien Clay, which was 70% depressing capitalist dystopia and 30% cool aliens. Shroud is 10% depressing capitalist dystopia and 90% cool aliens - or rather, 90% cool aliens and humans interacting with cool aliens. It's a marvelous alien travelogue, it has so many jaw-dropping moments, and it's very thematically unified and neatly plotted. The climax is absolutely killer.
The characterization is sketchy but sufficient. The ending is a little abrupt, but you can easily extrapolate what happens from there, and it's VERY satisfying. As far as I know this is a standalone, but I would certainly enjoy a sequel if Tchaikovsky decided to write one.
My absolute favorite moment, which was something you can only do in science fiction, is a great big spoiler.
( Read more... )Elizabeth I's most expensive project
2025-06-20 15:57shewhomustWe looked at the tide tables, and checked plans, and decided that ywaterday was the day to visit Berwick, so that's what we did, leaving the island late morning, as soon as the causeway opened. At the last minute we decided to park up by the Barracks, which we have not visited recently. We didn't visit them yesterday either, as they are undergoing transformation into a thriving cultural hub, but on our way there we had passed the Visitor Centre. This turned out to be a converted church, which you enter, through a welcoming café and postcards space: the main body of the church contains a magnificently random display of Stuff, local regimental memorabilia, Finds of all ages fished out of the Tweed, a banner stitched by volunteers to commemmorate the thousandth anniversary of the Tweed being designated as the border between England and Scotland (not that it is, in Berwick, but never mind). Upstairs in the gallery there is a video Berwick, a town like no other: I might have snarked, because surely no town is quite like any other? But it was quite entertaining, and full of information, and we learned that the ramparts of Berwick were the greatest expenditure of Elizabeth's reign, and that Berwick has massive ice houses (for storing the ice which allowed fresh salmon to be shipped to London, and that the Parish church was one of only two built under the Protectorate...
I'd like better references for that assertion: this article calls it "a rare example" and this Guardian article muses that "Neither Cromwell nor his captains went in for church building, which is odd given the religious nature of the Commonwealth..." One way and another, we thought the church would be worth a visit. It is surrounded by greenery, shaded by trees and nestled into those expensive ramparts, so there was no way I could photograph the exterior, but fortunately there is a clear image of the church itself at the centre of this stained glass window:
nstalled to celebrate the millennium, the most recent addition to an interior which originally had no coloured glass at all, plain within as it was plain without. The window design, by Ann Sotheran majors on a Celtic knot motif, flanked by those two Celtic saints, Columa (standing on the island of Iona) and Aidan (on the more distinctive outline of Lindisfarne).
We headed into the town in search of lunch, and found a café which appears to be called Thistle Do Nicely, but don't be put off, it did indeed do nicely. By the time we had lunched, our parking was about to run out, so we agreed thatdurham_rambler should relocate to the other car park, while I meandered down the hill. I thought I was being very abstemious, visiting only one gift shop plus a branch of W.H.Smith which was having a clearance sale (I bought some pens and a newspaper) but by the time I reached Bridge Street he was not sitting on the convenient bench, checking his e-mails, he was pacing up and down the street waiting for me. We had time for a quick visit to the Green Shop and to Slightly Foxed (one of those really lovely bookshops from which I nevertheless find it difficult to buy anything) and then came home via Majestic (for wine, diappointing but not disastrous) and Morrison (for surprisingly good bread).
D. was cooking, and there were guests, and it was all very convivial. And tonight we eat at the crown and Anchor, with even more guests and ridiculously early. We'll see how that goes.
I'd like better references for that assertion: this article calls it "a rare example" and this Guardian article muses that "Neither Cromwell nor his captains went in for church building, which is odd given the religious nature of the Commonwealth..." One way and another, we thought the church would be worth a visit. It is surrounded by greenery, shaded by trees and nestled into those expensive ramparts, so there was no way I could photograph the exterior, but fortunately there is a clear image of the church itself at the centre of this stained glass window:
nstalled to celebrate the millennium, the most recent addition to an interior which originally had no coloured glass at all, plain within as it was plain without. The window design, by Ann Sotheran majors on a Celtic knot motif, flanked by those two Celtic saints, Columa (standing on the island of Iona) and Aidan (on the more distinctive outline of Lindisfarne).
We headed into the town in search of lunch, and found a café which appears to be called Thistle Do Nicely, but don't be put off, it did indeed do nicely. By the time we had lunched, our parking was about to run out, so we agreed that
durham_rambler should relocate to the other car park, while I meandered down the hill. I thought I was being very abstemious, visiting only one gift shop plus a branch of W.H.Smith which was having a clearance sale (I bought some pens and a newspaper) but by the time I reached Bridge Street he was not sitting on the convenient bench, checking his e-mails, he was pacing up and down the street waiting for me. We had time for a quick visit to the Green Shop and to Slightly Foxed (one of those really lovely bookshops from which I nevertheless find it difficult to buy anything) and then came home via Majestic (for wine, diappointing but not disastrous) and Morrison (for surprisingly good bread).D. was cooking, and there were guests, and it was all very convivial. And tonight we eat at the crown and Anchor, with even more guests and ridiculously early. We'll see how that goes.
