I guess reviewing books in twos is how I'll do this. I've been reading other books (borrowing Wild Cards books from my coworker, up to #4 currently) but these two are the ones I'm taking time to note.
First, from
alexx_kay's book potlatch, Kage Baker's The Anvil of the World. Disliked this quite greatly. This book was a bad LARP - no, it was three bad LARPs, a trilogy set in the same world with the same characters, but no easy transition between each third of the book. Why a bad LARP? This character is secretly a _____. That character is secretly this other character's ______. This character spends most of the books badly characterized, and then his backstory is written off as, "Oh, he's being controlled by a ____!" Those characters have a romance plot for no reason. This was less a book and more a set of complex plots and interactions that the author really wanted to put together, even though she failed at fleshing out the rest of it to make it, oh I don't know, make any sense. This was where you get the character sheet for your LARP character and it says, "You are very attracted to ____ and are very skilled at _____," but not given any background as to why, and you vaguely play out those roles but your heart really isn't in it. Nor was my heart in finishing this book, but I did it anyway out of a drive towards completionism, and now I can safely give it away and never read it again.
Secondly, and also from the potlatch although I think it was technically in
londo's book pile - I just pulled whatever was on the top of the pile of books in the living rooom - Joe Haldeman's The Forever War. This book was written oddly. It alternated between battle stories and the author's imaginings of how Earth society would evolve over the next 1,000-plus years as the main character hopped through the galaxy with the Army, relativity keeping him young while time passed on Earth. I enjoyed some of those various social imaginings; however, the book is aged just slightly in some of the writings around gender and sex roles. The book is supposedly very autobiographical regarding the author's experience in Vietnam, and I wonder to myself just how autobiographical, especially when little details are added that don't seem to add much to the plot but color the soldier's world a bit better. This one I liked, not with a gushing enthusiasm, but I immediately handed it to londo to add to his pile. Might read again, and will remember fondly.
First, from
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Secondly, and also from the potlatch although I think it was technically in
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