It’s a title. Not mine, though; not today. Wait until school starts. Or until I get home (although there, it’s Darth Vader Mom). Book = by Michelle Knudsen, and it started off as lots of fun, and it’s still fun, but I haven’t finished it yet, whereas I have finished a number of other things.
DO read: The Fold, by Peter Clines. DO read Alexander McCall Smith’s new Emma, because it’s utterly delightful, and I was very sad when it ended.
I am not sure what to say about The Twelfth Enchantment by David Liss. It was so many things. Revenants! Magic! Proper young ladies! Evil guardians! Nefarious clergy! Lord Byron! Rosicrucians! Mary Crawford! … yes, that one, if you are an Austen person. That Mary. But it did have the feel of an improv skit, where the audience tosses out a bunch of unrelated words (see: above) and the performers do their level best to sew them together to create something that works. There is a whiff of James Herbert’s Ash about Twelfth Enchantment, in that I wonder if the project was entered into in an entirely serious fashion.
The Watchmaker of Filigree Street by Natasha Pulley lacks this element. It’s utterly earnest. I’m liking it. But it requires a little more concentration than Mary Louise Kelly’s The Bullet, which I really, really wanted to like. Not requiring concentration but requiring lots of future effort: What Makes This Book Great by Jo Walton, which is creating an extra-long reading list just by existing. I was surprised to have read some of the books she mentioned (aside from Tam Lin) like China Mountain Zhang and Black Wine. Moving on.