It's time for some NYC-picking!
2025-06-23 11:05conulyNow, I've already told you about the alleys (no alleys in Manhattan) and right on red (none of that either), and now it's time for - garbage.
Since the 1990s it's been the law that residential garbage in NYC has to have the recyclables sorted out. And since this year we also have to separate out the compost, though weirdly they only pick that up once a week, I've complained about this. It's completely backwards.
Anyway, as I said, it's been the law since the 90s that you can't put your cans and bottles in with your regular trash. Do people always follow that law? Oh, heck no. But if you don't and the city catches you at it they'll give you a $300 ticket, and if you don't pay they put a lien on the house. So even if you don't care, your landlord might, and if they care and perhaps only have one tenant at that location you can bet they won't just eat the cost.
And if your protagonist is even minimally conscientious she'll at least glance around for a recycle bin before tossing her water bottle in with the regular trash.
(As a reference here, our terrible neighbors, who have had sanitation and once the fire department called on them multiple times due to the trash they pile up in their yard, still separate out the bottles and cans from the regular trash. Though in their case they may somewhat optimistically believe they'll get around to redeeming them one of these days, honestly, who knows how they think.)
This rant is courtesy of Elsbeth, which Jenn has been watching. Sure, Elsbeth is a snoop and the best way to dispose of several bushels worth of murderous apple pulp was probably to flush it, but all the same - it's weird that such a generally responsible character goes straightaway to throw out her water bottle in the general trash in somebody's house without at least checking that there's no recycle bin.
Since the 1990s it's been the law that residential garbage in NYC has to have the recyclables sorted out. And since this year we also have to separate out the compost, though weirdly they only pick that up once a week, I've complained about this. It's completely backwards.
Anyway, as I said, it's been the law since the 90s that you can't put your cans and bottles in with your regular trash. Do people always follow that law? Oh, heck no. But if you don't and the city catches you at it they'll give you a $300 ticket, and if you don't pay they put a lien on the house. So even if you don't care, your landlord might, and if they care and perhaps only have one tenant at that location you can bet they won't just eat the cost.
And if your protagonist is even minimally conscientious she'll at least glance around for a recycle bin before tossing her water bottle in with the regular trash.
(As a reference here, our terrible neighbors, who have had sanitation and once the fire department called on them multiple times due to the trash they pile up in their yard, still separate out the bottles and cans from the regular trash. Though in their case they may somewhat optimistically believe they'll get around to redeeming them one of these days, honestly, who knows how they think.)
This rant is courtesy of Elsbeth, which Jenn has been watching. Sure, Elsbeth is a snoop and the best way to dispose of several bushels worth of murderous apple pulp was probably to flush it, but all the same - it's weird that such a generally responsible character goes straightaway to throw out her water bottle in the general trash in somebody's house without at least checking that there's no recycle bin.
If I were diligent, how much would I have learned?
2025-06-20 07:35lauradi7dwFive years ago I started learning Hangul, to sound out the names on baseball jerseys (and other things)
https://lauradi7dw.dreamwidth.org/612953.html
I am half-watching a game now (Samsung Lions vs Lotte Giants). I can read the names on the jerseys. Without understanding most of the words, I can tell that the play by play people are using the highest formality level (news anchors do that too). If I had studied (really paying attention) half an hour a day, I'd be at 900 hours, almost 10% of the totally made up 10,000 hours one needs to be really good at something.
But that doesn't seem to be me. Still, I have a plan. Before I go back for another trip to Korea, I will study harder, and hike more, and maybe buy a janggu so I can sporadically practice at home.
Meanwhile, I spent parts of two days holding babies after many years of having not done so at all, even other people's children. Now I feel odd not holding one. I'll visit again in a week or two.
https://lauradi7dw.dreamwidth.org/612953.html
I am half-watching a game now (Samsung Lions vs Lotte Giants). I can read the names on the jerseys. Without understanding most of the words, I can tell that the play by play people are using the highest formality level (news anchors do that too). If I had studied (really paying attention) half an hour a day, I'd be at 900 hours, almost 10% of the totally made up 10,000 hours one needs to be really good at something.
But that doesn't seem to be me. Still, I have a plan. Before I go back for another trip to Korea, I will study harder, and hike more, and maybe buy a janggu so I can sporadically practice at home.
Meanwhile, I spent parts of two days holding babies after many years of having not done so at all, even other people's children. Now I feel odd not holding one. I'll visit again in a week or two.
2025/095: Night and Day in Misery — Catriona Ward
2025-06-20 12:37tamaranth2025/095: Night and Day in Misery — Catriona Ward
...she understands, now, that she has not been alone these eight years, not really. She carries all that she is, and has been, within her. Stella gasps with the mercy and the cruelty of it all. [loc. 405]
Short story, part of Amazon's 'Shivers' collection: read because Catriona Ward is a favourite author and it's too long since her last novel.
Stella is visiting the motel where her husband Frank and son Sam stayed eight years ago, the night before they died when Frank's car crashed off a suspension bridge and into a river. Sam would be ten now. Stella's life has frozen: she's estranged from her mother (who advised her to leave Frank) and finds it hard to connect with her sister Dina. She blames herself for Frank and Sam's death, and just wants to be with Sam again. She writes a farewell letter and falls asleep: but dreams...
Too short, but very atmospheric: I listened to the audiobook, which was read slightly too dramatically for my taste, but still good. The prose is lovely and the story, though simple, feels organic and rounded.
podcast friday
2025-06-20 06:49sabotabby Listen this is the best episode of a podcast you'll listen to all week. Maybe ever. In this podcast lies the seed of all other podcasts.
The Aurora-nominated podcast Wizards & Spaceships episode "The Ur-Pisode: The Queer Heart of The Epic of Gilgamesh, ft. Julian Gunn" is about the Epic of Gilgamesh (obviously), why it still matters after 4000 years, and most importantly, why Tablet XII is canon despite what homophobic translators have done with it over the past century or so. It's so good you guys. It makes me happy every time I listen to it.radiantfracture is just one of the most brilliant people I know and hearing him geek out about this is a delight you won't want to miss.
The Aurora-nominated podcast Wizards & Spaceships episode "The Ur-Pisode: The Queer Heart of The Epic of Gilgamesh, ft. Julian Gunn" is about the Epic of Gilgamesh (obviously), why it still matters after 4000 years, and most importantly, why Tablet XII is canon despite what homophobic translators have done with it over the past century or so. It's so good you guys. It makes me happy every time I listen to it.
radiantfracture is just one of the most brilliant people I know and hearing him geek out about this is a delight you won't want to miss.After 30 Years
2025-06-20 08:27poliphilo We hadn't seen Joyce in something like 30 years. No problem. It could have been 30 minutes. We just carried on as we always have done. Friendship never ends (that's Yeats again) or as I said to her (and it's one of my favourite things to say) "Time is an illusion."
She's been visiting Eastbourne with a bunch of "wrinklies" (her word) on a coach holiday. Yesterday she spent the morning with us at the Meeting House. Our Quakers were lovely with her. They're a friendly crowd.
She's had good weather for it. Temperatures in the mid 20s.
She's been visiting Eastbourne with a bunch of "wrinklies" (her word) on a coach holiday. Yesterday she spent the morning with us at the Meeting House. Our Quakers were lovely with her. They're a friendly crowd.
She's had good weather for it. Temperatures in the mid 20s.
WTF even is this?
2025-06-22 00:22conuly"Square children's book with hex code 03fcdf for the covers"
Why. Just. Why...? Seriously, who thinks that a hex code is a better description than the name of the color in English?
(This time, I wasn't paraphrasing. I usually do, but....)
*****************
( Read more... )
Why. Just. Why...? Seriously, who thinks that a hex code is a better description than the name of the color in English?
(This time, I wasn't paraphrasing. I usually do, but....)
( Read more... )lucky!
2025-06-19 22:16gullyfoylePicture taken from our dining room window a little while ago. We had a line of strong storms come through. This was the biggest oak tree in the back yard, easily 3 or 4 feet across. It demolished a couple of substantial pines too as well as a big section of fence. But no damage to house, people, or domesticated animals. That was the tree where I once saw a flying squirrel, the only time I've ever seen one. The deck and house are gonna be getting a lot more sun. The tree fell directly away from the house, hence: lucky! But I know of at least one house in the neighborhood that suffered a hole in the roof.
conulyI noticed something I didn't notice before about Ascencia. ( Read more... )
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( Read more... )
( Read more... )( Read more... )plants and paper
2025-06-19 19:55rocksinformationI.
Plants creep me out, but just like, conceptually. You've got this thing just sitting there, (seemingly) not doing much of anything, in some dirt in a pot or in the ground, with some water and sunlight, all pretty normal stuff. So you leave it there and two weeks later there's... more of it. Where did it come from? Why is it bigger? It didn't have that many leaves when I first got it. Pretty weird if you ask me.
II.
I was really into origami as a kid. I had this book that had a variety of different figures at various difficulty levels, and the instructions were all really clear and with good, illustrative photos. Later on in life I tried to look up the book and the author based on the scant information I could recall... His first name was Roy, or something similar, I think? And one of his other books that I definitely owned more recently was like a subset of the original book I had from him, that was called "Action Origami", with more playful and motion-oriented projects. Well, based on just that, I did find the guy. His name was Rick Beech and he came down with psychosis, antagonized and isolated everyone around him, and finally, killed himself in 2012. That was all kind of shocking for me to learn. I guess I was expecting something like, continued doing origami work and lived a peaceful normal life.
Plants creep me out, but just like, conceptually. You've got this thing just sitting there, (seemingly) not doing much of anything, in some dirt in a pot or in the ground, with some water and sunlight, all pretty normal stuff. So you leave it there and two weeks later there's... more of it. Where did it come from? Why is it bigger? It didn't have that many leaves when I first got it. Pretty weird if you ask me.
II.
I was really into origami as a kid. I had this book that had a variety of different figures at various difficulty levels, and the instructions were all really clear and with good, illustrative photos. Later on in life I tried to look up the book and the author based on the scant information I could recall... His first name was Roy, or something similar, I think? And one of his other books that I definitely owned more recently was like a subset of the original book I had from him, that was called "Action Origami", with more playful and motion-oriented projects. Well, based on just that, I did find the guy. His name was Rick Beech and he came down with psychosis, antagonized and isolated everyone around him, and finally, killed himself in 2012. That was all kind of shocking for me to learn. I guess I was expecting something like, continued doing origami work and lived a peaceful normal life.
thursday reads and things
2025-06-19 16:30isisWhat I recently abandoned reading:
I got just over halfway through Iron Widow by Xiran Jay Zhao before deciding that YA mecha is not my thing, even when it's a YA mecha AU of Chinese history. I think I'd rather read an actual historical novel or even nonfiction about Wu Zetian, who seems to have been an impressive-as-hell woman. (I will take recommendations!)
What I'm reading now:
Lamentation, the 6th Shardlake book by C. J. Sansom. (An actual historical novel! 😁)
What I recently finished watching:
S2 of Andor, which as I said, weirdly ironic to be watching as we grapple with our own ascendant Evil Empire. The pacing of this season was strange, big time-skips and characters that had seemed important in S1 (or in early episodes of S2) disappearing completely, or reappearing briefly only to be killed. I was expecting more about Mon Mothma's family, after all the screentime lavished on the wedding and her sort-of-blackmail situation. I was also expecting more of a resolution, though that's probably because I only vaguely remember Rogue One, so a lot of the breadcrumbs were, "wait, who was that again?" instead of, "aha!" for me. But I liked Kleya a whole lot, and also the snarky ex-Empire droid, and some of the spycraft bits were fun.
What I'm watching now:
We are giving American Primeval a try, despite it probably being on the violent/gory side for our tastes. We're two episodes in, and - I immediately recognized Shorty Bowlegs from the most recent season of Dark Winds! (Derek Hinkey, playing Red Feather.) Also, there is a local(ish) woman in it, Nanabah Grace from Cortez just down the road, who plays Kuttaambo'i. An article about her in the local newspaper was the way I first heard of this series, actually.
I'm enjoying the historical stuff; it's set during the Mormon War, which I actually researched a bit for my Yuletide fic, the premise of which was that the main reason that Deseret became an independent republic in the alt-history of Francis Spufford's Cahokia Jazz was that President Buchanan backed down in the face of united Mormons and natives, as both religion and respect for the tribes were stronger in that universe's US. I also like seeing the Old West, even though it was all filmed in New Mexico pretending to be Wyoming, although I'm getting a bit tired of the washed-out sepia filter.
What I recently finished playing:
Okay, not quite finished, but I have completed the last major quest in Mass Effect: Andromeda, so it's basically over. (I mean, the credits rolled! Therefore, it's over!) I know that Andromeda is considered ME's poor stepchild, but - I really enjoyed it. The "major threat to the world as we know it!!1!!one!" of the main trilogy is such a staple plotline of video games like this that I appreciated the "survive, explore, and (hopefully) thrive in a NEW UNIVERSE (and also defeat the major threat to the world as we know it)" plotline for its novelty. I thought the structure of quests opening new planets and objectives in a rough but not strict order worked well, and I really liked that most (maybe all?) decisions are not hugely critical, so you don't doom yourself to a bad ending by choosing X instead of Y. I did check the wiki a few times when I was nervous about things, but pretty much none of these decisions made any real difference, which meant I was free to actually role-play as "what WOULD (me as) Sara Ryder do?" and I find that much more relaxing.
I wasn't quite completionist - I didn't do all the fetch quest type quests, and I didn't do one vault (Elaaden, which I might go back and do), but I did pretty much everything else. I liked the glyph puzzles, and I hated the Architects, ugh. I played mostly as what in the main trilogy would be Infiltrator (combat + tech). I romanced Liam (after a fling with Peebee). It was fun!
What I'm playing next:
I think I will try some shorter games; I got Lorelei and the Laser Eyes a while back because a friend recommended it, and Skabma - Snowfall from a recent deal, because it looked pretty. I might try Baldur's Gate 3 again - I never managed to get into it and found it frustrating and annoying. Eventually I plan to get Dragon Age: The Veilguard, and also probably Clair Obscur: Expedition 33, which I've heard good things about.
(Or sell me on your favorite adventure game!)
I got just over halfway through Iron Widow by Xiran Jay Zhao before deciding that YA mecha is not my thing, even when it's a YA mecha AU of Chinese history. I think I'd rather read an actual historical novel or even nonfiction about Wu Zetian, who seems to have been an impressive-as-hell woman. (I will take recommendations!)
What I'm reading now:
Lamentation, the 6th Shardlake book by C. J. Sansom. (An actual historical novel! 😁)
What I recently finished watching:
S2 of Andor, which as I said, weirdly ironic to be watching as we grapple with our own ascendant Evil Empire. The pacing of this season was strange, big time-skips and characters that had seemed important in S1 (or in early episodes of S2) disappearing completely, or reappearing briefly only to be killed. I was expecting more about Mon Mothma's family, after all the screentime lavished on the wedding and her sort-of-blackmail situation. I was also expecting more of a resolution, though that's probably because I only vaguely remember Rogue One, so a lot of the breadcrumbs were, "wait, who was that again?" instead of, "aha!" for me. But I liked Kleya a whole lot, and also the snarky ex-Empire droid, and some of the spycraft bits were fun.
What I'm watching now:
We are giving American Primeval a try, despite it probably being on the violent/gory side for our tastes. We're two episodes in, and - I immediately recognized Shorty Bowlegs from the most recent season of Dark Winds! (Derek Hinkey, playing Red Feather.) Also, there is a local(ish) woman in it, Nanabah Grace from Cortez just down the road, who plays Kuttaambo'i. An article about her in the local newspaper was the way I first heard of this series, actually.
I'm enjoying the historical stuff; it's set during the Mormon War, which I actually researched a bit for my Yuletide fic, the premise of which was that the main reason that Deseret became an independent republic in the alt-history of Francis Spufford's Cahokia Jazz was that President Buchanan backed down in the face of united Mormons and natives, as both religion and respect for the tribes were stronger in that universe's US. I also like seeing the Old West, even though it was all filmed in New Mexico pretending to be Wyoming, although I'm getting a bit tired of the washed-out sepia filter.
What I recently finished playing:
Okay, not quite finished, but I have completed the last major quest in Mass Effect: Andromeda, so it's basically over. (I mean, the credits rolled! Therefore, it's over!) I know that Andromeda is considered ME's poor stepchild, but - I really enjoyed it. The "major threat to the world as we know it!!1!!one!" of the main trilogy is such a staple plotline of video games like this that I appreciated the "survive, explore, and (hopefully) thrive in a NEW UNIVERSE (and also defeat the major threat to the world as we know it)" plotline for its novelty. I thought the structure of quests opening new planets and objectives in a rough but not strict order worked well, and I really liked that most (maybe all?) decisions are not hugely critical, so you don't doom yourself to a bad ending by choosing X instead of Y. I did check the wiki a few times when I was nervous about things, but pretty much none of these decisions made any real difference, which meant I was free to actually role-play as "what WOULD (me as) Sara Ryder do?" and I find that much more relaxing.
I wasn't quite completionist - I didn't do all the fetch quest type quests, and I didn't do one vault (Elaaden, which I might go back and do), but I did pretty much everything else. I liked the glyph puzzles, and I hated the Architects, ugh. I played mostly as what in the main trilogy would be Infiltrator (combat + tech). I romanced Liam (after a fling with Peebee). It was fun!
What I'm playing next:
I think I will try some shorter games; I got Lorelei and the Laser Eyes a while back because a friend recommended it, and Skabma - Snowfall from a recent deal, because it looked pretty. I might try Baldur's Gate 3 again - I never managed to get into it and found it frustrating and annoying. Eventually I plan to get Dragon Age: The Veilguard, and also probably Clair Obscur: Expedition 33, which I've heard good things about.
(Or sell me on your favorite adventure game!)
infinite punchlines from LearnedLeague's Best Worst Answers
2025-06-19 16:06jesse_the_kI always enjoy the wide variety of postcards which appear regularly from fflo. Tuesday, fflo posted about the "Best Wrong Answers" to LearnedLeague. These are a series of punchline-worthy responses to Jeopardy!-style questions. For example:
In photography, the overall brightness of an image is determined by the "exposure triangle" of aperture, shutter speed, and a third factor which is a measure of the sensitivity of the camera's sensor (or the film) to light. This third factor is known as what?
- REMEMBERING TO TAKE THE LENS CAP OFF
Even though I got online before the WWW, I’d never heard of LearnedLeague, which is a very dedicated group of trivia fiends. Here’s what I found:
Like any tight-knit community, there’s a ton of jargon. Participants are called LLamas (the double L matching Learned League). Membership is by invite only, though there is some public content at
LearnedLeague.com
Some of the world-readable "Best Worst Answer" tallies follow the URL pattern
https://learnedleague.com/hist/awards/100.php
Where 100 references the season—I had some fun plugging in random numbers.
From season 97:
A Wind in the Door (1973), A Swiftly Tilting Planet (1978), and Many Waters (1986) continue the story first told by author Madeleine L'Engle in what 1962 novel?
- 3 REASONS TO HAVE HOMEOWNERS INSURANCE
Public, unofficial Learned League groups on Reddit and Facebook. More fun to be had from grazing the #BestWrongAnswers tag on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/hashtag/bestwronganswers
I'm back.
2025-06-19 13:13sartoriasPlease forgive mush-mindedness; I'm three days out of the hospital and it's taking time for the simplest thoughts to come back on line.
Scintillation was wonderful, as always. And so was Fourth Street Fantasy Convention--what little I saw of it. No fault whatsoever to the con. All fault is due to the trash human in front of me in a very crowded assisted seating area, who coughed and hacked for the entire eight hour ride, refusing to put on a mask. "It's not a rule! And masks are all political anyway!"
By the next night I had a high temp, joints with ice picks stabbing them, skin like the worst sunburn ever. So I missed a lot, but managed to get to some programming including my panels. And I almost made it, tho by then I hadn't eaten for four days, and drunk only sips of water, which tasted terrible, like rusty pipes.
I was moderating my last panel, and I thought it was going okay when we opened to Qs from the audience and I realized that everyone was curiously black-and-white, then the next thing I knew, I was lying on the ground, surrounded by voices.
Here's where perceptions get kind of surreal. I slowly became aware that someone was stroking my arm. I've always known that Marissa L has an infinite capacity for genuine empathy, but I understood it was real. That empathy convey through the slow, reassuring touch, even though when she murmured "non-responsive."
Oh dear. I was not doing my bit! Worse, I'd totally spoiled the panel, yet here I was having somehow floated gently to the ground. I had to get up! Return to my room. Rest! Apologize to everyone for my dumbass move! Yet it felt so much better to lie there, and let trusted voices do whatever they were doing. So reassuring.
I knew those voices. I trusted them. Marissa, who seemed genuinely pleased that I was responsive after all, but she kept up her reassuring touch. (I do know the difference. I've had to drop my head between my knees a few times at distressing moments, and this one specific time, a person I'd known since college kept pawing me, the angle changing in the direction of their voice, as if they were busy looking around the room)
Then E Bear asked for my phone code, and I knew that voice, it's Bear, of course she must need my phone. I trust Bear. Then came the questions as I began to rouse a bit. Scott L, long-serving firefighter and fully trained EMP started what my spouse (who was a volunteer fireman for 20 years, and worked alongside EMTs) called the litany. Scott's strong, clear voice foghorned something much like, "Sherwood, I hate to do this to you, but what asshole is currently infesting the White House?"
And I laughed. I don't know if the laughter got past my lips, but it's strange how humor--laughter--can rouse one. I muttered, "Yesterday was NO KINGS DAY."
Then it seemed they wanted to send me off to emergency services; there was talk, then a fourth trusted voice, belonging to Beth F, insisted that it was not a good idea to be sending me off without anyone knowing where. She informed the company that she was a Registered Nurse and this was SOP, or the like. Beth's on the team, I thought.
Shortly thereafter they got my wreck of a bod onto the conveyance and I was in for an ambulance ride. It was beautiful teamwork--cons these days have security teams, and here I was proof that their protocols were functioning swiftly and smoothly, which would permit them to pivot straight back to con stuff.
While I was in for a wad of tests. So many tests. I soon had two IVS going, one in each elbow.
Presently the doc came in and said that I had an acute case of influenza, compounded by severe dehydration. Beth F heroically came to spring me, and saw me to my room, promising me a backup call the following morning.
Another perceptual eddy: I thought, wrongly, I'd wafted quietly and softly to the floor. Maybe even discreetly. Ha Ha. When I stripped out of my influenza clothes I discovered gigantic bruises in weird places--the entire top of one foot is discolored, another baseball-sized bruise on one calf, and so one. I began to suspect that I had catapulted myself whammo-flat with all the grace of a stevedore hauling a sack of spuds.
The following days I slept and slept, forcing a few bites of salad and oatmeal. I have zero stamina, must work on that, but at least I am home, and I guess all that unwanted experience can sink into the subconscious quagmire.
Scintillation was wonderful, as always. And so was Fourth Street Fantasy Convention--what little I saw of it. No fault whatsoever to the con. All fault is due to the trash human in front of me in a very crowded assisted seating area, who coughed and hacked for the entire eight hour ride, refusing to put on a mask. "It's not a rule! And masks are all political anyway!"
By the next night I had a high temp, joints with ice picks stabbing them, skin like the worst sunburn ever. So I missed a lot, but managed to get to some programming including my panels. And I almost made it, tho by then I hadn't eaten for four days, and drunk only sips of water, which tasted terrible, like rusty pipes.
I was moderating my last panel, and I thought it was going okay when we opened to Qs from the audience and I realized that everyone was curiously black-and-white, then the next thing I knew, I was lying on the ground, surrounded by voices.
Here's where perceptions get kind of surreal. I slowly became aware that someone was stroking my arm. I've always known that Marissa L has an infinite capacity for genuine empathy, but I understood it was real. That empathy convey through the slow, reassuring touch, even though when she murmured "non-responsive."
Oh dear. I was not doing my bit! Worse, I'd totally spoiled the panel, yet here I was having somehow floated gently to the ground. I had to get up! Return to my room. Rest! Apologize to everyone for my dumbass move! Yet it felt so much better to lie there, and let trusted voices do whatever they were doing. So reassuring.
I knew those voices. I trusted them. Marissa, who seemed genuinely pleased that I was responsive after all, but she kept up her reassuring touch. (I do know the difference. I've had to drop my head between my knees a few times at distressing moments, and this one specific time, a person I'd known since college kept pawing me, the angle changing in the direction of their voice, as if they were busy looking around the room)
Then E Bear asked for my phone code, and I knew that voice, it's Bear, of course she must need my phone. I trust Bear. Then came the questions as I began to rouse a bit. Scott L, long-serving firefighter and fully trained EMP started what my spouse (who was a volunteer fireman for 20 years, and worked alongside EMTs) called the litany. Scott's strong, clear voice foghorned something much like, "Sherwood, I hate to do this to you, but what asshole is currently infesting the White House?"
And I laughed. I don't know if the laughter got past my lips, but it's strange how humor--laughter--can rouse one. I muttered, "Yesterday was NO KINGS DAY."
Then it seemed they wanted to send me off to emergency services; there was talk, then a fourth trusted voice, belonging to Beth F, insisted that it was not a good idea to be sending me off without anyone knowing where. She informed the company that she was a Registered Nurse and this was SOP, or the like. Beth's on the team, I thought.
Shortly thereafter they got my wreck of a bod onto the conveyance and I was in for an ambulance ride. It was beautiful teamwork--cons these days have security teams, and here I was proof that their protocols were functioning swiftly and smoothly, which would permit them to pivot straight back to con stuff.
While I was in for a wad of tests. So many tests. I soon had two IVS going, one in each elbow.
Presently the doc came in and said that I had an acute case of influenza, compounded by severe dehydration. Beth F heroically came to spring me, and saw me to my room, promising me a backup call the following morning.
Another perceptual eddy: I thought, wrongly, I'd wafted quietly and softly to the floor. Maybe even discreetly. Ha Ha. When I stripped out of my influenza clothes I discovered gigantic bruises in weird places--the entire top of one foot is discolored, another baseball-sized bruise on one calf, and so one. I began to suspect that I had catapulted myself whammo-flat with all the grace of a stevedore hauling a sack of spuds.
The following days I slept and slept, forcing a few bites of salad and oatmeal. I have zero stamina, must work on that, but at least I am home, and I guess all that unwanted experience can sink into the subconscious quagmire.
What a Fish Looks like, by Syr Hayati Beker
2025-06-19 14:13mrissa Review copy provided by the publisher.
So there's Red Riding Hood here, but also Antigone, there's the Snow Queen, but it's not snow, there's a kaleidoscope of animal ghosts and human passions, queer theater techs and cleverly named collectives. This book features a lot of fun elements wrapped in with deeply, horrifyingly unfun environmental consequences.
One of my friends likes to say, "it's never too late to have a messy breakup," and that could be one of the thesis statements of this book. Jay and Seb are having an epically messy breakup...also the world is literally ending in environmental collapse and at least one of them will probably leave the planet for another planet whose traits are not well known.
Also it's a mosaic novel whose framing device is a book of fairytales.
Jazz hands.
So there's Red Riding Hood here, but also Antigone, there's the Snow Queen, but it's not snow, there's a kaleidoscope of animal ghosts and human passions, queer theater techs and cleverly named collectives. This book features a lot of fun elements wrapped in with deeply, horrifyingly unfun environmental consequences.
Books read, early June
2025-06-19 14:07mrissaIsa Arsén, The Unbecoming of Margaret Wolf. Look, when a character tells you that their favorite Shakespearean character (as an actress) is Lady Macbeth and then another major character says their favorite play is Titus Andronicus--whose favorite play is Titus Andronicus? I demanded when I first got to that part. And then the book went on and OH NO OH GOD OH NO. Anyway, from the beginning you will get a clear sense that this is a setting that will tear people to shreds (1950s theater world!) and that some of the people in question will assist their milieu in their own destruction. Be forewarned on that. For me the prose voice made all the difference in the world, for you it might not make enough difference to be worth that shape of book if you're really not in a good place for it. This book goes hard, but uh...not any more pleasantly than my first sentence there would lead you to expect.
Andrea Barrett, Dust and Light: On the Art of Fact in Fiction. I was a little disappointed in this, I think because I was expecting more/broader theory. It was in a lot of places a process case study, which is interesting too, and I'm not sorry I read it, I was just expecting something grander, I think.
Agatha Christie, Hickory Dickory Dock and Peril at End House. These sure were mysteries by Agatha Christie.
Justene Hill Edwards, Savings and Trust: The Rise and Betrayal of the Freedman's Bank. Very straightforwardly does what it says on the tin. A thing we should all know happened, in terms of Black Americans and finance, this book gets in and gets out and does what it needs to do.
Kate Elliott, The Witch Roads. Discussed elsewhere.
Margaret Frazer, The Witch's Tale. Kindle. This is one of the short stories, and it was clearly something Frazer needed to say about justice and community, and it got in and said it and got out. For heaven's sake do not start here, this is a series story that's leaning heavily on you already caring about this place and these people and not spending many of its quite few words in introducing them to you.
Max Gladstone, Last Exit. Reread. This book made me cry four times on the reread. I knew it was coming, I knew what was going to happen, I had not forgotten many (on some cellular level: any) of the details, and yet, dammit, Gladstone, ya did it to me again. With my own connivance this time. Anyway gosh this is good, this is doing all sorts of things with power and community and priorities and old friendships and adulthood and, the reason I read it: American road trips. Oh, and weather! I read it for my road trip panel, it also related to my weather panel, frankly I brought it up during a couple of other panels as well. This booook.
Reginald Hill, On Beulah Height. Reread. Back to back reread bangers, although this one only made me cry once. I am not a big crier over books. Such a good series mystery, by which I mean that it works as a mystery but also, and more crucially, as a novel about some people you've already had a chance to know, so you know what their reactions mean even when they're not in your home register. (Or, if you're from Yorkshire, even if they are.)
Jordan Ifueko, The Maid and the Crocodile. Magical and fun and full of textured worldbuilding and clear character motivation, I really liked this.
Sarah Kay, A Little Daylight Left. The sort of deeply gripping volume of poetry that makes me add everything else the poet has written to my reading list.
Nnedi Okorafor, One Way Witch. A prequel, a mother's story, which is not something we see often. Interesting, not long.
Rebecca Roanhorse, Trail of Lightning. Reread. Also reread for my road trip panel, also pertained to my weather panel--are there any road trip novels that's not true for? Is a road trip in part a way to make modern people vulnerable to smaller-scale weather forces? In any case, I liked the ragged edges here, I liked the things she tied up neatly but also the things she refused to.
Sean Stewart, Galveston. Reread. To my relief, this holds up 25 years after I first read it: storms of magic, layers of history, weird alternate worlds overlapping with this one, hurrah.
Greg van Eekhout, Cog. Reread. A charming and delightful sto
Étoile: another ficlet, some recs, music
2025-06-19 18:36regshoeI would like to write something properly long and plotty for Tobias/Gabin, but that'll have to wait until I've thought of a plot and got more of a handle on characterisation. In the meantime:
It’s not just where you lay your head (719 words) by regshoe
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Étoile (TV)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Tobias Bell/Gabin Roux
Characters: Gabin Roux, Tobias Bell
Additional Tags: Fluff, Pillow Talk
Summary:
I've been enjoying reading through the tag, so have some fic recs:
( Some fic recs )
I've also been listening to the soundtrack via the very helpful official Spotify playlist. It's a great variety and lots of fun! Here are some of my favourites of the songs:
( And some music )
It’s not just where you lay your head (719 words) by regshoe
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Étoile (TV)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Tobias Bell/Gabin Roux
Characters: Gabin Roux, Tobias Bell
Additional Tags: Fluff, Pillow Talk
Summary:
Tobias finally finds a satisfactory Parisian pillow.
I've been enjoying reading through the tag, so have some fic recs:
( Some fic recs )I've also been listening to the soundtrack via the very helpful official Spotify playlist. It's a great variety and lots of fun! Here are some of my favourites of the songs:
( And some music )
Book Review: The Witch of Clatteringshaws
2025-06-19 08:08osprey_archerJoan Aiken’s pacing may have bobbled in some of her later books, but it’s full speed ahead in The Witch of Clatteringshaws, which she raced to get done with the literal deadline of her own encroaching demise.
She has a lot of loose ends to wrap up in this book, chief among them the question of who will be the next King of England. Simon is currently saddled with the job, but he doesn’t want it, because all he wants to do is live a quiet life communing with animals and painting, and also he would like to marry Dido who has very definitively stated that she is unwilling to be queen.
It’s not entirely clear to me if she’d like to marry Simon, but she’s a good bro who doesn’t want to see Simon stuck on the throne, so she heads off to the north to chase up the only lead they’ve got on a possible alternative king. Apparently there’s an Aelfric somewhere up in Caledonia with a claim to the throne?
Spoilers: we never find Aelfric. From beginning to end we have no idea who this man is. Like the thought speech, which was so important in the Is books and never appears again, this one of many loose ends Joan has decided she doesn’t have time to bother with. As she finished this book a scant four months before her death, that’s fair enough.
Instead, Dido finds a Dickensian old person’s home (and let’s pause to admire Aiken’s breadth of Dickensian vision: Dickensian orphanages, Dickensian schools, Dickensian mines, apparently Dickensian mills in Midnight Is a Place which we haven’t read yet, and now Dickensian retirement homes). And at this home there is a boy, an orphan foundling who has been raised as a drudge, even though he arrived at the door wrapped in a cloth emblazoned with a golden crown…
( Spoilers )
She has a lot of loose ends to wrap up in this book, chief among them the question of who will be the next King of England. Simon is currently saddled with the job, but he doesn’t want it, because all he wants to do is live a quiet life communing with animals and painting, and also he would like to marry Dido who has very definitively stated that she is unwilling to be queen.
It’s not entirely clear to me if she’d like to marry Simon, but she’s a good bro who doesn’t want to see Simon stuck on the throne, so she heads off to the north to chase up the only lead they’ve got on a possible alternative king. Apparently there’s an Aelfric somewhere up in Caledonia with a claim to the throne?
Spoilers: we never find Aelfric. From beginning to end we have no idea who this man is. Like the thought speech, which was so important in the Is books and never appears again, this one of many loose ends Joan has decided she doesn’t have time to bother with. As she finished this book a scant four months before her death, that’s fair enough.
Instead, Dido finds a Dickensian old person’s home (and let’s pause to admire Aiken’s breadth of Dickensian vision: Dickensian orphanages, Dickensian schools, Dickensian mines, apparently Dickensian mills in Midnight Is a Place which we haven’t read yet, and now Dickensian retirement homes). And at this home there is a boy, an orphan foundling who has been raised as a drudge, even though he arrived at the door wrapped in a cloth emblazoned with a golden crown…
( Spoilers )
